I too was born and raised in the ‘Burgh area. I left when my job got shipped to Alabama in the late eighties. Most of the folks I knew were indeed conservative, but voted straight rat every time.
I remember my first time voting - I had registered independent, and went to the polling place (my old junior high school gym). When I walked in the little old lady smiled at me and led me to the rat table, just as nice as she could be. When I told her I was not a rat, she changed like Jekyll to Hyde instantly - “you go OVER THERE!” she snarled, pointing to the dark back corner where the lonely Republican table was set up.
All righty fellow yinzer, one 'Burgh story leads to another. Yours was about voting and mine's about a routine trip home from work that took me through Homestead.
After I got off the high-level bridge, I happened to notice some strikers on "duty" on a typical Pittsburgh gray, wintry day. They had the usual trashcan burning for warmth as well as a big coffee urn. Being a thrifty sort, I pulled over to avail myself of some free java. After some pleasant chitchat about the Stillers (then in the Super Bowl glory days of the 70's), I asked what their beef was with the company they were picketing. This is where it got "interesting".
The head union goon was all huffy about some of the jobs going to South Carolina because (as he phrased it), "dem jagoffs dahn der don't got no union". I asked him what was the specific grievance for the strike action. He said the company was using the threat of the South Carolina relocation to lower the wages for those who would remain at the Homestead facility. I then inquired what the wage reduction would mean. A cut down to $20.00 an hour! This was in the 70's and I was doing about $8.00 hourly.
When I told him what I made, he said that although $20.00 an hour might seem like a lot, he had seniority (a very big thing with unionistas) and that it would be impossible to raise his SIX KIDS on that kind of wage!
As gently as possible (since I was enjoying their coffee), I asked him if the ####### ##### Company held a gun to his head and ordered him to have those six kids. Whoosh! Right over his head. So it was one more cup of coffee and our chitchat returned to talk of Rocky Bleier.
Ahh....the old hometown...such memories! :-)