Hillary and Hellos

I learned a long time ago that when you speak with famous people, the last thing they want to hear about is what brought them their fame. Chris Farley perfectly demonstrated this truth in one of his recurring Saturday Night Live skits. He met with celebrities, recalled one of their most publicized moments, and then said, “Remember that?! (pause) That was awesome!” Farley nodded gleefully and childishly, the guest shifted uncomfortably and muttered “thanks,” and then Farley stammered and moved on to the next awesome moment.

So it was when Hillary Clinton came to town.

When Hillary visited a picturesque state park in Horsham, PA, on the border between Bucks County and Montgomery County, I was lucky enough to be able to deliver the field pitch to the crowd—to impress upon them the importance of volunteering on Election Day weekend to make sure our supporters get out to the polls. Then, after addressing the crowd, I had the opportunity to step backstage and join in the “clutch,” which is when the VIP for the event shakes hands with people who are involved or invited. I hadn’t suspected that I would be a part of this, so I hadn’t prepared any questions or comments for the occasion. I searched for what I thought would be most important.

Context: The region of Bucks County for which I was responsible went to Hillary in the primaries by a four-to-one ratio. The Clintons had visited Bristol several times, and most recently they had shut down the main street of Bristol Borough to hold what really amounted to a massive block party. As a result, there was incredible loyalty to the Clintons, and because of this, despite an overwhelmingly Democratic population in Lower Bucks, support for Senator Obama in the months leading up to the election was not nearly so strong. Voters in Bristol had a personal, emotional attachment to the Clintons. Reason had little persuasive effect early on. For the people of Lower Bucks County, it would take a visit by Hillary or Bill to push them towards Obama. This was undoubtedly why she had come.

I held this in mind as I approached the clutch. I thought about what mattered most to the struggling working class voters that I engaged every day. I thought about their investment in Hillary, their dashed hopes that a woman would step into the Oval Office as president, their sense of having the nomination taken away from her, their affinity for this family that had brought prosperity in the 1990s.

And so when Hillary turned, smiled, and shook my hand, I said,

“Thank you for coming here. It means so much to the people here.”

It sounded cheesy coming out, but it was the most genuine statement I could make on behalf of the people I was working with.

Hillary replied, with the same smile, “Thanks! Are you having a good time?!”

I recalibrated.

“Yeah!” I pointed to the orange and red trees, the blue sky, the barn and the lake. “Are you kidding? This weather and this setting? It’s beautiful here!”

We shared a few more meaningless words, and then she turned to the next person.

I shrugged, put my hands in my pockets, watched for a little bit, trying to pick out who the other visiting guests and VIPs were, and then walked back to the stage.