How to begin to describe the 2020 Iowa caucuses and the weekend leading up to the confusion, the chaos, the cacophony…
I’ll start with bald eagles. Eagles are more common than blue jays in Iowa, at least that’s how it seemed to me. I saw several bald eagles in five days, and I wasn’t even looking. The only other bird that made its presence known was a barred owl that I heard Sunday morning in Cedar Rapids. No blue jays, no sparrows, no starlings: no average birds.
Eagles and owls: the quintessential symbols of America and wisdom. I came to the center of this state, the center of the union, and, for these five days(and counting, still counting!), the center of the universe, seeking America, seeking knowledge, seeking wisdom. I found seven human eagles: Pete, Amy, Elizabeth, Bernie, Tom, Joe, and Andrew, and a wise owl named Bill Weld.
I logged 398 miles on this trip, from Des Moines to Davenport, from Bettendorf to Iowa City, from Coralville to Cedar Rapids, then back to Des Moines, chasing these eagles, trying to catch up with this owl. Only one eagle eluded me- Andrew Yang. He was flying around at the far northern reaches of the state, while I was on a flyway that stretched east from Des Moines, then circled back like a homing pigeon bearing slightly north, perhaps from the magnetic pull of the Pole.
Accompanying me were a gaggle of avians I had never heard of before, but who welcomed me into their flock: the Varied Caucus Tourist Birds. This species appears in Iowa every four years in late January and early February, then returns to its home range, scattered all over the globe, until the next Caucus season.
Scientists posit that they do not mate during this iruption. Instead, they chatter and flit. Some are here to write or photograph, some are just curious. Others exhibit peculiar door knocking behavior thought to benefit the eagles in some way. Oddly, these woodpecker- like door knockers tend to be young birds or birds at or past middle age.
I met and was interviewed by journalists from Australia and Holland and Cedar Rapids and Slate Magazine. and I hung out with other birds like me from Portland, Oregon, Montclair and Summit, NJ, Wisconsin, Tennessee, Minnesota, Indiana, and a group of three female birds who made the long trip up from Texas by car. Nothing can stop this species from congregating for a raucous caucus.
This trip was unlike any of my previous 50 in the Fifties jaunts. Since the candidates’ schedules were constantly evolving, and the four senators who were still in the race had to be in Washington for the Impeachment Trial of Donald J. Trump, I left all my options open for as long as I possibly could. I wasn’t at all sure I would see Sanders, Warren, or Klobuchar. Bennett was not planning any events. He is staking his hopes on New Hampshire.
A few days before departure, I decided to track down Eagle 1, Pete Buttegieg, in Davenport my first night. I had to land in Des Moines and drive to the Mississippi River more than 169 miles east, but at least I was sure he would show up! By the time I arrived at his rally, I had already seen my first bald eagle, swooping low over the broad expanse of the river.
Mayor Pete’s event at a local college was packed. I had to park on a snow cluttered residential street a few blocks away. It seems the reason there is no traffic in Iowa is that everyone is parked and attending campaign events. I was beyond excited and ran the distance to the gym.
The only veteran in the race. The only millenial. The only candidate of Maltese descent. The only gay candidate. The only candidate who speaks seven languages. The only concert pianist. But no longer the only mayor (Mike Bloomberg).
Pete struck me as funny, confident, solid without being stolid. Like me, he looks forward to the day when he wakes up in the morning and Trump is no longer president. The last three years have filled me with anxiety. What has Trump said or tweeted or done overnight? Never before have I felt compelled to think about the president, to worry about him. Every. Single. Day.
Pete is young, but 38 is not that young. Heck, twenty years ago, I was 38! He doesn’t have as much experience as others, but he is a very smart dude, a Rhodes Scholar, a quick study for sure. I wouldn’t dismiss him out of hand.
Neither did Iowa. He WON. I think… He thinks so, too. More on this later.
Saturday
The next morning, I woke up to coffee and homemade waffles served up by my Air BNB host family, followed by a rousing game of floor hockey with their 3 (and a half) year old son. They were ardent Bernie supporters. I was considering a trip up to Clinton, Iowa to run a 4 mile race at noon, but at the last second, I checked the Senate Impeachment Trial Schedule. The Senators had the weekend off! That meant Amy would be in Bettendorf, 8 minutes away, at 10:30 that morning. I can run 4 miles anywhere at any time. I was in Iowa for something different, something historic, something I couldn’t accomplish anywhere else. I threw my bags in the car and headed straight for Bikes N Brew.
The early bird gets the worm… in this case a chance to be first in line, first in the door, and first to view the Varied Caucus Bird up close. Michael, Marie, Robert, and I took a table front and center and I bought coffee for all, including I am Not Arthur, who lives in Iowa and blogs for the Daily Kos.
Amy was introduced by local politicians and by her daughter, Abigail, who has been making Amy’s ground beef and tater tot hot dish and hosting parties for Amy while she does jury duty for the Trump trial.
Amy is amiable and energetic. She is one of three candidates in the top tier in Iowa who is neither Medicare-eligible nor young (Tom Steyer and Andrew Yang are the others.) She has won every election since fourth grade, though she admitted to ditching her campaign slogan from that first run: Go All the Way with Amy K. She has shown the ability to win in red districts and blue districts. She has passed 100 bills in her time in the Senate, which shows she is effective, even when in the minority. Bernie cannot knock her off that perch.
I found myself drawn to her. She’s genuine, quick on her feet, and approachable. Like you could definitely have a beer with her if it wasn’t 10:30 am. Seems my endorsement doesn’t do a candidate much good, however. She was 5th, I think, which is as much as anyone knows. But she said she is punching above her weight. Or at least she did when she had to guess how well she had done on caucus night. More on that later.
What is it going to take for us to elect a woman? Are we there yet?
Next up for me was a drive to Iowa City to net another Senator and woman, Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts. Even after a trip to Panera Bread and a gander at 8 bald eagles in one tree, I was still early enough to be first in line. There is nothing wrong with being early. I met an ardent Elizabeth supporter named Katie who was planning to caucus for her. I also met a boy of around fourteen who was sitting on the polished floor of the high school, arms and legs akimbo, waiting with his mom. He told me he is a climate striker, and has skipped school to protest our failure to address climate change. His mom told me that he wrote to Greta Thunberg and told her that the Iowa River floods in Coralville, and the situation is serious. He asked her to come to Iowa City.
Greta Thunberg read the letter, and she took a sailboat across the Atlantic Ocean, and she came to Iowa City. All because of a kid who wasn’t afraid to ask.
When the gym doors finally opened, Katie and I found ourselves in the second row of seats, right behind a reserved section. We thought perhaps we were going to be stuck behind some reporters and unable to see over their cameras. Nooooo. We were seated right behind Senator Warren’s husband, son, and, most importantly, her dog.
Bailey is campaigning hard to be first dog. He is in a tight race with Buddy and Truman Buttegieg. Not sure if the other candidates have dogs, but if not, they should get some.
Ayanna Pressley introduced Senator Warren. She is just incredible. Wow’d the crowd. An amazing young talent. After she spoke, she sat down RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. I didn’t expect to be so close to the action. I was star struck. There was no place on earth I’d rather have been.
Senator Warren was running late, pretty darn late, so she had to put Bailey on selfie duty, and I wasn’t able to get a handshake or a photo. (That’s why I don’t feel like I am on a first name basis with her.) She dreamed of being a teacher since second grade. She was married young, and divorced, had many years as a single mom. She worked and raised her kids and graduated from Harvard Law. Later on, she met Bruce, and they have been together ever since. In 2010, she was tapped by President Obama to head the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau. She wanted to stop manufacturers from making unsafe products, like the toaster oven that almost burned her house down.
Senator Warren stands as a left- of- center candidate. Compared to Bernie Sanders, she is the less extreme alternative on the left side of the party. Her over-arching campaign theme is that we have to end the corruption in Washington, but I feel she could highlight that more. She supports Medicare for all, but rather than imploding the current system, she proposes a large-scale demonstration project. Adept at explaining complex issues for people outside the beltway, Warren is particularly concerned about the mental health and substance abuse crisis in our nation, and would allocate $100 billion to address it. She wants a 2 cent tax on accumulated fortunes of $50 million and above. Something tells me the minute that legislation takes effect, no one will have anything above $49.999 million.
I think she would make a fine president. She could certainly teach us a thing or two. She has a plan for everything. She is organized, steady, and caring. If all this sounds like faint praise, it kind of is. There is nothing wrong with Warren. But in a very strong, and especially, NUMEROUS flock, her plumage didn’t stand out.
Elizabeth Warren finished third in Iowa.
I took off after this event and had to fly straightaway to my Bed and Breakfast in Cedar Rapids. This bird was hungry and tired and dehydrated, but hey, if the candidates can do it, so can I. Luckily, I was under two miles from Bernie’s evening event, a free concert with Vampire Weekend. What a brilliant political move. He had 3,000 people in the arena. No telling how many were really for him, and how many just wanted to hear the acoustic concert, but it sure looked good on camera.
Filmmaker Michael Moore spoke, as did three members of the Congressional Black Caucus, including Ilhan Omar. Cornel West was next. He was a very controversial professor when I was at Princeton, partly for his views, and partly for the color of his skin. (There were very few blacks on the faculty in the 1980s.)
Finally, Jane Sanders spoke, and introduced her husband. The crowd went wild. But my late arrival had put me in nosebleed seats; I couldn’t hear any of the substance, and I was really afraid that if I stayed for the music I would never get out of the parking garage. I knew, thanks to the iowademocrats.org, that Bernie was speaking the following day at his Cedar Rapids campaign headquarters. I would give him another chance there.
I went to bed in a carriage house at the top of a hill, too hungry and wired to sleep. And the following morning, I arose to greet a warm winter’s day, soothed by the call of a barred owl. “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?” Luckily for me and the couple from Illinois who were in town canvassing for Amy, and the three millenials who were knocking for Bernie, our innkeeper prepared a three course breakfast for us.
Sunday
So many people showed up to hear Bernie at his campaign headquarters that they had to move the event to the parking lot. I had plenty of time to make new friends, like the super tall and enthusiastic Bernie supporter who kept opening his phone to the website and showing me pages upon pages of detail on the Green New Deal and other platform positions. He was up on his toes and talking fast. I found it easier to talk to Vicky, whom I noted worked hard to draw others into the conversation by asking, “What is the most important issue to YOU in this election?” She and I bonded over 50 in the fifties, and especially my nude 5k in Oklahoma. She fessed up to having modeled for an art class in her college days to earn money. It was only after she said yes that it dawned on her that clothes were not part of the bargain!
There. I’ve come out and said it. I have been dancing around the nature of my naturist run last May, but no more. I no longer have my election to worry about. I admit it; I ran in a naked 5k in Oklahoma at a naturist resort.
I am not weird. I just knew that this race was the right challenge for me in the state of Oklahoma. I learned that no one is naked if everyone’s naked. And my mom was proved right. She always told us, “Parts is parts.” That is a truism. And I am true to myself. As are the candidates in this race. And Mitt Romney, as it turns out. We all know this is a developing story!
Ok, so, back to Bernie. On this day, he was introduced by Ohio State Senator Nina Turner. She is somethin’ else.
She strutted round the parking lot, firing up the crowd, hitting the rhythms of a preacher, “He may be 78 now, but we about to make him 46! Hello Somebody!”
“I’m feelin’ good today. I wish there was enough room here so I could run!”
The crowd swelled and yelled and chanted Bernie! Bernie! Bernie! And I turned to the three girls who had driven up from Texas and I said, “There’s something happening here.”
They were too young to know the reference, but under my breath, I said to myself, “What it is ain’t exactly clear…”
You say you want a revolution? Bernie is your man, but it’s not about him, or up to him. It’s up to US. Who is us? His predominately young army of supporters. They are untroubled by his age. They are still in the invincible phase of life. He isn’t, and has had a very recent heart attack. If he is the nominee, and he very well may be, he needs a young, strong VP. He will never pick Steyer (another billionaire), but there is some symmetry there. Warren? But she is 70… And that’s two east coast liberals. Oh, this is so hard! And I wander…
Bernie is cranky and committed, smiles rarely. He delivers his stump speech in a gruff monotone. He promises so much. He wants to overthrow it all. A huge piece of the economy- the health care industry everyone loves to hate. It won’t go without a fight. Free college, free child care, expanded Medicare for all, with dental and vision and hearing and long term care. College debt erased. I don’t see this happening in my lifetime. But he has the best ground game here, the most fervent supporters. After the speech and the coveted handshake, I was asked three times if I was heading out to knock doors for Bernie.
In a perfect world, I think I am in favor of a Bernie world. It would be a more perfect union. But this world is imperfect, and we are not creating a system from scratch. I do agree that the super rich and the corporations who are not paying their share of the taxes should pay more. How can Amazon pay nothing? All the other Democratic candidates agree on this as well.
Here’s the thing. As I let the event wash over me, a strange and uncomfortable sensation welled up in my chest and belly, and it persisted for a good long time after he spoke. Was it excitement, anxiety, or the fight or flight response?
I knew in my gut that he was going to win. But I wasn’t sure if that sat well with me. I felt like I was in the front row of a megachurch, or ensnared in a cult… The vicious online attacks I have seen from Bernie supporters against anyone who would disagree or dare to support another candidate scare me. I want no part of that, but they make me fear that we will end up with Trump for another 4 years if I (we) don’t get in line. Would we be exchanging one coersive, caustic president and group of supporters for another? On the other hand, is he the One who can defeat Trump? Is there only one One? I am more worried about Bernie’s Bros than the man himself.
The difference, Bernie would say, is that Trump rallies for Trump and Bernie rallies for and with us. I’m just sayin’ it feels weird. If this is Feeling the Bern, it feels like heartburn.
Update: Bernie Sanders has had to distance himself from some of the things Nina Turner has said about other candidates. He needs to be careful that his surrogates do not become the story… This is why he makes me nervous.
Bernie won the Iowa popular vote, Pete has two more delegates. I don’t understand the math. I don’t think anyone does. It is a statistical tie. Bernie and Pete are neck and neck. Some delegates were awarded by coin toss. Think about that…
Based on what I’ve seen here this weekend, there is no other candidate that compels an emotional response. if it is going to take passion to win this election, Bernie is the one.
No time to sit and think, or sit and feel the Bern. Gotta fly. Tom Steyer is next up.
Tom Steyer is not going to be our next president. His mom was a preschool teacher in New York City, his dad, first generation college. His grandfather was a plumber. Tom is a self-made billionaire who has pledged to give away the bulk of his fortune. He and his wife have a regenerative agriculture farm in California. He would work to put together coalitions to fight back against corporate power, and has already been successful on that front, helping to stop the Keystone pipeline and other projects. He has never lost a fight against a corporation. Looks likely he will lose this fight (race is a nicer way to put it) against his fellow Democrats.
Tom has come out in favor of reparations for slavery. His overarching theme is environmental justice, which is a combination of fighting climate change and recognizing that the bulk of the ill effects of our lack of care for the Earth fall on people of color and those at the bottom rung of the economic ladder. He supports term limits and the establishment of a formal commission on race to both attack economic inequality and recognize the profound positive effect Black and Native Americans have had on the moral fiber of our nation.
Trump is running on the economy. He wants to attack Trump on the same economy and demonstrate that the stock market is not the economy, stupid.
Personable, smart, a can-do guy. Tom differs from Amy and Pete in that he doesn’t think we can sway any moderate Republicans. He doesn’t think there are any. He says we can’t work with the current crop of Republican senators, so we have to win this election at all levels. At the New Hampshire debate, Tom kept stressing that everyone on the stage agreed with each other on many of the issues, and the only issue that matters is winning. Right.
Tom Steyer left Iowa with no delegates. And I left Cedar Rapids, heading for a pre-Super Bowl event for Joseph P. Biden back in Des Moines.
I checked into my Air BNB and met Chuck, a retired Des Moines cop and a veteran. This photo sits just inside his front door:
It was great chatting with Chuck, who is an ardent Biden supporter. He gave me directions to the Biden event at a local middle school. My only wish is that I had encountered some Trump supporters on this trip. I was surprised, honestly. Iowa is a deeply red state. I think it would have been a good opportunity to talk. I know talk is almost impossible… but I had hopes. Someday soon, I hope we can get to an era of civility and recognition of shared values and humanity.
That’s what Joe Biden wants. His sister Valerie and lovely wife Dr. Jill Biden were in Iowa with him. He has the support of the firefighters and at least three Iowa congressional representatives and John Kerry, and Tom Vilsack, Secretary of Agriculture under Obama. All spoke of his empathy and ability to get things done, to be ready on day one for a complicated world.
Joe spoke of our need to restore a moral code in the White House. Training kindergarteners to duck and cover and zig zag in the hallways when faced with an active school shooter is morally bankrupt. He promotes hope over fear, science over fiction, unity over division, truth over lies. He is on a first name basis with all world leaders and has their respect. He want to replace Trump and eliminate Trumpism. He has the experience for the job, and he has the support of the African American community which will be crucial to winning. Iowa will not be the place to prove that.
Once again, I found myself in the right place at the right time, and I had a conversation with the candidate. I told him that I ran in NJ, and lost. He asked where, and I told him, and he said he knew Bernardsville. He was very gracious and kind. When I showed this picture to Chuck later that evening, tears welled in his eyes:
Chuck told me the picture was priceless and asked me if I knew why.
“He SEES you. He is WITH you.”
It did feel in that moment like I was the only person in the room.
Some people find the photo creepy. They weren’t there. It wasn’t creepy.
It was empathy.
My head spinning, I left the gym and called my husband to talk myself through it. This journey is second only to my march from Selma to Montgomery in 2015 in terms of personal impact from a 50 in the Fifties trip.
My heart full, I drove crosstown to Amy Klobuchar’s Super Bowl Party. Just as I walked in the door, she was finishing up her speech. She dashed by on her way to the airport.
I bellied up to the bar and after several minutes was able to flag down the bartender. I ordered a local beer for me and snagged a dark beer for a woman who had been thirsty for quite some time. Her husband bought my beer. Next, I ordered a half rack of ribs with sides. I didn’t get a chance to eat any of it, because I found myself deep in a conversation/interview with an Australian journalist named Miranda Devine. She was really psyched about 50 in the Fifties. She said I should write a book. She took my phone number. (Update: Four interviews, but I don’t think I got a single word in print. It’s ok. I am not the star of this weekend. And I could be wrong. I don’t know which Australian or Dutch paper to check…)
Meanwhile, the Super Bowl got to halftime and then beyond and we missed all the commercials, missed everything, until we looked up with two minutes to go and we saw the Chiefs come from behind to win. And then, I tried to pay for my food, but it was all free, paid for, by the Klobuchar campaign, perhaps, or by Miranda’s husband, who felt bad that I didn’t get to eat it. I tried to get him to eat it! So I tipped the bartenders twenty bucks and floated out the door.
What a Super Sunday!
Caucus Day
I left Chuck and his wife, who had flown in the day before from China and just missed the Corona virus quarantine, and headed out for coffee. I have had zero time to get to know the towns I have visited here, but I have noticed two things. One, they do not use lawn signs. I saw only a handful in five days. I suppose when you caucus with your neighbors and everyone sees how you vote, you don’t need to advertise it in advance.
Number two, there are local coffee shops here. No Starbucks! This, I love. At the first shop that day, I was asked which candidate’s coffee I wanted. They keep a tally all day, and whichever candidate’s pot gets emptied the most wins the Coffee Caucus. I chose Amy. The server said she might very well be arriving any moment! I waited, got another cup of Amy, but I think she was in Washington dealing with the impeachment of the likely Republican candidate. One customer asked for Steyer, and when he was told, “Steyer’s not viable right now. Would you like to pick another candidate?”, he politely declined. He waited until they brewed another pot of Steyer.
You might have noted that I referred to Trump as the likely Republican candidate. That’s not because I think he is going to be convicted by the Senate. It’s because there are two Republicans running against him: Tea Party leader Joe Walsh, and former Massachusetts governor Bill Weld. I could only have coffee with one of them, and I chose Governor Weld.
I thanked him for running what is surely a difficult and futile campaign. I told him I ran locally this election cycle and lost. He said he lost his first election by such a wide margin that he was told that he was through. He would never get anywhere. Then, when he ran for governor, he was “less than an asterisk” in the beginning, and he WON. The moral speaks for itself, so I won’t repeat it. I have some time to think about another local run for office. Or perhaps aiming higher, as some friends have suggested.
It took mere minutes for the Republicans to call their caucus for Donald J. Trump, the impeached incumbent. Governor Weld eventually garnered 1.5 percent. The Democratic Caucus was a whole ‘nother story.
I showed up early to observe “my” caucus at Lincoln High School, home of the Railsplitters. In the vast and domed gym, I could not find my contact. It took me more than an hour to find out why.
As the line got long, a man in a brown sweater pointed at a woman he knew and he asked her if she would check people in. It seemed they did not have enough people. She agreed and sat at the registration table. I climbed to the upper bleachers and watched the local NBC affiliate begin their coverage. I sat down with an Amy supporter on one side of the gym. She was the only person in the Amy section. She taught me that there were two precincts in the room, and her’s, 68, was very small. Across the way, 66 was bigger and would be where the action was. I saw no signs indicating that one side was 68 and the other, 66. An Amy supporter came to join her, but it turned out, he belonged in 66… It was not looking good to me.
Turns out the guy in the brown sweater had stepped up after two other people had taken sick and not showed up. He had never run a caucus before. He was also the most soft-spoken person I have ever met. As the voting in 66 got underway, he was fortunate to have a man with a loud voice volunteer to serve as secretary, then get elected by those in attendance. A woman who spoke clearly and loudly also stepped up to help. She said, “Please be patient. This is Democracy.” I could think of a few other words to describe it.
As Thomas Jefferson said in the play Hamilton, “Democracy is messy, and now is the time to stand.” All the voters in precinct 66 were directed to stand. Why? Because the volunteers who had run the check in had never delivered the count of voters who showed up to the man in the brown sweater. No one knew how many voters there were, until each section, Warren, Klobuchar, Biden, Buttegieg, Yang, Sanders, and Steyer stood up, and then sat down as they were counted. It looked like a 5th grade gym class choosing up sides for dodgeball.
Let the counting begin. The precinct captains for each candidate huddled with the man in the brown sweater and, one by one, under the sharp eyes of all, the standers were converted to sitters, one group at a time. There were 376 people in the bleachers. Some could have been observers like me, because there was no system of checks in place. We were on an honor system, which we upheld…
The results of the first tally:
Elizabeth 67 Amy 39 Joe 57 Pete 98 Yang 11 Bernie 93 Tom 13
When the Bernie captain was counting his folks, he got to the end and counted himself, and then he yelled, “92. That’s 92. Where is Dave? Dave!!!”
Dave was behind the wall on the other end of the gym. I kid you not. So then, they were 93. Talk about neighborhood politics!
Amy, Tom, and Andrew were not viable. If one voter for Joe had stayed home, he would not have been, either. Next, the captains for the 4 viables had one minute each to make their case. Then the voters had 15 minutes to realign. Meanwhile, envelopes were being passed around to collect donations for the locals Dem party because “All of this isn’t free.” I felt like it should have been, or maybe people should be paid to be there! Just kidding, but, like, crazy stuff.
Most people signed off on their cards and left. The gym had largely emptied out when I spoke to a black man who had been in the Amy group. He had signed off for Elizabeth. He said he wants honesty and integrity and that he feels if we can get that, the policies will play themselves out. I can get on board that train.
There were only 4 people of color in the room where it happened. There was one person in a motorized wheelchair. There was no one even approaching age 80, very few over 70. I think the process is too grueling for the older people or folks with disabilities. And this, on a night when the weather was good. Turnout was up in the room since 2016, folks said.
I was not shocked when I woke up the next morning to see there were still no numbers. Based on my precinct experience, it figured. One interesting tidbit from another caucus: When Joe Biden was two votes short of viability, two Warren supporters moved to Joe in the first round to enable him to go forward. Wow.
At the airport, I met up with my new friend Steve from Summit and a photographer from NBC and some Pete supporters who all said their caucuses went smoothly and that there was a wristband system to identify voters who had checked in. So the problems I observed were not universal. But I am sure they occurred elsewhere, especially since, as I now finish my report on Sunday the 10th, there are still inconsistencies.
As I waited, as I always do, for Group 4 to board, I noticed a tall and distinguished looking man making his way onto the plane in Group 2. It was Governor William Weld, quietly making his way to the ramp, anonymous.
There may never be another Iowa caucus. I hope there won’t. I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything… except a president I can respect. Any of the candidates I heard, saw, met would fill the bill.
The candidates are on to New Hampshire. I am headed home, to Bernardsville and someone who missed me terribly:
