They speculate about whether Mayor Anthony D. Galluccio will garner a record tally of number one votes—Braude figures he’ll win “about a million”—and about how much turnout will drop off this year.

“[Turnout’s] been going down and now everybody says September 11 is a big distraction, so I’d be surprised if it didn’t go down,” Turkel says.

Candidates and their supporters alike compare notes and speculate as if they were standing over a common water cooler. It’s going to be a long, cold day for these political devotees, who are used to bonding over campaigns and elections. Some have come fully prepared, including Sara Mae Berman, a longtime and visible figure in Cambridge politics who is holding a sign for Pitkin.

“You have to know how to dress for this kind of thing,” Berman says. “I’ve got gloves and a hat. I’ve even got long johns under my pants.”

Pitkin stops to talk with friends as they come to vote, but he only says a brief “hello” to most of the strangers who walk by. His style on the street is understated to say the least.

Then a woman comes down the street, her arms spread wide.

“You get my number one vote,” she hollers.

It’s Pitkin’s wife Helina. The couple hugs and kisses. She can only stay a few minutes, then she is off to vote and to work before the party at night.

After a few more minutes, Pitkin gets ready to head to his next stop, Youville Hospital. But because there are so few voters, Pitkin spends his time talking to people holding candidates’ signs.

As he’s making rounds among the sign-bearers, Pitkin meets Kevin Burke ’66, who’s carrying for incumbent Councillor Henrietta Davis. Though he has known Davis as a friend for 30 years and supports her politically, Burke knows Davis is secure in her seat—and says he’s looking for another new councillor to help with his top preference.

Burke and Pitkin talk about how the City Council functions and what Pitkin would bring to the body. Later, Burke says he was impressed by Pitkin’s straightforward style, even though, as a North Cambridge resident, he did not find many issues in common.

“I didn’t really match up with him in his immediate concerns,” Burke says. “He wanted to talk about the Broadway Market. I really don’t know about that.”

It’s 9 o’clock and Pitkin’s back in the Saab, heading for the Agassiz School. Here he meets up with School Committee member Susana M. Segat, who plans to spend the entire day in front of the school. So far turnout “feels low,” she says.

Around the corner rolls a pickup truck that looks like it just came in from the Iowa State Fair in the 1920s. On the red cab doors are yellow Turkel posters—it’s her husband, who has come to deliver Carberry’s coffee and croissants to Segat and to a volunteer with a Turkel sign.

The two School Committee members both have the endorsement of the Cambridge Civic Association (CCA), the activist establishment of local politics. In front of the Agassiz, the CCA crowd is hanging out together; at one corner of the school all the signs advertise their candidates. Down the street, two young men in blue jeans and work boots look lonely holding signs for incumbent Councillor Kenneth E. Reeves ’72, who dropped out of the CCA in 1996. They’re members of Carpenters Local 40. Reeves supports their union, the two men say, and the union supports Reeves.