Bernie is My Super Hero
words and photos by Randy Leavitt
Last night, as dusk approached, I walked down Church Street
in Burlington, Vermont, toward the Flynn Theater where Donald Trump was holding
a campaign rally, and where I expected a to find a large crowd of protesters. I was not disappointed. I was wearing my excellent Superman costume
and carrying a sign that said, “Bernie is my Super Hero.”
By the time I got halfway down Church Street,
I already had people laughing at the costume and giving me high fives and
asking to take my picture. As I neared
the City Park an elderly woman approached and asked me if I was going to the
rally and if she could join me. Then, as
we walked, she explained she was a Muslim and she was afraid to go to the rally
alone, but she said she couldn’t stay home either. She told me about recent harassment she has
encountered and said she just wanted to live her life, like anyone else
would.
I think, all kidding aside, she
felt safe with me -- with Superman. It is a
funny costume, and, really, as powerful a figure as Superman is, in real life,
with me wearing his suit with the plastic muscles and the bold primary colored
tights and underwear worn on the outside… I can be quite charming -- and
disarming.
So, she joined me and we entered the park together to find a
small but growing crowd. Main Street was closed; barricades were set up to
keep people off the street. On the far
side of the street, in front of the Flynn theater, more barricades were set up,
these to funnel those waiting in line who wanted to hear Trump speak -- or to
protest him and his message -- into the theater.
The people in the Trump line itself, those still eager to
enter what must have been a nearly full building, stretched around the corner
from the Flynn Theater away from the lights and the sounds of Main Street for
at least two blocks to where it disappeared into the darkness. I
tried to get a better view of how far the line stretched, but as I approached
the line I could feel the anger rising from the people along with the steam
from their breath in the cold.
I heard
later that Trump told the crowd inside that there were 20,000 of his supporters
waiting outside. A lie. I think it was more like 1,000 and just as
many Bernie supporters in the city park across the street. I spent nearly all my time mingling with the
crowd in the park. I must have had a
hundred great conversations; I was interviewed by five different news
organizations including Al Jazeera, Seven Days and the New York Times.
I had my picture taken so many times I can’t even
say. Sometimes there were ten or more
people taking my picture at once. I
posed with kids and men and women and groups and with a man in a clown suit whose
sign said, “It's not funny,” which was funny.
I had a great time all night, and I was so glad to have been
there. My message was clear but
delivered with a lightheartedness that is, again, disarming. For me, at least, this method works well, and
I have found using humor is a good way to move though the world.
Somewhere, early on in the evening, I lost my new Muslim
friend. Last I saw her she was enjoying
the fair-like atmosphere in the park. People were handing out candles, there
were fun signs and t-shirts for sale. A pizza place around the corner was
handing out free pizza, and a woman gave us some snacks for free because she
said it was cold out and she needed to do something. There were just lots of very nice, interesting,
outgoing people.
I talked to a man who
was a 'Nam vet who was homeless until Bernie became mayor of Burlington, and he
said Bernie changed his life. I talked
to some women who stood in the Trump line and had entered the theater but were
forced out when it became clear they were Bernie supporters. For me being there with all these people was
invigorating, and it did a lot to restore my hope.
Three times
during the night, while the line of people waited to see if they could get in
to hear Trump speak, even though the Flynn was already full, I approached the
line to have a better look. It felt
truly dismal. In the relative darkness
down that street, it looked like a depression era lineup of hungry people
looking for work at a slaughterhouse. Their superhero, Trump, had abandoned them, allowing the ticket agents to give out
ten-times more tickets than the Flynn has seats. They were on their own. Some had waited all day. They couldn’t get in and there was nothing
for them outside. No community -- just abandoned.
There was little color in the line -- okay due to
the darkness perhaps, but it felt colorless and drab even more than it looked. Each time I approached the
line, in my funny super-suit, I was assaulted with angry words. I was called a
moron, a f*cking a**hole, a dipsh*t, a traitor and a queer. It was astonishing.
Debilitating even. There were children in the line as well holding signs, the
poor things. But what I didn’t feel or see in the Trump line was
happiness. None.
I overheard many conversations, and they were
all angry and filled with hate -- every one of them. Take this with as much salt as you require, for
I am a Bernie supporter and always have been, but each time I returned from
that cold place where the Trump supporters waited down the block, I felt like I
was leaving a cold, dark, cave, and returning to something warmer, brighter,
safer, more creative, happier, more joyful really.
When I came around the corner, the music in
the park and cheerfulness of all those Bernie supporters chanting against Trump
and his hateful message moved me. It was
rhythmic and soothing and comforting. The whole festival was filled with fun
and engaging people who were dancing and cheering and laughing. My people.
My community. Yet, all the while,
inside the theater, hate.
What I think -- Trump can’t win. He
only has hate to draw his supporters. He hasn’t a plan or the capability to
lead. He is a complainer, a blamer. He assembles people around him who are vulnerable
and eager to blame everyone else -- anyone who is different. He is a sad and sorry
man. He left all those supporters out in
the dark and cold with not so much as a howdy-do. They eventually were told that there was no
room for them, and they disappeared into the night.
I am glad that I went to the rally, and I am glad to have met
all the people I met. And I am glad to have led the Muslim woman into the safe
place we found in the city park.
You won’t find this story on the evening news.
Bio: Randy Leavitt is Superman. Here's what he says about himself: "I am a seventh generation Vermonter, a longtime Bernie supporter, and I lived in Burlington shortly before Bernie was elected Mayor. My son went with me to the Burlington anti-Trump rally." He also states that he has two grand kids, is a veteran, a teacher, a fiddler, a home owner, a community organizer, a good person, and is 59 years old.
* * *
Congratulations, Bernie! You rocked Iowa last night!
 |
| The scene at Carol's in Sandusky, OH. We were yelling and cheering as we watched the results of the Iowa caucus on TV as well as online at Bernie2016TV. We know who the real winners were last night--us, the American people. Go Bernie! New Hampshire is yours! #NotMeUs #CaucusForBernie #ShowTheVotes |
* * *
Photos by Cindy and Adrian Matthews
This past Saturday, about 300 people showed up for a last minute "official national organization" meet-up in Toledo. It was standing room only! Will E., who is traveling throughout the Midwest for the Bernie Sanders Campaign, fired us up and got us setting up phone bank events throughout the area. Rumor has it that we may be seeing Bernie in the Buckeye State in March before our primary on the 15th. Remember, you can go to http://map.berniesanders.com and sign up for a phone bank and/or other Bernie event today!
 |
| Standing room only in a wedding hall. Awesome last minute turn out and Will says we had more people than the Columbus area meet-up. Take that C-bus! The Glass City rocks! | | |
|
|
 |
Jamie made badges and brought them to distribute to other Berners.
We raised $185 in donations to the campaign. |
 |
| Will E. from the national organization inspired us to get out and phone bank for Bernie. About 90% of the people in the hall said this was their first time volunteering in a political campaign. | | |
|
|
 |
| Dave signs up Don to a phone bank at his home, while Jordan looks on. He's hosting a phone bank at B.G.S.U. There are dozens of phone banks set up in Northwest Ohio now. The IBEW union hall and U.T. are leading the way in the Toledo area, hosting many phone banks over the next few weeks. Sign up for one or more today! |
