Sitting in the dark basement of a South Side Chicago church four years ago today, I learned Barack Obama should be president. I didn't know if he
would be president, but he sure earned my respect and admiration.
I was a relatively green reporter sent to cover a stupid photo-op: recently elected US Sen. Barack Obama was going to church in a rough part of Chicago to hand out turkeys to the homeless and struggling families there. It was supposed to be a quick piece, with a couple photos of the Senator-to-be.
I waited in the cold church parking lot with some families, some who were eager to meet Obama, others who couldn't care less.
Finally, Obama's SUV pulled into the lot. He got out, shook a few hands and made his way up to the folding table where an assembly line of turkey deliveries was already in place. He slid in seamlessly and scooped heavy turkeys off the table and plopped them in the parka-ed hands or rusty shopping carts of people waiting for them.
Like any good politician, he smiled for my photog, shook a few hands and backed out of the turkey line after about 15 minutes. He had done his part. He could go home to his family or off to another photo-op now.
But then something happened.
Instead of heading back to his SUV, he ducked inside the church, flanked only by a staffer or two. I followed him in at a distance, but he didn't notice me. He walked into a cramped basement room where many of the families were trying to warm up before their walk home. Again, I followed him unnoticed and slid into a quiet corner of the room.
Obama went around and shook a few hands. Then he pulled up a chair and sat down in the middle of these families. "What can I do to help you guys when I go to DC?" he asked. The room grew quiet for a second. Then a young mother piped up. "Can you do something about the cost of rent? I can barely afford to stay in my apartment." More requests poured from the crowd. "My heating bill is killing me." "I can't find a job anywhere around here." "Can you stop all these kids from getting shot and killed every day?"
Obama sat and listened for about a half-hour. He asked these folks questions about their lives and asked their advice on what his priorities should be. He not only gave them the dignity of hearing their stories, but also the respect of hearing their ideas.
These were not big-money bundlers. They were not Ward Bosses or union leaders. Many probably weren't even registered to vote. But he listened to them. He engaged with them. He valued them as he would want to be valued.
During my time volunteering for the campaign, I got asked a lot, "Why Barack?" Why? Because four years and 63 million votes later, President-elect Barack Obama today headed back to another cold South Side church parking lot to hand out turkeys to needy families. I just hope he remembers that dark church basement four years ago as well as I do.