Trump shadow hangs over race in one of WA’s most purple districts

FOX ISLAND – When Dan White voted in August’s primary election, he was sure most of his neighbors in Pierce and Kitsap counties would join him in supporting Republican state Senate candidate Michelle Caldier.

Caldier is a former dentist who currently serves in the state House, representing a deep purple district where taxes and gas prices are major concerns. She’s been elected six times before in the district, which includes a unique mix of urban, suburban and exurban communities, stretching from Bremerton and Port Orchard down to Gig Harbor and the Key Peninsula.

But when the dust settled this summer, Caldier narrowly trailed lesser-known Democrat Deb Krishnadasan, giving Krishnadasan a boost heading into their Nov. 4 special election for the state Senate seat that new U.S. Rep. Emily Randall previously occupied and that Krishnadasan currently holds as an appointee. The primary results surprised White, a longtime voter in the district who lives on Fox Island, and he thinks there was an X-factor.

Basically, it’s a repudiation of Trump,” he said.

Democrats aren’t surprised. They say Krishnadasan had a strong primary because of her stances on local issues, not only because of anger with Republicans over actions taken by President Donald Trump. They argue state Democrats’ climate, health care and education agendas are widely popular.

Like many parts of Western Washington, including Seattle’s suburbs, the 26th Legislative District has been trending bluer for a while.

Still, it’s undeniable that reactions to national events – like Trump’s Medicaid cuts, tariffs, immigrant crackdowns and military deployments to U.S. cities – are playing a role in one of the state’s last real swing districts.

Although the 26th District is older and whiter than the country as a whole, “It’s such an interesting snapshot,” including pricey waterfront neighborhoods, mobile home parks, rural pockets and a naval shipyard, said Randall, a Democrat whose congressional election last year triggered this year’s state Senate race.

That’s why the outcome of the showdown between Caldier and Krishnadasan may indicate more broadly how American voters are responding in this unique moment, exactly 12 months after Trump’s second election.

Voters like Alice MacArthur, who didn’t pay much attention to politics until recently, when threats and maneuvers by Trump’s GOP alarmed her so much she joined and spoke at a ‘No Kings’ protest in June in Bremerton.

“I don’t want my daughters’ rights to be wiped away,” said MacArthur, 46, describing her fears. “What’s happening today feels like backtracking.”

Reagan Republican

White, from Fox Island, a semi-retired landlord, calls Trump a “poor messenger” for conservatism and calls himself a Ronald Reagan Republican.

He believes the 26th District’s state Senate contest should focus on tax increases advanced by Washington’s Democratic-dominated Legislature and on hyperlocal issues, like a replacement bridge to Fox Island, an affluent suburban community across the water from Gig Harbor and Tacoma.

White disagrees with Krishnadasan, a former school board member, that school district bonds should be easier to pass. After her appointment to Randall’s vacant seat last winter, she proposed lowering the bond voting threshold from 60% to 55%, arguing it could help schools across Washington.

Such changes are driving some wealthy people to red states, said White, 67.

“We have a wonderful state, but it’s getting screwed up” by high taxes, White said during an interview at Fox Island’s only brewpub, where he sometimes meets friends from the Gig Harbor Republican Club. “I don’t think anybody should be paying attention to national politics to make local decisions.”

That’s basically how Caldier sees things, she said in a phone interview, arguing 26th District voters should hold budget-botching Democrats in Olympia accountable for their cost-of-living problems. She wrote to Trump earlier this year expressing concern about Medicaid cuts, she said.

“Unfortunately, I think a lot of voters don’t know the difference between state politics and federal politics,” Caldier said, suggesting her opponent is leading only because Democratic voters are so energized by national issues.

“Trump people”

Democrats aren’t the only voters energized by Trump, however. Just ask Mike and Leanne Cornell, a Key Peninsula couple. They’ll be voting Republican in the November election partly because they support the U.S. president, saying they agree with him on things like foreign policy and border control.

“For category-wise, we’re absolutely Trump people,” said Mike, 60, a Teamsters union truck driver who commutes to work at the Port of Tacoma.

That wasn’t always the case for the Cornells, who don’t come from money and aligned more with Democrats at one point in their lives. Mike started drifting right around 2016, he said, recalling he didn’t like how Democrats were disparaging Trump supporters as “uneducated white males.”

He and Leanne, 52, built a house with a chicken coop and gun range on a remote property with a view of Puget Sound. They turned from mainstream new sources they deemed biased to other options, like YouTube shows.

“Basically, I got red pilled,” said Mike, who now spends a lot of his nonwork time engaging with online political content.

The Cornells like Trump’s “art of the deal” swagger and liked Charlie Kirk, the right-wing activist killed last month. Locally, they side with the GOP on topics like law enforcement and taxes. But what animates them as much or more is their identity as Trump backers in a blue state.

The couple showed up at a “No Kings” demonstration this summer to counterprotest, and Leanne sometimes wears a MAGA shirt when running errands to “normalize” the slogan so many of her neighbors reject.

“I do feel like we are marginalized,” she said.

Longtime Democrat

Don Swensen vehemently disagrees with that perspective. Like the Cornells, Swensen lives on the Key Peninsula and, like them, he worries about property tax increases. But the 72-year-old retiree says Trump is to blame for the political “divisiveness” ripping U.S. communities apart.

“They talk about how the Democrats hate everybody and want to tear the place to the ground. I don’t see it that way,” he said at a Bremerton bar before playing bass guitar in a soul and blues band. “I’m not out here trying to tear anything down. I’m trying to pay my bills and live my life.”

Swensen started paying attention to elections long ago; he opposed the Vietnam War and grew concerned as “Christian conservatism started entering our politics a lot more.” But current conditions are “the worst I’ve ever seen,” said the former tech worker and wine bar owner, likening the demonization of immigrants and LBGTQ+ people to the mood of 1930s Nazi Germany.

“I think the Democrats need to fight a little harder,” he said.

Krishnadasan can count on Swensen’s vote, of course. It’s the less informed, less partisan voters whom she’s trying to convert and turn out when she knocks on doors and shakes hands at community events.

The Democrat picks their brains about Washington’s beleaguered ferry system, federal government layoffs and affordable housing, she said in a phone interview. Krishnadasan voted against the Legislature’s transportation budget this year because the package included a gas tax hike, she said, arguing the purple 26th District deserves a moderate voice like hers.

“I’m focused on the real problems people are facing,” Krishnadasan said. “Putting food on the table and finding child care. Access to health care.”

“No Kings” speaker

But there’s no escaping national context in the 26th District race. Example: Ahead of the primary, a pro-Democrat political action committee sent a mailer warning voters: “You can’t trust radical, out-of-touch Michelle Caldier or any Washington Republican to stand up to Donald Trump.”

It’s the sort of message that resonates with voters like MacArthur, from Bremerton, who until recently worked as an Amazon and DoorDash delivery driver and has at times relied on social safety net programs to get by.

Democrats have gained ground in special elections around the U.S. this year, said Mark Alan Smith, a politics professor at UW.

“For candidates in a state legislative race, it’s hard to cut through the national noise,” Smith said. “That party label is going to count for a lot.”

MacArthur didn’t vote at all for a long time and never considered herself a Democrat. She was more focused on raising her kids than on following the news and was turned off by elected leaders she didn’t think she could trust.

Trump’s second election changed all that. Now MacArthur, who lives near the sprawling Puget Sound Naval Shipyard, is disturbed by the president’s power grabs and by Republican cuts to programs like food stamps.

“You’re taking food away from the mouths of children,” said MacArthur, who’s voting for Krishnadasan in November to strike a blow against Republicans. “(Trump) wants to be king and rule the world. He’s taking us to the ‘Hunger Games.’”

Money is gushing into the 26th District from all directions, including from a business-backed PAC that’s spending big to link Krishnadasan with state taxes. Caldier predicts their election will come down to voter anger, she said, betting her district is more upset with the Legislature than with Trump’s GOP.

That didn’t seem very likely this summer, when throngs of “No Kings” protesters packed Bremerton’s Manette Bridge. MacArthur joined the crowd at the last minute, then surprised herself by speaking.

Getting political made her “feel exhilarated, so she returned to the bridge for Saturday’s “No Kings” rally. She doesn’t plan to stop.