My Best NightThe night was a blur, like a good drunk that goes on a bit too long. The best parts remain a little fuzzy, but warm to that deep part inside you.
But I’ll remember it as one of the best nights of my life. Like all nights, first there was the day. Brian, a hard edged, quiet and determined intern from Nebraska, who also liked basket weaving and cake decorating (inside joke), took Theresa, and me out into the field. Theresa, like me, was another volunteer who had come from far away to help John Edwards.
We had a great day getting out and trying to make a difference. It was cold, but I found the company, and the people who came to their doors, to be warm. We walked and we drove and repeated, hitting about seventy doors for Edwards. Never feeling down. I was so proud when I got a lawn sign placed for Edwards.
Last House of the DayAs an aside I’d like to let you know Theresa is running a congressional campaign in New Mexico CD-3 for Don Wiviott, a first time candidate and a Progressive. Take a look, if you’re from New Mexico, or the region, I’d like to ask you to send a couple of bucks, or do what you can to help. After meeting Theresa in Iowa, I feel safe in endorsing Don Wiviott for Congress in New Mexico CD-3.
http://donfornewmexico.com/We had a great dinner at Famous Daves, I recommend the chili, and then we were off to selected locations for “flyer distribution”.
I know this is very inside stuff, but basically what it means is, you send four or five poor cold slobs out on the street, flyer’s in hand, and tell them to place them on windshields with frozen wipers. We all agreed, as we ran around a parking lot after parking lot, hands freezing, and lips turning blue, that our mission was very, very high level. Are you writing this down? If you do this, you can get second place in Iowa, while spending a quarter of the money. Remember, you didn’t hear it here.
We we’re back at Council Bluffs HQ by 9 pm, and film crews were all ready arriving. So were the people. Thirty or so were in the office, and many people were already milling about the parking lot. Remember, thirty people in that tiny, decidedly un-fancy two room office is a lot, by 9:30 it was more than 60, with 40 or more outside.
Our tiny office with staff, and volunteers.We went out to the corner of W Broadway and 34th street and waved signs. Chanting,
--”We love Elizabeth, We love John-“You all know the rest.
Outside the OfficeThat’s where we discovered the Ron Paul Supporters on the corner across the street from us. So naturally, being good, decent, polite Edwards Supporters, the Steelworkers and me walked over to say hello. This is where I’ll apologize, for that’s as good as the story really gets. But ya gotta give it to me for the intro, right? I mean, how often to you get to say, “the steelworkers and me”?
I talked to one of them about Ron Paul wanting to eliminate the Department of Education and he mumbled something about wanting the people to have a choice, and wanting the people to decide. Then I asked him if he ever knew anyone who ran for school board. Not much of an answer there. He said Paul was anti-war, and I answered even a broken clock is right two times a day.
Iowa politics is in your face and fun.
The next time I looked in the office, it was sardines. It was shoulder to shoulder packed, and then some. The press was outside, and the people were on the inside. The reporters, for that, were not happy. But for me, it was kind of funny. They walked around, looking for someone, anyone to interview as I started counting.
The Offic, with a few more people.Eric, a grand young Irish man you’ll hear more about later, passed by me and told me the bus was running late because of electrical problems. I lost count at 160 people, at 9:50. I ask a steelworker from Iowa how cold it was.
“Not too bad tonight, ‘bout 6, if ya don’t count the wind of course.”
“Of course,” I agreed, like a man, wondering if I still had toes.
I started counting again; I figured it made me look official. I was at 172 when Brian told me I’d be riding with him following the bus to Atlantic, Iowa.
“We have to leave the second it’s over.” He informed me. “We’ll be standing on a freeway exit with signs.”
I nodded solemnly. More high level stuff.
I lost count again. More people were arriving. It was 9:59.
I was counting again when John and Elizabeth showed up in vans, their bus was being worked on, and from there, it was a blur. I got one picture, then my batteries went dead. Did I have spare batteries? No. Do I feel kind of silly for that? Yes.
My one picture, the top of John's head.I found myself on a desk, and Kelsi, one of the Ca Volunteers, was trying to get a piture, and there was no way. I reached out and pulled her up on the desk with me, quite heroic if I say so myself, and she got these two great shots.
Elizabeth spoke first, and the first thing she touched on were the Christmas stockings we the staff had put up on the walls, above the window. The Edwards family had not been forgotten, they each had a stocking, and in John’s, there was a voter’s registration change of address to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Elizabeth did say that one of the things that drives her crazy about John is, “After 30 years he still looks the same.” A line that got a good laugh.
John Edwards was on fire, his anti-corporate, pro-worker stump speech fine-tuned to an art. He spoke for the 200,000 homeless veterans: “Not in this America. Not in this Iowa.” He vowed to fight for the American people, not the few, but the many. “If you’re willing to fight for something, you can get it done.”
The speech wrapped up to thunderous applause, and he was gone. Stopping to sign a book, a placard. Shake a hand, another hand. Then, through the busy crowd, through the throng, a young mother named Melinda caught John’s attention. She was saying something about her daughter, something about medical insurance, and I watched, from a few feet away, as everything stopped for John Edwards. His eyes narrowed, in the way that they do, and he listened. He pulled her in. And in the noise, in the clamor, his questions got through. As did her answers. He left knowing something about someone in a small town in Iowa, and she left that night, know who had her support.
She was there with her father, Paul, who I don’t think would mind me saying was a hard working grizzled man, with a long beard, and an engineers cap on a head of bushy red speckled gray hair. I saw the whole family four days later; at the caucus precinct I was lucky to assist at. All of them were there that night for Edwards.
From Council Bluffs, we were on our way to Atlantic, a small town 45 minutes away. Brian at the wheel, Ron riding shot gun, and me in the back between Theresa and Rob. It was just like flying coach again, except colder.
Three cars arrived to our secret location just off the hi-way. The location is only a secret because I couldn’t tell you the name if you asked me. I was reminded of the scene from Field of Dreams, when Ray Liotta asks Kevin Costner if he was in heaven, and Costner says, “It’s Iowa.”
It was just like that, except it was midnight, pitch black with a million stars overhead, and at 5 degrees, no one was playing baseball. When the bus came, we jumped and shouted, they turned on the lights and waved at us. At that point I’m pretty sure I was screaming like they were the Beatles.
We followed the bus to a little farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. The house was full, the front porch was full, and the front yard was full. There was press and cameras everywhere. I watched two volunteers from California being interviewed by Japanese TV; please don’t ask me why, because we’re all still trying to figure that one out. We were told to wait outside, because at the last stop, the press couldn’t get to John because of all of the people. Imagine that, the people were getting in the way of the press. That just tickles me.
I got to shake John’s hand again. I met Elizabeth for the first time. Then, sometime during the speech, I found myself at the doorway, standing next to Cate Edwards. No one I know has every accused me of being shy, so of course I introduced myself, and told her how much we all enjoyed her video. She was very genuine, and she introduced me to her Uncle, Elizabeth’s Brother Jay, who actually filmed the video. I found it so great that it seemed to be such a family affair effort.
As they left, we all waved and shouted good-byes of “Go John Go!” I met so many people that night, I can’t begin to mention them all, and I won’t. There were several people I met who travel with the campaign, and I am allowed to tell you, they are all very aware of the support they receive here on DU, and some of them, know some of us by name. If you ever think what you say and do is not getting through to our candidate, think again. John Edwards is a man that listens to the people.
That’s all I can say, but I want all the Supporters here to know, our voices are heard.
Up next, Caucus night…. Or how much fun
is watching paint dry?
Paula "The Face" Sorge, I can say her name,
because like other famous Hollywood actors
she endorses John Edwards.
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