As votes came in, Goodman, Giunchigliani went about their day

By Delen Goldberg, Joe Schoenmann

Wednesday, June 8, 2011 | 2 a.m.

Sun reporters Joe Schoenmann and Delen Goldberg spent Election Day following mayoral candidates Chris Giunchigliani and Carolyn Goodman and posting details on their movements to Twitter. This story is based on those tweets and other reporting.

Instead of standing outside polling places shaking hands or knocking on doors to get every possible supporter to the polls, Carolyn Goodman spent most of Election Day popping in and out of her campaign headquarters, running errands — to the bank and dry cleaners — and writing thank-you notes to donors.

It wasn’t overconfidence, even though polls showed her with a double-digit lead over her opponent in the race for Las Vegas mayor. It was more about burning off nervous energy and knowing that her opponent, Clark County Commissioner Chris Giunchigliani, is “the best campaigner in Nevada.”

“We just hope the early vote comes in very strong,” Goodman told a volunteer. “Then we’ll feel better.”

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The first upset of the day occurred just as the polls opened at 7 a.m. Goodman, with her husband, Mayor Oscar Goodman, arrived at the Public Administration Building in downtown Las Vegas, to cast their votes. The mayor has traditionally been the first vote at the polling place. But a woman had beaten the Goodmans. After a bit of pleading, the woman allowed the Goodmans to have her spot.

When it came time to push the button next to her name, Carolyn Goodman saw Giunchigliani’s name pop up. A worried look crossed her face and she asked for help. On the second attempt, her name came up.

“I think it’s the fingernails,” she said later, but noted that she had heard of similar problems during early voting. The mayor asked Bradley Mayer, his wife’s campaign manager, to notify elections officials of the problem.

About a half-hour later, Giunchigliani and her campaign manager and husband, Gary Gray, arrived at Griffith United Methodist Church, near Oakey Boulevard and Eastern Avenue, to cast their ballots.

Afterward, Giunchigliani was surrounded by photographers and TV news crews.

“I’ve had a lot of fun” on the campaign trail, she told them, displaying tireless energy she has drawn on to win every race she has ever run in more than 20 years in state and local politics.

But Giunchigliani wasn’t headed out to chase votes. She was off to the County Government Center, where the County Commission had a full agenda. She wouldn’t shirk her duties as a commissioner, she said.

About the time the commission meeting was getting under way, Goodman was arriving at her campaign headquarters near the Meadows mall. She grabbed a bagel before delivering a short pep talk to the dozen volunteers who were heading out to urge voters to get to the polls.

“Tonight, hopefully everything will be glorious,” she said. “It’s our city, and it will continue to be our city.”

At the commission meeting, Giunchigliani displayed what her supporters say is her greatest strength: a firm grasp of the issues. She fired off questions on myriad issues before the commission — purchasing agreements, a contract to inspect a sewer pipeline, a presentation by Touro University administrators who might become medical school partners with University Medical Center.

During a break, Commissioner Steve Sisolak asked Giunchigliani how she was doing. But he wasn’t inquiring about election nerves. Rather the night before a Chihuahua-mix had attacked Giunchigliani as she was going door to door, talking to voters. She lifted her knee to reveal a scab and pulled up a sleeve to show another on her elbow.

When the dog attacked, she had fled and fallen, got up and slammed into a gate, “which thankfully clicked shut” behind her, trapping the dog, she said. She laughed and said she was just glad a reporter wasn’t around to see it.

Before the meeting resumed admitted that her purchase of TV time for a recent commercial meant she felt her campaign polling, which showed her down just two points, was closer to the truth than polls that showed her a huge underdog.

Midmorning, Goodman began calling undecided voters in Sun City, a neighborhood where one in three residents vote.

The first person Goodman reached said he had voted for her; she thanked him.

The second, a 78-year-old woman, had questions. She wondered about Goodman’s experience.

Goodman cited her success running the Meadows School and added that she was elected to office while a university student.

The woman wasn’t impressed.

Goodman tried a new approach, invoking her husband’s record. “To me, if you have Abe Lincoln and he’s so wonderful, why not have one of his sons carry on?” Goodman said.

After several minutes of back and forth, the woman admitted she and her husband didn’t plan to vote. “She said they’re not voting because they don’t like my opponent and I’m inexperienced,” Goodman told her staff.

She blamed Giunchigliani’s campaign ads for creating the impression that she was only running on her husband’s record and isn’t versed on the issues.

The animosity surfaced at other times during the day. Goodman complained to a volunteer that her campaign signs were being vandalized and speculated that Giunchigliani’s campaign was behind it.

“So many of our signs have been obliterated,” she said. “Not one of hers. She just encourages hatred.”

Goodman left her headquarters about 11 a.m. to run errands for several hours. First a stop at the bank, then to the dry cleaners. She then headed home for about an hour to write thank-you notes to donors.

“I’ve written personally to every contributor,” she said. “I’m up to May 7.”

Around the time Goodman returned to her campaign headquarters, Giunchigliani was into the fourth hour of the commission meeting. People were nodding off as a debate over North Las Vegas’ sewer woes wound on. About 4 p.m., the meeting ended and Giunchigliani headed to downtown neighborhoods, her home turf, to go door to door urging people to vote.

“You’re wilting already?” she asked a reporter, who complained about the heat. “I’m ready to go!”

Giunchigliani spent more than two hours in the neighborhoods. At least a dozen people who hadn’t voted committed to do so before 7 p.m. A half dozen stopped their cars to say they were on the way.

A folklorico ballet dancer said she voted for her. Giunchigliani danced in the street: ”She can dance at City Hall when I’m mayor!”

Giunchigliani sarcastically referred to the Goodman family as “a dynasty.”

At 7 p.m., the dynasty arrived at Goodman headquarters to await the election results. More than 100 people mingled in the courtyard as a jazz band played and chefs cooked tacos. A few people clapped for the Goodmans, but the applause wasn’t loud enough for the mayor’s tastes.

“It’s Las Vegas, folks. Wake up, be lively,” he ordered. The applause grew louder.

The first results came in at 7:28 p.m., showing Goodman with an insurmountable lead of almost 7,000 votes.

The room erupted.

Giunchigliani didn’t arrive at her headquarters until after 8 p.m. She was greeted by supporters, including college students.

“Everybody’s got to be feeling good because this was a tremendous effort,” Gray told the students, with the thump of club music nearly drowning out his words. “You don’t win them all.”

“Don’t count me out yet, dude,” Giunchigliani interjected. “I walked until one minute to 7.”

A few minutes later, with Goodman’s lead increasing as the vote results rolled in, Giunchigliani sounded defeated: “I will still be a county commissioner. No matter what, I’m not going away. I still have plans and programs, and I look forward to working with (Carolyn Goodman) on those.”

Meanwhile, at Goodman headquarters as Carolyn Goodman worked the room, greeting guests, her husband mused about his future after 12 years as mayor.

“It’s great to play second fiddle,” he said. “It’s going to be the best life. I’ll have a wife who is happy. The entire city will be happy.”