At Home, Clinton's Not Quite a Local

Hillary and Bill Clinton bought this 11-room, $1.7 million house in Chappaqua, N.Y., shortly before she declared her intention to run for the Senate in 1999. (By Kathy Willens -- Associated Press)

"You pretend like you're waiting for a friend," Gersh-Nesic said. "Then every once in a while, somebody comes over and asks about Obama."

"Sounds warm, too," Cohen said. "That's one thing about what we're doing. You don't see any Clinton supporters out campaigning, going door to door in the cold. No one really cares that much. They think this state's wrapped up for her."

Running against a little-known Republican in her 2006 reelection campaign, Clinton won 67 percent of the vote -- 77 percent around Chappaqua -- and her staff has built an unrivaled infrastructure in the state. Volunteers make calls from 35 offices, and 1,700 designated female "ambassadors" host debate parties and run e-mail lists.

"We are gratified by the outpouring of support for Senator Clinton across New York," said Blake Zeff, a Clinton spokesman, "but we're taking nothing for granted and working hard for every vote."

There is work left to do in Clinton's home town, where some residents have held steadfast to their resentment since the Clintons paid $1.7 million for an 11-room house on a dead-end road nearly 8 1/2 years ago. At the very least, the couple's Secret Service caravan has interrupted the rhythms of a place already straddling a delicate balance: near enough to Manhattan but still, technically, a "hamlet" guarded by rolling hills and thick woods, with Quaker roots and an outdoor ice rink in front of the church downtown.

Some locals have criticized the Clintons, saying they selected Chappaqua not for its charms but for its political convenience in the heart of a wealthy county loaded with potential donors.

Bill Clinton eventually won over many of the couple's neighbors during his long, doctor-mandated walks through town after a 2004 heart surgery. He stopped in local restaurants and ordered takeout, or he idled on the two-block main drag, in front of the mom-and-pop pizza parlor or the spinning pole at the barber shop, and shook hands. He became one of them.

"Bill has been very much in evidence here," said Gray Williams, the town historian. "Everybody can tell you a story about Bill."

Those who have met Hillary Clinton also share fond memories: the afternoon in 2000 when she conducted six children in an impromptu backyard kazoo concert; the emotional speech she delivered in 2006 at the funeral for Maureen Tsuchiya, a beloved local activist for disabled rights. Residents cheer Clinton's appearance each year at the Memorial Day parade, and she often stays in town to swear in the local officials. But more often than not, she's working in Washington or campaigning elsewhere.

Even signs bearing her name sometimes disappear. Last week, on the same day that town officials gave permission for a small Obama rally in early February, someone removed a handful of "Clinton for President" signs posted near the center of town. Such signs are frowned upon on public property, an official explained, because Chappaqua refuses to designate a favorite.