Dennis Kucinich's political star never burned brighter than it did on a balmy fall evening nearly 35 years ago in downtown Cleveland.

It was Nov. 8, 1977, and the ballroom and hallways of the Holiday Inn on Lakeside Avenue bulged with nearly 1,300 delirious supporters celebrating the election of the city's youngest mayor ever.

The star, so bright that night, would flicker often in the years that followed. So many times did Kucinich battle back from oblivion that at times it seemed inextinguishable.

Of course, it wasn't.

And Tuesday night, in a little Lorain Avenue restaurant, in the heart of what was once an impenetrable political base, it flamed out.

Perhaps for good.

Fewer than 50 people were there for the end.

Those who weren't may have missed the final drama of one of the most magical -- and often controversial -- political careers in Cleveland's 216 years.

Not surprisingly, Kucinich's lopsided loss to 15-term veteran Marcy Kaptur in last Tuesday's Democratic congressional primary immediately prompted speculation about his future. Kucinich fueled that talk last year by flirting with running for an open congressional seat in the Seattle area.

But results from his race against Kaptur made clear that, for now, there is no viable option for Kucinich elsewhere. Outside his home county, Tuesday's results were a catastrophe.

Of the five counties in the new 9th Congressional District, Kucinich lost four -- including the battleground county of Lorain, which is a part of the Cleveland media market.

In Lucas County, the heart of Kaptur's Toledo-area base, Kucinich received 3.68 percent of the vote. In contrast, Kaptur received more than 24 percent in Cuyahoga County -- and an astonishing 94.2 percent in Lucas. In Ottawa County, Kucinich ran third behind Kaptur and newcomer Graham Veysey.

Until this election, Kucinich was never one to whine about an opponent's tactics. But in the wake of Tuesday's defeat, he complained bitterly about Kaptur's television advertisements. Called "Saint Marcy" by some, Kaptur took some decidedly unsaintly shots at her rival.

But Kaptur's negative ads were hardly the difference in a race she won by nearly 13,000 votes -- and more than 16 percentage points.

Kucinich lost because Kaptur performed far better with her voters than Kucinich did with his.

County Councilman Dale Miller, Kucinich's most loyal political ally, was the sole elected official to attend Tuesday night's Kucinich event at Rubin's Deli and Restaurant on Lorain Avenue.

When it became clear that Kucinich would lose, Miller said Kucinich's strong showing in Cuyahoga County (72.5 percent of the vote) was proof he had "reconnected" with his base.

Implicit in that was an acknowledgment that the eight-term congressman's unimpressive vote totals in 2008 and 2010 were telltale signs of erosion.

But there was a time when no one understood Cleveland and its people better than Kucinich. He was their greatest champion. As longtime Cleveland-area pollster Bob Dykes explained Wednesday, Kucinich "gave voice to their aspirations and their concerns."

Kucinich has always been a bit quirky. He spends less time in Cleveland than in years past, is no longer close with some who were his good friends for decades, and a second race for president (2008) disenchanted many of his most loyal voters.

He won back some of them Tuesday. But the big victories both Kaptur and Kucinich piled up in their home counties can also be attributed to the fact that Cleveland voters didn't want a Congress member from Toledo any more than people in Toledo wanted one from Cleveland.

There were no blunders in Kucinich's campaign to prolong a career in elected life that dates back to 1969. And those whatever-it-takes political tactics made famous in the 1970s are now a part of his ancient past.

But, as I wrote at the time, this race became essentially unwinnable for him last Dec. 14. That's when Democrats close to Kaptur persuaded Republicans who run the legislature to amend the new congressional map in a way that gave Kaptur a decided advantage.

"Dennis has a quixotic element about him, but he's been very special to me, personally," said Councilman Jay Westbrook, elected to council with Kucinich's support in 1979 and one of those who celebrated with him on that night long ago at the Holiday Inn. "This was set up for her to win and Dennis to lose. It's not the right way for him to end his career."

In this, perhaps his final race for high office, the "boy mayor" who often fought so hard for political survival, never had a fighting chance.