SPREADING FRED'S FAME BEYOND VERMONT.

Byline: Sara Rimer The New York Times

With more than 70 percent of the 807 registered voters turning out on Election Day in the civic-minded town of Tunbridge, Vt., Bill Clinton got 276 votes, Bob Dole 202, Ross Perot 88, and Fred Tuttle two for president.

But Tuttle also got five write-in votes for U.S. representative, six for governor, one for lieutenant governor, three for state treasurer, two for secretary of state, one for attorney general, two for state senator, two for state representative and 14 for high bailiff.

``I'm not sure what high bailiff does,'' said Helen O'Donnell, the town clerk. But O'Donnell knows who Tuttle is. Everyone in Vermont, it seems, knows who Fred Tuttle is.

``Fred is Fred,'' O'Donnell said, with the sort of understatement that in Vermont qualifies as extravagant praise. ``There's no acting to him. He's just the way he is.''

Tuttle is a flat-broke, 77-year-old retired dairy farmer from Tunbridge who has survived three heart attacks and prostate cancer, is nearly blind in one eye, is borderline diabetic, has two ruined knees from decades of milking cows and is not a candidate for anything.

But politicians have scrambled for his endorsement and people have written him in for various political offices since his hilarious performance as a retired dairy farmer who runs for Congress in ``Man With a Plan,'' a movie made by his neighbor, John O'Brien. The movie opened in Vermont in January to rave reviews, and it opened in New York and Washington, D.C., on Nov. 1.

In the movie, Tuttle plays a man much like himself, but his character wins election without any money, political experience or spin doctors.

Tuttle, whose only previous role was a cameo in another of O'Brien's films, improvised his lines. ``He was a natural,'' said O'Brien, 33, an independent filmmaker and sheepherder who also is the town justice of the peace.

Tuttle said, ``I'd take acting lessons if I were younger.''

In his trademark hat, with ``Fred'' written across it in big letters, and his overalls, he was a guest on Conan O'Brien's late-night television show in October. Fred was Fred, as they say in Vermont. He stole the show.

Vermont used to have two celebrities: Ben and Jerry, the ice cream millionaires. Now, there are Ben and Jerry - and Fred.

Cars are plastered with ``Spread Fred'' bumper stickers, a reference to a political slogan from the movie. Tuttle was mobbed by autograph seekers at a ``Fred'' booth at this year's Tunbridge World's Fair.

In the Vermont Republican presidential primary last spring, he received write-in votes from all over the state. In some towns, he beat Sen. Phil Gramm and Morry Taylor. In Woodbury, he tied with Gen. Colin Powell; each got two votes. The headline in The Times-Argus, a state newspaper, read ``Dole takes Vermont, but Fred gets his share.''

Fame has not changed Tuttle. Far from it. ``I am always afraid of messing something up,'' said the insecure movie star, who dropped out of school in the 10th grade to help out on the family farm.

His eagerness to please got him into trouble this political season, when he endorsed opposing candidates in a few races. ``I've got to learn to say no,'' he said.

Hobbling on his two canes, Tuttle greeted some of his fans at the Tunbridge general store the other day. The owner, Bill Barry, praised his recent appearance on the television show ``You Can Quote Me,'' Vermont's version of ``Face the Nation.''

Barry said he liked what Tuttle had to say about Vermont getting to be too expensive for native Vermonters. In Tunbridge these days, old-timers like Tuttle are struggling to hold onto their land, while several millionaires have moved up from the city.

Tuttle's smile brightened the old store. Something happens when Tuttle smiles: Women hug him and kiss him on the cheek. His wife, Dottie, says she doesn't mind.

It is a sweet time for a man whose first two wives left him and who has been transformed overnight from town character to state hero.

The movie also features Tuttle's father, Joe, who has since died at 97; his friends Kermit Glines, Edgar Dodge, and Euclid and Priscilla Farnham; his cats, Snowball and Fluff, and numerous Jersey cows. It is a celebration of Tuttle and his vanishing Vermont.

Until the movie, Tuttle's main topic of conversation was his Army tour of duty in Europe during World War II. The war, he said, ``was the only event in my life, really, other than John's movie.''

Ben and Jerry threw a party after the election for Fred at a restaurant in Burlington. Hundreds of fans showed up.

``I never dreamed they'd have a party just for me,'' said Tuttle, who went with O'Brien. ``Everybody was so friendly. I ate vanilla ice cream. I drank a couple glasses of Coke.''

``I got home at 1 o'clock in the morning,'' he said.

Last week he was talking about the recent trip he made to New York with O'Brien to promote the movie. They stayed with one of O'Brien's friends, and Tuttle slept on a futon on the floor. O'Brien tricked Tuttle, a meat-and-potatoes man, into eating tofu at a Chinese restaurant in Queens. Their van broke down on the Long Island Expressway.

``They had that marathon,'' Tuttle said. ``All the traffic jams, John got lost, it was just a big mess.'' His blue eyes sparkled behind his thick glasses.

In August, on a lark, O'Brien and Tuttle had made the 25-hour drive to Chicago for the Democratic convention. They were given the red carpet treatment by the Vermont delegation. ``We left before Clinton's speech,'' O'Brien said. ``Fred said he was bored.''

With O'Brien barely able to raise the money to make the movie, none of the actors got paid. The star was never in it for the money.

``A lot of people in the United States would like to do something, but don't get to,'' Tuttle said. ``I got a chance to do something I really enjoyed. I'm going to be awful bored when it's over with.''

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Photo: Playing a retired farmer like himself, Fred Tuttle is a movie and political celebrity in Vermont, New York and Washington, D.C.

The New York Times