My very first diary entry, so please be gentle! And I'm not a political writer or a political person, just a pilgrim going along for the ride of life.
I was stumbling home from work yesterday morning (I work the graveyard shift on Wall Street and take the PATH train home) and kept seeing posters for an Obama rally taped to telephone poles. I thought they said "A Rally FOR Obama," but eventually through my befogged and befuddled vision, I realized they said, "Rally for Change / WITH Barack Obama."
Amazing what a difference a single preposition can make!
There was a website address to sign up for invitations, which I dutifully did. The rally was scheduled to start at 2:30 p.m., but being warned by the experience of my friends (who got up at 4:00 a.m. to drive to Columbia, SC for the Obama rally there and still found themselves at the back of a huge queue), I decided to meander over to St. Peter's College at 11:00 a.m. There were already about 10 people who had taken their kids out of school and had been waiting since about 8:30.
The day was crystalline, in the 50s, but very gusty (thank heavens, the preceding week it had been in the 20s). At about 11:00, an Obama coordinator marched 30 of us with invitations into the building. I dawdled behind to gawk at the gymnasium (which had a dais with more cameras mounted on it than the Daytona 500). Then, inexplicably, the volunteer marched us back outside again. I had been at the end of this group and now found myself at the front.
There were hundreds of volunteers who were let in ahead of us, scores of dignitaries, three buses of senior citizens, and the entire student body of St. Peters. We were afraid there wouldn't be room for any of us hoi polloi, but fortunately, these fears turned out to be unfounded.
There were also quite a few of those guys with five dollar haircuts and unsmiling expressions skulking about. (But despite my remarks about their sartorial taste, thank heavens they were there, as the event was totally uneventful security-wise). Someone I was talking to said that she had been to an earlier Obama rally in Newark (long before Iowa), where there had been no security apparatus at all. Also more policeman than I've ever seen outside the third act of a Batman movie (or the Second Annual People's Park Rally in Berkeley), but they were all amazingly good natured. Didn't see a single snarl on any of them, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves. (Quite a compliment coming from a 60s hippie). The law enforcement gatekeeper, whose name I didn't catch, was unfailingly polite to everyone pestering him with claims of their importance and necessity of why they should be admitted early. I think after about the third confrontation, I would be ready to belt someone. I asked him how he managed to maintain his aplomb, and he replied, "Oh, we deal with this every day."
There were only three metal detectors for several thousand people, so it took a while to get through (and several thousand more out on the street who didn't). Eventually, the gymnasium became a standing room only, and at some point, someone thrust a fingerpainted sign into my hand, "lOyal/aBle/chAnge/aMerica/Awesome. It was very amateurish and my high school election posters had higher production values, but somehow it managed to be sweet and endearing, and I held it up and wiggled it around at the all the appropriate places.
There was no real schedule to the event, various dignitaries speaking at unpredictable intervals. The only entertainment was rock music over the loudspeakers (including a song from Matchbox 20 that I heard for the first time and loved, but I don't the name) until a girl's choir from Saint Dominick's Academy sang. And the woman who sang "The Star Spangled Banner" (and whose name I unfortunately did not get) hit some way out notes with a vibrato that had everyone on their feet.
Unlike so many other rallies where every emotion, every nuance is carefully choreographed, every beat orchestrated, this one felt a lot like America itself, energetic, spontaneous, optimistic, a little bit rag-tag and unthought out, but ultimately very cheerful and likeable.
And unlike many of those other rallies (which always reminded me of the gathering of the Aryan nations with the exception of the token black gospel choir), this crowd to me also resembled America: black, white, brown, every color imaginable, infants in arms to the senior citizens with their walkers, a lot of the have-nots and a few of the have-mores, women in headscarves and those in sleeveless dresses. Even more astonishing to me, the crowd comprised the complete spectrum of support for Obama, from the die-hard-do-anything-to get-him-elected supporters to those who were openly cynical and skeptical (like the high school students behind me, who only came because they were let off early if they would attend. We were like that once ourselves, proud, sardonic but most probably insecure). Obviously no litmus test of partisanship, ideology or registration had pre-screened the people in this gymnasium, EVERYONE was invited.
The real surprise to me was Cory Booker, the Mayor of Newark. He was electric and revved up the crowd until it was roaring. I'm from the South, and I felt as if I were in the presence of one of those mesmerizing old-timey preachers. I was just about ready to march up to the front and sign whatever was on offer. Hint to politicophiles, keep your eyes on this guy. He's going places.
Obama's appearance was delayed, and an announcer apologized. "The gymnasium cannot hold the thousands of people standing in line outside, and Obama does not want to disappoint them. He's taking a few minutes to greet them."
Finally, to chants of O-Bam-A, that lasted so long and loud that even his gestures to chill went unrecognized, the man himself bounded onstage. He was tired, as he admitted up front, his voice a little hoarse, and not as riproaring as he often is, but this provided a pleasant note of thoughtfulness. He was affable, accessible, and alternated the "I's" with the "you's" quite nicely.
He touched all the bases he usually did, in terms of policy and personal history, so I won't repeat them here, but he seemed to be emphasizing healthcare much more in this speech than he has previously. He also told the heartwrenching story of his mother (about whom I have often wondered), at age 53, on her deathbed with newly diagnosed cancer, surrounded by insurance forms. She had just switched jobs, and the new insurance company claimed that her cancer was "a pre-existing condition" and thus not covered by her policy.
Why do I think this guy just might fight on our behalf?
What also struck me was how he avoided the trap of attacking his rivals. He made some comments about the current administration, but they were reasonable, not vicious. And he seemed genuine, not consciously suppressing his true feelings, about not criticizing those who are devoting vast resources into seeing him fail. How many of us could be so mute in face of such opposition arrayed against us?
He spoke for forty minutes without notes and afterwards made a circuit inside the barrier, shaking hands with the swarm, maintaining the graciousness that seems to be his innate nature.
Once again, it took forever for us to exit, but at last we made it out into the soothing twilight, cheered and upbeat.
I remember once seeing a poster of the silent Indian master, Meher Baba, who said, "You and I are not 'we' but One."
That concept has always struck me, and observing this variegated crowd, as diverse in every possible metric you can imagine, connected by their common humanity rather than bonded into a group by opposition and difference, was reassuring on a very deep emotional level. Hate it say, but it did indeed give me hope for this country, that yes, "You and I are not 'we' but One."
These are just my off-the-cuff thoughts and impressions, but I wanted to try and provide a little taste of of what it felt being there for those of you who couldn't make it or were trapped on the sidewalk on Kennedy Boulevard.
Ps. My only disappointment is man, this guy should get himself a REAL theme song. And quick. Maybe they could have an online poll, the ObamaVision Online Song Contest. Plus a better chant, "Yes, we can!" It's SO generic, and well, they CAN too.