BOSTON (AP) – Sixteen years ago, he was the one trudging through the snows of New Hampshire and the cornfields of Iowa, trying to break out from the pack of Democratic candidates to take on a man named Bush.

These days, Michael Dukakis is far away from the crowds, the cameras and the political action. Instead, he spends his days at the end of a crowded hallway at Northeastern University, grading papers in a small, sparsely decorated brick office.

He gets around town without an entourage, often by foot, picking up trash along his two-mile walk to work each morning. On his rare visits to the Statehouse, where he presided for three terms as governor, he walks up the familiar steps alone, lugging a briefcase and nodding to those who recognize the familiar face from the past.

Once at the center of the political universe as the apparent presidential front-runner just weeks before Election Day, Dukakis has become an everyman, blending back into the constituency he once governed.

“At one point in 1988, he was very likely to be president,” said Larry Sabato, a presidential scholar at the University of Virginia. “Now he answers his own phone. I don’t even do that. It reminds me of the founders’ ideal of returning to the plow after leaving public life. That’s what he’s done. He’s assumed the superior position of the citizen.”

The diminutive Greek-American with the bushy eyebrows has also become a cautionary tale, a campaign caricature, a political ghost that Democratic candidates – even his former lieutenant governor, John Kerry – are loathe to be associated with.

His much-ridiculed ride in a tank, and the picture of him poking his helmeted head out of the top, has become a legendary example of what not to do during a national campaign – and an indelible symbol of his swift descent from August front-runner to November loser.

In Massachusetts, Republicans have used his name as a bludgeon against their opponents, accusing a series of Democratic gubernatorial candidates of wanting to return to the “days of Dukakis” when he and the Legislature passed what was then the largest tax increase in state history.

“That must be painful,” said former House Speaker George Keverian, who roasted the former governor at a recent 70th birthday party. “He was a liberal in the best sense of the word and I don’t personally think there’s anything wrong with that. But in today’s politics, no one wants to be called that anymore.”

Dukakis is very forthright about his performance in 1988 and well aware of his status within presidential lore.

“We ran a picture perfect primary but screwed up the final election,” Dukakis said. “I wasn’t ready for the attacks. I should have been. It’s too bad but nobody’s going to make that mistake again. I hope. The attacks were somewhat unprecedented, but that’s no excuse for not being prepared.”

For Dukakis, there is no nostalgia, no regret during this period in the election cycle, when the primary race brings back memories of a time when he had a chance of being the leader of the free world.

“You usually have only one bite at the apple,” he says. “But I have some wonderful memories and I met some great people who I’m still in touch with.”

He remains a fierce partisan with passionate views on the issues of the day, including President Bush – “This is the worst national administration I’ve ever lived under” – and Bush’s Medicare plan – “It’s a terrible bill.”

Dukakis served on the board of Amtrak for five years, part of his deep commitment to public transportation and the “streetcars” that he took to work as governor and still fiercely defends. He currently is working with state lawmakers to devise an alternative to Republican Gov. Mitt Romney’s plan so it focuses more on improving commuter rail service.

Despite Dukakis’s soured national reputation, he is beloved within his party in Massachusetts, particularly now that memories of past battles and embarrassments have begun to fade.

When the party threw Dukakis a 70th birthday fete last month, more than 1,400 of the Democratic faithful attended, filling ballrooms and balconies.

What Dukakis’ less-than-flattering reputation obscures, supporters say, is that he was a strong candidate who received 46 percent of the vote – 3 percentage points more than Bill Clinton secured in winning a three-way race in 1992.

“The truth is he was a very successful politician,” said Phil Johnston, the Democratic State Party chairman and member of the Dukakis administration. “He was elected governor three times, he was nominated for the presidency. He deserves and I believe has the respect of most citizens.”

What his reception will be next summer, when national party leaders hold their presidential convention in Boston, is less clear. As the last presidential nominee from Massachusetts, he would seem an obvious candidate for some time in the spotlight.

“But they’re going to want to run away from them as much as possible,” said Republican political consultant Rob Gray. “He’s going to be a hot potato for the national party and the Democratic nominee at next year’s convention.”

Even if they don’t want his advice, Dukakis has plenty of insights on the ongoing Democratic battle, including the apparently stumbling campaign of another Massachusetts son – Kerry, the state’s junior senator, who served as his second-in-command at the Statehouse for two years.

“Everyone goes through rough patches,” Dukakis said. “The question is whether you can come out on the other side. You just have to put your head down and keep on working.”

AP-ES-12-06-03 1848EST