A visitor can get at least a sense of Merrimac’s political idiosyncrasies even before arriving in the village, home to Wisconsin’s only free ferry.
At the turn from I-94 onto Highway 78, on the very day of the mid-August primary election, one yard sign urged voters to reject two constitutional amendments that were on the ballot that day. That was the position of liberals. The next, in a sentiment typically shared by conservatives, said: “Choose life.”
Then came the hand-painted sign: “Duck and Chicken Eggs.”
Tell us who you’d pick to be a Betty this year!
What you can’t see upon entering Merrimac, a hamlet of 527 people on Lake Wisconsin, about halfway between Madison and Wisconsin Dells, is that it is a bellwether for big elections.
When it comes to races for president and for governor, not only has Merrimac supported both Democrats and Republicans, but it’s a predictor of how Wisconsin, known as much for being a swing state as for its cheese, will vote.
According to John D. Johnson, a demographics and political trends researcher at Marquette Law School, Merrimac and the town of Harmony in Rock County are the only Wisconsin communities to vote for the state winner of every election for president and governor since 2000.
That means Merrimac voted for the winner of all seven elections for governor since 2000: Four times for Democrats – Jim Doyle in 2002 and 2006; Tony Evers in 2018 and 2022; and three times for Republican Scott Walker, who won regular elections in 2010 and 2014, and a recall in 2012.
Merrimac also voted for the presidential candidate who won Wisconsin in every race – though not necessarily for the candidate who won the presidency. Like Wisconsin, since 2000, Merrimac voted for one Republican – Donald Trump in 2016; and for four Democrats – Al Gore in 2000, John Kerry in 2004, Barack Obama in 2008 and 2012, and Joe Biden in 2020.
In Sauk County, where Merrimac is located, more densely populated areas have become more blue and rural areas more red – or as Johnson puts it, “the very liberal and very conservative currents within Wisconsin are pretty equally represented. That makes it a great microcosm of the state as a whole, because it’s not like Wisconsin is moderate for being purple.”
MERRIMAC GOT ITS NAME, according to the village, from Mrs. J.G. Train, a settler who thought it reminded her of Merrimack (yes, with a K) County, New Hampshire.
In Merrimac (with a C), village president and lifelong resident Andrew Gallus is part of a family that owns Ferrylanding Marine. It sells Mercury outboard motors next to the Merrimac Ferry, which can carry 15 cars on its half-mile route across Lake Wisconsin. a reservoir of the Wisconsin River. There’s an ice cream stand on each side of the route. “We’re a pretty quiet lake town,” says the plain-spoken Gallus, 39. “A bunch of good people.”
Gallus says Trump won Merrimac in 2016 because people didn’t like Hillary Clinton, but he doesn’t know why Trump lost to Biden in 2020, or why Merrimac is “drifting toward the Democrats” the past several elections. He also doesn’t know whether that trend will continue. “I know there is a strong conservative population here. I have a lot of friends that are Republican. It’s hard telling. I sure would like to think I know the way the [2024] election is going to go, but I don’t know.”
Gallus, who had already known about Merrimac’s bellwether status when asked by a reporter, says he thinks November is up for grabs, particularly since Biden dropped out of the race and Vice President Kamala Harris is running in his place.
“There’s a lot of people on the fence. I don’t think anybody’s partial to one party these days,” Gallus says. “That candidate’s got to do something to appeal to the voter, and a lot of times it’s the pocketbook.”
IN THE VILLAGE, there were several signs saying “Be Kind.” They promote a movement to raise awareness of bullying and mental health following the 2022 suicide death of Sawyer Martin, a 16-year-old student of Sauk Prairie High School, which Merrimac teens attend.
Some of the signs are near Ferry X-ing Bar and Grill on Main Street, which was one of eight finalists in the 2024 Wisconsin Beef Council’s Wisconsin’s Best Burger Contest. The bar is owned by Jodie Pearson. Sawyer was her cousin’s son. “We can come together, that’s what Merrimac’s about,” says Pearson, 56, who has worked at the bar for 30 years, including 11 as owner.
Pearson says Merrimac transplants build “retirement mansions” on the lake, but there are also first homes that are more affordable for young families. The mix of residents remains down to earth and welcoming, she says. “If somebody came at you,” she says to a stranger, “I would have your back. That’s Merrimac.”
Disagreements can be sharp, but not divisive. In the bar, “people argue all the time, especially politically, they have totally different views and they fight each other about it,” Pearson says. “And then the next day, they’re hugging on each other.”
Pearson speculates that Merrimac picks winners because residents care more about a candidate’s views than party affiliation. “It’s what the candidate represents, what they’re hoping to achieve,” she says.
Pearson has a relative who is “hard-core conservative” (but lately has been considering Democratic candidates), and another relative who is gay and more liberal. She herself remains undecided about November. “I don’t know that I so much like Kamala,” she says, but she won’t vote for Trump because of his felony convictions for falsifying business records. “He’s a criminal. Criminals should not be our country’s leaders.
“I like to consider myself conservative, but I’m not so conservative that I don’t have an open mind.”
ERICK HUNTER, 24, pastor of the 40-member Merrimac United Methodist Church, spent part of his childhood in Wisconsin but has lived in Merrimac for only a year. A 1929 Model A he’s restoring is parked in the garage of his parsonage.
Hunter finds Merrimac a “pretty normal small town that is in the process of transitioning from the traditional farmer hub with the general store into a retirement, lakeside community.” The groups generally get along because they’re seeking a rural lifestyle.
“There are definitely a lot of partisans in town like there are everywhere,” he says. ”But there are also definitely some people who are very on the fence. They do not identify with the party line and they vote more on what feels right as a response to the last president.”
Hunter cites Trump’s support in places such as Merrimac as a response to Obama, whom he said didn’t do much to help rural communities. At the same time, people in Merrimac “are down to earth, very old-school folks,” Hunter says. “Even those who voted for Trump, don’t tend to think very highly of Trump,” which led to more votes for Biden in 2020.
It’s easier to get along in a predominantly white, middle-class community amid election differences than it is in other parts of the country, Hunter says.
“The outcome of this election is not existential for almost anyone in this community. It does not threaten their rights. It does not threaten their lifestyles. It does not threaten whether or not they can stay in this country,” he says.
“So I think people in Merrimac can get along because they have the luxury to do so. I think there are communities of people around the country for whom either the election is existentially terrifying or they feel like it is an existential threat. And for people in that circumstance, you cannot get along with the opposite side, because from your perspective, the opposite side is trying to kill you or disenfranchise you or ship you out of the country.”
Hunter can only guess which way Merrimac will vote in November. He saw residents leaning toward Trump, believing Biden wasn’t capable of serving another term, but as of mid-August, “most people are trying to figure out” who Harris is. “I have no idea which way things are going to go in the race. I think most of the people in Merrimac are probably in the same boat.”
