For workers at the General Motors truck plant in Flint, Michigan, the nearby Wooden Keg pub is like a shelter from the economic storm ripping across the US.

Craggy men in baseball caps and well-worn T-shirts nurse bottles of Budweiser at the bar, peering up at a muted TV showing live coverage of OJ Simpson’s armed robbery trial in Las Vegas.

A one-line update on the latest Wall Street turmoil scrolls across the news ticker at the foot of the screen, but the financial crisis otherwise appears to be attracting little attention.

Lew Rough, a 50-year-old industrial equipment contractor, says the local economy was already so bad, people were immune to further shocks. Money Magazine named Flint the worst place to live in the US 20 years ago, and Mr Rough says it has only got worse since. “We’re not losing sleep over a few people losing their jobs on Wall Street.”

Mr Rough’s reaction is important; he is part of arguably the most fiercely contested demographic group in November’s election: white, working-class voters in the mid-western rust belt.

John McCain, the Republican candidate, was campaigning in Michigan on Tuesday for the second time in a week and Barack Obama, the Democrat, has also been a frequent visitor. Most opinion polls show Mr Obama widening his lead in the state to about 5 points since the credit crunch turned into a full-blown crisis. But the surveys show large numbers of undecided voters and local Democratic activists admit that Mr Obama is struggling to enthuse white, blue-collar voters.

Mention the proposed $700bn (€475bn, £375bn) bail- out of Wall Street and the patrons of the Wooden Keg are more animated. “People who can’t pay their mortgages are going to look at Wall Street and say, ‘if they got bailed out why not me?’,” says Mr Rough. “It sends a message that if you screw up, the government will be there to help.”

While most accept the bail-out is necessary, many in the bar vent fury at reports of bank executives walking away with multi-million dollar “golden parachutes”. “I’ve always worked hard and done my job well, but at 50 years of age my bank account doesn’t have much to show for it,” says Mr Rough. “Then you see these Wall Street executives run banks into the ground and walk away with millions. How can that be right?”

There is little enthusiasm for the return of “big government”. But Ed Carlson, a retired GM worker, says if a bail-out of Wall Street is unavoidable, the people of Flint will expect similar help for the ailing car industry.

Mr Carlson has seen his company pension halve in value in recent years as GM’s stock has declined and he, like thousands of others, would lose his health insurance and other benefits if it went bankrupt. “It’s not as if we haven’t done what’s been asked of us,” he says. “Now it’s time for others to keep their side of the deal.”

Mr Carlson’s pleas appear to have been heard by Congress, which is expected to approve $25bn in emergency loans to domestic carmakers this week. Even Mr McCain, a long-time opponent of loans, has changed his mind. “We are not going to leave the workers here in Michigan hung out to dry while we give billions in taxpayer dollars to Wall Street,” he said last week.

Flint has become an emblem of industrial decline since 1989, when Michael Moore, the leftwing filmmaker and Flint native, made a film about the downsizing of its car industry. GM was founded in Flint and once employed 80,000 people. Today it is less than 7,000.

Michigan has the highest unemployment rate in the country at 8.9 per cent, compared with 6.2 per cent nationally. If the election was decided by the economy alone, Mr Obama would win the state by a landslide. But Bill Ballenger, editor of the Inside Michigan Politics newsletter, warns that race and cultural issues are also key. “If voters are not comfortable with Obama, they just won’t vote for him.”

Chuck McCarty, another retired GM worker, feels loyalty to the Democrats as a union member, but admits to having doubts about Mr Obama. “You should speak to my wife,” he says. “She thinks he’s the anti-Christ.”