(Monday, Aug. 1, 2024. National Observatory, Washington, D.C.) nnDouglas Emhoff heard the phone before his wife did.
“Honey. … Honey!”
“What?”
Emhoff watched his wife turn toward the phone. He could feel her tense up. Something was up. He stroked her back. She wasn’t saying anything.
Then: “OK.”
“What?” Emhoff asked as she turned toward him.
“He’s gone.”
“Who?”
She looked at him.
He held her.
Joseph R. Biden, the 46th president of the United States, had died of stress cardiomyopathy after a brief stay at Walter Reed Medical Center. Kamala Harris, the first Black woman to be vice president of the United States, was now the first Black woman to be president of the United States. She was driven to and sworn in at the Oval Office. She thought it was important for the nation to see her as president in the Oval Office.
She gave a speech. Dave Cavell, her speechwriter, texted it to her as the motorcade snaked through Washington. He would meet her there. She sat — presidents sit when addressing the nation, she reminded herself— and after telling the nation President Biden was gone, she added, “Americans come together at times like this.”
America had never had times like this.
Later that day, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell called Biden “my friend, an honorable man”; Lindsey Graham cried; House Speaker Mike Johnson said he hoped God would have mercy on Biden’s soul.
What about Donald Trump? Joe Biden was now dead six hours. Nothing. Finally an announcement from Mar-a-Lago.
“I offer my condolences to his family. I doubt he would have done the same had I died first. It makes only sense I should be president now.”
“Jesus!” Harris said to herself, watching him.
She’d need a vice president. She needed a White man. She called Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania. It might help, too, because she’d need the state — no, she didn’t want to think like that. He was a Jew. It could be a problem.
He accepted.
It was.
Georgia Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene tweeted, “A Black and a Jew? Where will their loyalties be? We need real Americans.”
Texas Sen. Ted Cruz said about Greene, “That’s not the language I would have used to describe them. Besides, what about the language they use against us?”
DNC chairman Jaime Harrison quickly sent out a statement that Harris was going to be the nominee in 2024, reminding Democrats that after Alben Barkley, who served under Truman, every Democratic VP became or was nominated to become the next president. Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg called Harris to say he would not oppose her; so did New Jersey Sen. Cory Booker, so did Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer. The only one major Democratic official not calling was her longtime friend/nemesis California Gov. Gavin Newsom. Harrison decided it would be Harris and he shut down the debate. Former Presidents Obama and Clinton gave Harris their support. Harrison asked Hillary Clinton to not issue a statement — she didn’t. Meanwhile, Harris’ approval rating among Americans, according to Five Thirty Eight, was 37.5% favorable, 53.5% unfavorable. She was “enthusiastically” supported by only 30% of Democrats, according to CBS.
(Aug. 22, 2024. United Center, Chicago. Democratic National Convention)
It was in the hands of the superdelegates. Newsom, who left the convention on Tuesday to head back to California’s raging wildfires, issued a statement: “We must defeat Donald Trump. Nothing is more important. I support the party’s nominee.”
It was lost on nobody that he hadn’t mentioned Harris’ name.
Retiring Sen. Joe Manchin (D-West Virginia) told delegates, “America is here [his hand moved right] and we Democrats are here [his hand moved left]. They aren’t the problem. We are.”
He was booed.
He wasn’t wrong.
During her acceptance speech, Harris said, “I want to be a president for the Black activist, the indigenous shop owner, the Jewish scholar, the fourth-generation Kentucky farmer,” before thanking her mother, Shyamala Gopalan; Doug; and her children, Cole and Ella.
Onstage, she and Shapiro locked hands and held them high. The balloons didn’t drop. They were stuck. Harris playfully jumped up trying to untether them from the net. The band played Pharrell Williams’ “Happy.”
CBS cut away to Harrison on his cellphone, screaming and pointing to the balloons.
The next day, in the Washington Post, George Will wrote, “Last night, the president touched all the bases in her speech to America, forgetting that a good portion of the country doesn’t want all the bases to be touched.” On Real Time With Bill Maher, Cornel West told Maher, “Why did she say ‘Black activist’? Why were Jews the professors? Why is the president, my Black sister, sounding like every White racist who thinks all we good Black folk do is play sports with troubled kids.”
Harris knew she’d made a mistake, but why did he have to call her “my Black sister”?
After the convention, a campaign swing took her to Newark, New Jersey; Skokie, Illinois; and Santa Cruz, California.
“Why am I going to California?” she asked Sheila Nix, her chief of staff, her third one.
Nix told her it was for the wildfires. What she didn’t tell the president was she was beating Trump by only 11 in an internal poll.
Trump, in Erie, Pennsylvania, mocked Harris’ mother. “Shymala?” he said to the crowd of 3,700 at the Bayfront Convention Center. “What kind of name is that? Where are they from?”
The crowd responded, “A sh*thole country.”
“Don’t say that,” Trump said with a smile. “They’ll think we’re racists instead of proud Americans.”
The following Monday, a Wall Street Journal/NBC poll had Trump beating Harris by seven nationally, ahead in Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin, and tied in Minnesota and New Jersey.
(To be continued.)
Barry Friedman is an essayist, political columnist, petroleum geology reporter — quit laughing — and comedian living in Tulsa, Okla. His latest book, “Jack Sh*t: Volume One: Voluptuous Bagels and other Concerns of Jack Friedman” is out and the follow-up, “Jack Sh*t, Volume 2: Wait For The Movie. It’s In Color” was scheduled to be released this spring. In addition, he is the author of “Road Comic,” “Funny You Should Mention It,” “Four Days and a Year Later,” “The Joke Was On Me,” and a novel, “Jacob Fishman’s Marriages.” See barrysfriedman.com and friedmanoftheplains.com.
From The Progressive Populist, March 15, 2024
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