Open And Closed

Dear Boo and Bubble,

Geez….I’m sorry to have been so long in writing.  I must confess that the weather here at Sugar Mountain has been so gorgeous, it continually beckons me outside.  Today is equally pleasant, but I am determined to continue the story of Captain’s political career (and, consequently his relationship with Governor Dick Riley).  I'm sure there will be enough time left to go and play.

As I told you in the previous post, because of the help of friends and supporters, Captain became the Chairman of the Cherokee County Democratic Party.  He served in that capacity from 1980 until 1983 and it did prove to be a very interesting time to be involved.  In the summer of 1982, he was elected as an alternate delegate to the National Democratic Convention representing the 5^th Congressional District in South Carolina.  The convention was in New York City in Madison Square Garden.  I cajoled my way into the proceedings by successfully getting The Gaffney Ledger, our local newspaper, to request credentials for me as a special correspondent. 

One of our close friends from Gaffney, Mary Michaels, was also elected as a delegate and the three of us spent an exciting week in New York.  President Jimmy Carter sought the party’s nomination for a second term, but Massachusetts Senator Ted Kennedy launched a last minute challenge to that effort contending that Carter’s sinking national popularity made him a weak contender against the Republican nominee, Ronald Reagan.  He began a movement to demand that Carter should release all of the delegates he had accumulated over months of precinct, county and state meetings in order to make the convention “open” and let people vote directly for the candidate of their choice. 

The stakes were very high.  Carter couldn’t afford to alienate Kennedy’s supporters for the general election, but he certainly didn’t want to risk losing the nomination (he already had enough pledged delegates to secure it) through a procedural concession.  The two camps met behind closed doors and agreed to a compromise.  Carter would allow a vote among the delegates to see if they wanted to “unbind” themselves from their pledge and put the question of the preference for the nominee to an “up or down” vote. 

Captain and Mary sat on the convention floor with the SC delegation during all of these negotiations.  Envoys from both sides lobbied for their positions, but the Southern states remained staunchly in Carter’s column.  The delegates felt that they had been elected to represent the wishes of the Democrats in their various districts and to now go and vote for another candidate would violate the trust of the folks back home. As Carter’s highest profile supporter from South Carolina, Governor Riley worked diligently to ensure that the state’s delegates voted to remain pledged to the President.

My credentials allowed me access to the printed media section located high up in the crow’s nest of the Garden.  From this high perch, I observed the activity on the convention floor.  I also had the opportunity to interact with journalists from all over the United States and several foreign countries.  Even though Captain and Mary were strong Carter supporters, I determined to be as incognito as possible, hoping to encourage conversation rather than have people avoid me because of an advertised predisposition.  This strategy meant that, for the most part, I had to keep my mouth shut because my thick Southern accent would expose me every time. 

One morning, as the issue of an “Open” convention reached fever pitch, I happened to be sitting next to a reporter from a small newspaper in Massachusetts. 

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” I answered.

He immediately became suspicious.  Needed a follow-up question.

“How are you today?”

“Fi-un, thank you.”

Suspicions confirmed.  I was from the South.  He hesitated for a minute before starting in.

“You know, don’t you, that President Carter is keeping this from being an ‘open’ convention.”

“Oh, how so?”

“Because he won’t allow the delegates to vote their consciences on the nominee.  He’s afraid he’ll lose.  This convention is totally closed!” he declared with a frump like his word was it and I was wrong – even though I hadn’t really said anything yet.

I thought about just leaving it lie, but I just couldn’t do that.  I felt duty-bound to defend Carter……the South…..myself…..certainly my intelligence against this dismissive man who had probably sized me up as a yokel. 

I looked him straight in the eye and said, “Well, in my humble opinion, the fact that the delegates are being given the opportunity to vote on whether or not to unbind themselves makes this a very ‘open’ convention.”

He stared at me for a second and sort of snorted.  We both turned away and continued to watch the activity on the floor.  In a few minutes, he got up and left. 

I know I didn’t change his mind on anything, especially not his initial opinion of me.  But, I’ve always been very proud that at least I must have left him momentarily at a loss for words. 

Ultimately, Carter's position prevailed and a majority of the delegates voted to bind themselves to the commitments made at the grass roots level.  Carter won the nomination, although he lost badly in the general election in November of that year.  Still, the whole experience for us was quite amazing…..especially that one little nugget of triumph for me.