2008 Woodie Awards
Obama compassionate during political autopilot
Gunnar Heinrich
Issue date: 2/13/08 Section: Opinion
There's a kind of glaze that politicians develop when politicking. It's a smiling yet strangely blank expression that's similar to the gelatinous film that sugar coats a fruit tart. You look for registration in eye contact only to find that no one's at the helm because the pilot's on coffee break while the political machine is on autopilot. The glaze tells us that as voters we are solitary tiles that are only valued when fitted into the great electoral mosaic.
Standing in a receiving line to meet Bill Clinton at a Democratic campaign rally in Providence two Novembers ago, the former president managed to look at no one in particular while he worked the masses with both cold hands. It was only when a forty-something woman blushed at the presence that Clinton's attention stirred into excited focus. Seizing an opportunity to play rock star, Clinton locked his eyes on hers, took the woman's hand in his and kissed it.
At Hartford's packed XL Center last Monday, Barack Obama wore a similar if somber glaze as he worked the line of wild supporters on his way to speak before thousands. Hand after hand was shook with the same clenched jaw. The hard campaign showed. And while the Obama machine was on hand shaking autopilot, the pilot inside seemed busy mulling the turbulent course ahead.
But for a moment, that weight lifted.
Armed with the most picture perfect baby, the woman next to me raised her infant to see Obama draw near. True to form of all cute babies, the toddler let out a squeal of delight which brought the consternated senator to absolute stop. With a compassionate tilt of his head, he took the one toothed wonder in his arms and put the attending press, the Kennedys, and the rest of Connecticut on hold. A long moment passed as a lighter Obama gave the fatherly benediction. Then, returning baby back to mother's arms, the heavy façade returned in time to passively shake your correspondent's hand.
According to the Washington Post, more than 17,000 people witnessed the Obama spectacle that day in Hartford. We in our thousands stood on cold concrete as part of a never ending line that snaked its way through the convention center's hallways; spilling outside and down the block to round the corner of South Church and Trumbull. Backs against a wall, on my left patiently stood a Muslim cleric and his wife and on my right was an enthusiastic Black couple from Hartford. Together, we found solidarity as the hours past against the shuffling incompetence of the campaign volunteers whose idea of crowd management was to periodically demand us to "back up!"
Standing in a receiving line to meet Bill Clinton at a Democratic campaign rally in Providence two Novembers ago, the former president managed to look at no one in particular while he worked the masses with both cold hands. It was only when a forty-something woman blushed at the presence that Clinton's attention stirred into excited focus. Seizing an opportunity to play rock star, Clinton locked his eyes on hers, took the woman's hand in his and kissed it.
At Hartford's packed XL Center last Monday, Barack Obama wore a similar if somber glaze as he worked the line of wild supporters on his way to speak before thousands. Hand after hand was shook with the same clenched jaw. The hard campaign showed. And while the Obama machine was on hand shaking autopilot, the pilot inside seemed busy mulling the turbulent course ahead.
But for a moment, that weight lifted.
Armed with the most picture perfect baby, the woman next to me raised her infant to see Obama draw near. True to form of all cute babies, the toddler let out a squeal of delight which brought the consternated senator to absolute stop. With a compassionate tilt of his head, he took the one toothed wonder in his arms and put the attending press, the Kennedys, and the rest of Connecticut on hold. A long moment passed as a lighter Obama gave the fatherly benediction. Then, returning baby back to mother's arms, the heavy façade returned in time to passively shake your correspondent's hand.
According to the Washington Post, more than 17,000 people witnessed the Obama spectacle that day in Hartford. We in our thousands stood on cold concrete as part of a never ending line that snaked its way through the convention center's hallways; spilling outside and down the block to round the corner of South Church and Trumbull. Backs against a wall, on my left patiently stood a Muslim cleric and his wife and on my right was an enthusiastic Black couple from Hartford. Together, we found solidarity as the hours past against the shuffling incompetence of the campaign volunteers whose idea of crowd management was to periodically demand us to "back up!"
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