At the conclusion of our visit with Obama Nation, it was dark outside and chilly. The lights from the upper windows of the complex spilled onto the street, and we were unafraid. Marra and I were energized by meeting the volunteers and the paid staffers, and of course, signing the wall. For a few minutes that evening, we were a part of something larger than ourselves. Don't all the candidates for world leader hope to inspire, in fact need to inspire, the populace like this?
Despite the upbeat ending of our political day, we crashed quickly. We went for traditional Italian at a pizzeria on Elm Street, just a few blocks down from home base. We talked, watched the Red Sox playoff game, and called it a night. Tomorrow, Tuesday, would be our last day in New Hampshire. We needed the rest. After a shower for Marra and a beer for Daddy, neither of us struggled falling asleep.
Tuesday morning began like all the other previous mornings in the hotel. I woke to find Marra sitting legs folded on the edge of the bed watched "Saved by the Bell" with the sound almost inaudible to my middle aged ears. I was grateful that she was considerate enough to let me sleep. I was equally disappointed that she was exchanging classroom time in Virginia with time watching Zack and Screech engage in a variety of middle school hi jinx. Marra was learning about climate change, immigration policy and the Iranian threat at the same time she was studying bad situation comedy and worse 1980s styles. Perhaps expecting to wake up to her watching McNeil-Lehrer is too much to ask...yet.
I was keyed up about our itinerary for the day. It would be Hillary all day, beginning with a policy address in the morning, then a visit to a child care center, an afternoon house party, and finally a 5:30 PM Town Hall meeting. When we had arrived on Saturday, none of these events were scheduled. Clinton was not even scheduled to be in the state all week. It was a gift to us when these events were added. While Marra and I would have made the best of the situation and visited more campaign headquarters, it would not have compared to seeing the Democratic front runner, the presumptive nominee of her party, and the former First Lady up close and personal. Raising a daughter in America, this day was taking on greater significance for me. I could have Marra's picture taken with the woman most likely to be the first female President of the United States. That would be something she would cherish for the rest of her life. I wanted to give that to her.
We did another breakfast at the Merrimack. We were greeted by what appeared to be a homeless woman in the vestibule. This particular woman had been there the day before as well, and the staff knew her and called her by name. She even seated Marra and me in a booth and handed us menus. She talked a bit crazy, running some nonsense words together from time to time and raising her voice occasionally. No one minded, so neither did we. At least she was helping out.
The waitress recognized us. We were regulars now on the Manchester scene. I thought I would miss the welcome feeling of familiarity when we left the next day. I thought I would especially miss hanging with my daughter, my rapidly growing up daughter. It may be cliche, but she was growing up before my eyes. I was so glad we were doing this.
The Clinton policy speech was planned for 10:30 AM, with doors opening at 10:00 AM. I wanted to get there early and guarantee a great seat. We were only 5 city blocks away. Marra insisted we stop at a used book store along the route so she would have something to read while we waited for the speech to begin. She was browsing at her signature leisurely pace, and I was jumping out of my skin. "Let's go, let's go, " I nagged. We have to get a great seat.
As I dragged Marra from the bookstore and we rounded the corner towards the YWCA, I recognized a man driving a late model town car, idling as he prepared to make a left onto Elm. "Marra, look! That's the guy who was papering cars with his JFK conspiracy manifesto at the Giuliani Town Hall in Exeter!" I recognized the wrinkled blue pinstripe suit, the bad complexion, and yellow tinted hair. Looks like Marra, me and the crazy conspiracy theorist have the same itinerary. Should I have been scared?
There was already a small line outside the YWCA, and my heart sank. 35 minutes early, and we're not even inside on line. Fortunately, the doors had not opened yet, so we were actually among the first 20 or so attendees. I couldn't believe it. The presumptive nominee, former First Lady is speaking for free, and no one is really here yet? It's a free country, but let's not take that for granted, people! The place should have been packed.
Inside the lobby of the YWCA, we saw several of the ladies who had been working in the Hillary for President headquarters the day before. The lead woman from that office, Katie, was wandering around with her coffee and Dunkin' Donuts bag, looking important with her all-access pass around her neck. The two women who were inhaling the toxic spray paint fumes were looking well, too. We spoke briefly to those who remembered us. All of these women, however, were huddled together for the most part, chatting and watching the crowd swell to a dangerous size in the limited space. In contrast to the Obama operation, this crew seemed content to just be there. The Obama crew would have been working the crowd for volunteers, winning votes. It smelled of complacency, and it was disappointing. I already thought Hillary was coasting through the debates, playing defense, and now I see her staffers acting the same way. New Hampshirites can be fickle. She has a lead in the polls now, but she'd better step it up and get her team to step it up as well.
The crowd started in a line back from the door to the auditorium, but as the numbers grew, it became more of a senior citizen mosh pit. This was a work day and a school day, so retirees dominated the scene. And retirees do not like being pushed around by anyone looking to gain a better position on the floor, especially when the room heats up. And retirees will speak up when someone cuts in line. No profanity, but they were freely expressing their dismay about the Hillary for President team's ability to organize a room. That kind of stuff will influence a vote. Why didn't Katie and the girls see that and take charge? They just sipped coffee and shared donuts.
The rumor in the hall was that the Secret Service was holding things up, checking out the premises. They had to give the all clear before opening the room for us. Serious stuff, and a far cry from a John Edwards event, that's for sure. Finally, the room was cleared of threats (like regular people asking unscripted questions, right , Hillary?), and we were allowed to enter at 10:45 AM. Our early arrival paid off. We found ourselves with 2 open seats in the first row, right on the left hand corner of the stage behind the thick purple ropes. We could touch the stage with our hands. Of course, the Secret Service would shoot us if we tried, but the point is, we were close.
The room was a petite gymnasium, circa 1920. Polished brown cinder block walls, hardwood floors, high ceilings and natural light. It seated approximately 150, but there could have been more if not for the bank of TV cameras along the back wall. Everyone in our section was asked to sign a waiver stating that our likeness may be used in a future Hillary TV commercial. We were about to be propaganda props, and we signed away like lemmings. Anything to be on TV.
Senator Clinton was scheduled to speak at 10:30 AM, but she didn't grace the stage until 11:20. I chatted with an elderly gentleman to my left, a fountain of New Hampshire political information. He pointed out all the local and state dignitaries in the crowd, such as the Democratic mayoral candidate front and center. He also pointed out 2 NH Democratic giants standing together against the wall, Bill Shaheen, husband of former Governor Jean Shaheen, and Kathy Sullivan, chairperson of the state Democratic Party. I still regret not leaving my seat to have my picture taken with these two, but I do realize that I could be the only person that would ever care about such a photo. At that moment, I confirmed my political geekness. My seat neighbor also shared with me his brush with New Hampshire political lore. He was at the Town Hall meeting when Al Gore claimed to have invented the Internet. Now, this nice man was clear that Al Gore had said no such thing, but he watched and listened as those innocent comments at that event were spun into proof of Gore penchant for exaggerating his accomplishments. I wondered if Marra and I would be a part of something like that during our brief stay. A moment that would live beyond this election cycle - Muskie's tears, Dole's "Stop lying about my record", anything. Maybe we had already been at such a moment, and didn't know it yet.
Marra never opened her new book. She was absorbing the atmosphere. As I looked at her, I could tell that the excitement was building. Even the casual observer knows who Hillary Clinton is. I was glad we were so close with an unobstructed view.
At 11:20 AM, the Senator from New York mounted the stage in a finely tailored brown pants suit with a turquoise necklace and matching earrings. This was not your mother's pants suit, definitely not off the rack. Very flattering. She looked good. I will admit, my expectations were low. Frankly, I expected her to look older in person. She was almost 60, and had been through quite a tumultuous life to date. She was bright, energetic, and dare I say pretty. She was introduced by a single mom, struggling to make ends meet. The policy address was billed as a discussion of the next phases for the Family and Medical Leave Act, and this mom's story set the emotional mood.
As for the issues, she had lots to offer the masses. She proposed expanding FMLA to include paid leave and lowering the employer threshold to 25 employees (it is currently 50 employees, and leave is unpaid). She offered up $1 billion to start state initiatives around paid leave. California already has paid family leave for workers, and several states have proposals before their legislatures. She talked about her Model Workplace Initiative, using the federal workplace as a model for promoting flexible schedules and tele-commuting. She promoted more funds for Childcare Development Block Grants, and vowed to open access to these funds to stay at home moms. Her main applause point: if you are really pro-family, you'll be behind these types of programs for building and protecting the family (take that, Mitt Romney!).
Hillary finished her speech to the middle class the middle class, the middle class (the woman can stay on message), and walked off the stage to the theme of "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" by The Police (sorry, Tim). Hillary was headed our way, and we were in the front row. All the planning was going to pay off. I was going to get a picture of Marra with Hillary.
She walked right up to me and Marra, and I told her that we had traveled over 600 miles from Virginia to see her. She was very gracious and asked, "Would you like a picture with your daughter?" She's worked these rope lines before, she knew exactly what to do. She crouched behind Marra, placed both hands on her shoulders and smiled. Click. We have a winner! I also quickly shoved my notebook in her hands and got her autograph. Both Marra and I were busting. Hillary was the rock star of the candidate field, and we just got the handshake, the photo and the autograph. Politics aside, that's pretty neat.
As we were angling to escape the crush of other well-wishers, we turned to climb over some of the folding chairs. Just before Marra crawled out of the scrum, I grabbed her attention. "Marra, look who's there!" At this moment, the crazy JFK conspiracy guy was handing Mrs. Clinton a copy of his 5 page manifesto. I couldn't hear him speaking but I did hear Hillary say, "I'll be sure to take a look at this." For a fleeting second, I imagined we were going to be eyewitness to a George Wallace campaign moment. I'm glad I was wrong.
Event Number One with Hillary was complete. I will admit, her proposals seemed very Big Government, a far cry from Bill's heady days with the centrist DLC (Democratic Leadership Council) when he played down expanding the size of government. She lacked the passion of Edwards, but in some ways, the trappings of former First Lady made up for that by making her seem more "presidential". Between the security presence and the limited access to her, you got the feeling that she was already President. It takes a lot of passion to overcome that kind of a head start.
The day stalking Hillary had just begun. We still had questions to ask.
JS
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