Battle for the White House is a big deal in Little Paisley

STANDING behind the counter in Stewart's Scottish Market, Mary Crawford surveys mounds of Scotch pies, haggis, lorne sausage, bacon, Scotch eggs, Forfar bridies, potted head and white pudding. Despite emigrating from Port Glasgow with her parents as a young girl half a century ago, life in Kearny has done nothing to dull her broad Scots accent.

But then this New Jersey town, less than an hour's drive from downtown Manhattan, could have been transplanted from the west coast of Scotland. In 'Little Paisley', everyone from the lollipop lady and the butcher to the policeman and the librarian has a Scottish accent, and the main street, Kearny Avenue, is full of people who have made a business out of catering to the needs of their homesick countrymen.

"I'm married to a Scot and all my friends are Scottish," says Crawford. "Working in this shop is great, it's like a social centre; people pop in for a blether so you always know the latest news from home."

This morning the shop is abuzz with talk of the upcoming US presidential election. The economy, healthcare, foreign policy and abortion are the issues on people's minds in Kearny. In common with many other traditionally Democratic neighbourhoods, the race of the party's candidate may be an issue.

Crawford says: "I'm betwixt and between this year. I watched the debate and I'm no wiser for it. I do and I don't like Obama. McCain I wouldn't trust, he's dangerous. He says he's a maverick, but what evidence have we that he's any different from Bush? And he's going to tax you on your health insurance."

"Abortion is an important issue," pipes up one customer. "It's no business of the politicians. It's between a woman and her man, and God, if they are religious. Politicians, especially male politicians, should butt out."

Through the back, proprietor Alastair Stewart is putting the finishing touch to this morning's batch of haggis – pouring in the blood – made according to his grandfather, Albert's recipe. Today, like everyday, the haggis will fly off the shelves.

Albert Stewart and his wife Gracie came to America from Paisley on honeymoon in 1929 and never went home. They opened a butcher's shop on Kearny Avenue two years later and business boomed as Scots flocked for a taste of home.

"I like the idea of carrying on a family tradition. No one knows how to make this stuff anymore, it's a dying art," says Stewart, who learned the trade from his father and grandfather, but has no children of his own to pass the family recipes on to.

Stewart is a man of few words, but once he gets started on the election, there's no stopping him. "Palin's the best thing about it," he says. "I like her because she is a woman and she's feisty. Men have run this country forever and look where it's got us.

"Obama is a communist and McCain is a neo-con globalist. I'm going to do a write-in vote (where the voter can write the name of whoever they want to vote for on the ballot paper]. I like (congressman] Ron Paul, I believe in what he stands for."

In a country where immigrant Scots traditionally assimilate and disappear, Kearny has stubbornly held on to its identity. The story of the Scots here began in 1865, when Paisley's Clark Thread Company opened a mill in the New Jersey town. Kirkcaldy linoleum company Michael Nairn & Co followed in 1875, ensuring a steady flow of Scottish migrants. The Federal Ship Building Company and Ford Motor Company were also attracted by Kearny's location next to the Hackensack and Passaic rivers, and both made direct appeals to skilled Scottish workers. Kearny's close proximity to Ellis Island, and later to Newark airport and JFK in New York, also meant that new arrivals from Scotland would hear about 'Little Paisley' and make it their first stop.

When trams ran through the town, the conductor would call out "Paisley cross" at the intersection of Kearny and Bergen Avenues, where the majority of Scots lived, and which had become an informal meeting place for Scots.

Just along the street, Paisley-born Betty Regan, who came to Kearny aged two with her parents 60 years ago, is directing pedestrians across the road. "I don't like either candidate but I'm going to vote for Obama. I can't stand Palin and I'd worry that if I voted for McCain something would happen to him and she'd become president."

Mary Lang appears at the crossing and joins in the political discussion. Her father came to Kearny from Glasgow to work as a bus mechanic, settled and had a family.

She says: "I'm going to put my own name down. I don't know either of them, Obama or McCain."

At Wallace Glen in the park beside the river, a cairn has been erected in recognition of the contribution Scots have made to Kearny and America as a whole. When they came, the Scots brought football with them and the Scots-American Club, at the intersection between Patterson Street and Highland Avenue, is the place to watch football games from 'home'.

Like many Scots who came to America to seek work, when Anna Dixon left Bellshill 47 years ago and took up a job here as a domestic servant, she intended to stay for a year. But she met and married a fellow Scot and they ended up staying and having children. Today, she works in the local library. She says: "I am very undecided this year. I feel Obama is too young. I like McCain, but I've never voted Republican before."

While many of the children of Scots immigrants have, like their parents, become economic migrants, leaving New Jersey to take jobs in New York, Florida and California, those that have stayed have kept their heritage alive, learning to play the bagpipes, taking Highland dance classes and, in some cases, attending the local Presbyterian Church. The Kearny Scots are a tight-knit community and often their children, though born and raised here, end up marrying one another. Dixon's daughter is married to a policeman whose parents came from Dundee.

The shelves in the Pipers Cove gift shop are filled with Edinburgh crystal, tartan ties and tea towels, kilted Scottie dogs, tablet and pictorial plates showing scenes of Scotland. Customers come from neighbouring states to stock up, and those living further afield can get their fix by mail order.

A young Scot and his bride-to-be have driven from New York to collect kilts and other essentials for their forthcoming wedding. "We came to get the kilts and then saw the Irn-Bru. It's a must-have for the toasts," says the groom-to-be.

Glaswegian Susan McKeown works in the adjoining kilt hire shop. She was lured here in 1972 by her sister and friends, who promised that the streets were paved with gold. "I hated it when I first arrived, but my husband and our three children loved it, so we stayed," says McKeown, who is busy with orders for kilts to be worn at weddings, graduations, communions, corporate events and even Bar Mitzvahs.

Asked about the election, McKeown says: "Obama is young. I like his ideas. He's a welcome change from the usual politicians, but I don't know if I trust him. I might not vote."

Visiting the Argyle Restaurant next door is like stepping back in time. Customers sit tucking into fish and chips and Irn-Bru in a wood-panelled room lined with sepia photographs of Scotland, pictures of the Edinburgh Military Tattoo, a portrait of Robert Burns and a sporran which once belonged to Harry Lauder.

On Friday nights, the queue for a table stretches all the way round the block, with Scots, Americans, Irish, Portuguese and Peruvian immigrants all coming to enjoy fish and chips with brown sauce and malt vinegar.

Owner John Nisbett, who also runs the local pipe band and bagpipe shop, emigrated from Musselburgh 46 years ago. Despite being born and raised here, his son is a patriotic Scot who plays the bagpipes and often wears a kilt.

"I can't believe that in a country of 300 million we ended up with these two running for president," says Nisbett. "The stakes are really high this year and neither of them is experienced enough to get us back on track. I don't know how we ended up here."