A journal by Susan Hanes of our experiences attending the Iowa Caucasus in Davenport and Iowa City from Janauary 30-31, 2016. Photos by Susan Hanes
January 30-31, 2016 The Iowa Caucus is an electoral event in which residents of the U.S. state of Iowa meet in precinct caucuses in
all of Iowa's 1,681 precincts and elect delegates to the corresponding conventions in each of the state's 99 counties.
When, on a whim, Jake and I decided to drive to Iowa on the weekend before the 2016 caucus, we did not go from any particular political motivation, but rather to see what was happening in this widely televised—and nationalized—kick off to the presidential race. After almost 1,500 rallies in all 99 counties, 60,000 TV ads, and endless polls, Donald Trump and Ted Cruz have surfaced as the two most divisive candidates in the field. Both men embrace the ideological fringes of the Republican Party, amplifying a grass-roots rebellion against establishment politicians. For this reason, we decided to attend rallies for them both. Besides, there was something of an entertainment factor in our choosing to see them in person.
We left Chicago at 8:45 on Saturday morning, driving west on I-55. We crossed the Mississippi River and arrived in Davenport, Iowa just before noon. Our room at the historic Blackhawk Hotel was not ready for us, so we left our bags at the registration desk. As we headed out for lunch, we noticed a fellow at the hotel bar, wearing mirrored sunglasses and a black cowboy hat emblazoned with “2016 TRUMP: Make American Great Again.� He seemed pleased to pose for a photo; I believe that he was waiting for just such a request.
A few blocks away, we had a late lunch of sandwiches and local beer at the Barrel House. At 3:00 we were able to check into our room at the Blackhawk.
After settling in, we wandered next door to the Adler Theater where Trump was scheduled to appear at 6:30 PM. There were already satellite trucks parked out front: one from CNN Chicago and another from a company out of Indianapolis. We saw a large fellow with a crew cut waiting out front, holding a homemade sign that read, “Help us Mr. Trump your’e [sic] our only hope” under a cut-out of Princess Leia and R2-D2. He looked like one of the Star Wars convention attendees parodied on SNL. When I asked him if I could take his picture, he was quite concerned that I wanted to literally take his poster until I pointed to my camera. He then rushed off and we found him a few minutes later appropriating the first place in line. The cowboy hat man was standing near him, and offered to get me in by having me pose as his mother. This was no compliment, as he was no younger than I.
By 3:15 there were around 25 people queued up and we decided that we might as well get in line ourselves. We were glad that we did, as people quickly began to show up, spilling down the stairs of the River Center and heading out the door and down the street. The crowd seemed to be composed of sturdy Midwestern white folks. We saw one black family and a number of students; quite a few people sported Trump’s signature red “Make America Great Again” caps. A man down the line was wearing a “Veterans for Trump” button and had binoculars hanging by a cord around his neck. When a group of women walked past the two men behind us, one of them turned to the other, snickering, “When they’re young, a little heft is OK but when they get old, hoo-boy!” And then, “Are we being sexist? I guess so!” We also overheard him comment that Hillary had stayed in the Blackhawk Hotel last night. “I guess they get a lot of presidents,” his comrade replied. “Yeah, I hope they fumigated the room!”
At 4:30, the doors opened and we were escorted through a comprehensive TSA airport-type screening. Every purse and backpack was opened and examined and each person was sent through a metal detector. Men in black suits wearing radio earpieces were stationed everywhere. We made our way into the theater and were pleased to find seats on the fourth row, immediately behind those reserved for volunteers, with perfect sightlines for photos. We learned that the couple seated next to us were from Moline, just across the border in Illinois; they were there to see their hero, as they would not be taking part in the caucus. A little woman a few seats down kept exclaiming, “I’m so excited! I’m so excited!”
On the stage, two seats were placed facing each other, a row of flags standing behind them. At the back of the theater, a large platform was set up for an impressive array of cameras, sound equipment, and media personalities. We were quick to notice the distinct odor of smoker’s breath that permeated the atmosphere of the theater. About forty minutes before game time, the jazzy elevator music that was playing changed to Elton John, the Rolling Stones, and Adele (who, we learned later, planned to sue Trump for using her music). The theater seats 2,400, and by the time the proceedings got underway, it looked to us that the event was pretty near capacity.
We enjoyed watching a line of people posing for photos in front of the stage, holding signs and other Trump paraphernalia. I noticed one fellow in particular, who put his arm around everyone he could reach. After he came up to banter with the couple next to us, I asked them if he was a local celebrity personality. The woman answered, “I don’t know about the celebrity, but he is definitely a local personality.� She told me that his name is John Fitzgerald Bradley; I looked him up on Facebook and agreed with her assessment.
The evening’s program was a set up as a conversation, with Trump being interviewed by Jerry Falwell, Jr., President of Liberty University in Lynchburg, VA and son of the famous televangelist. After an enthusiastic warm-up speech by Trump Iowa Co-Chair and finalist from The Apprentice, Tana Goertz, Jerry Falwell came out to appreciative applause. Although the crowd was enthusiastic, it was not as raucous as we were expecting. Falwell spoke ecstatically about Trump for a few minutes before the man himself appeared. The interview lasted about 30 minutes. Trump’s main points were to build a wall between the US and Mexico, destroy ISIS, and make America great again. When he asked the crowd who would pay for the wall, the crowd roared on cue, “Mexico!” Jake and I were impressed by the cheers that accompanied each of Trump’s promises. On multiple occasions, Trump and Falwell extolled the concealed carrying of weapons, a point we particularly noted since we had undergone such a thorough search before being allowed to enter the rally.
Donald J. Trump
Trump drew thunderous applause when he presented a giant check for $10,000 to Puppy Jake, a foundation that trains dogs for veterans with PTSD, money he said he raised during the fundraiser he held while skipping the Fox News Republican debate last week.
It was over by 8:00 and we filed out with the crowd, crossing the street to the Duck Bistro, where we had dinner reservations. As soon as we entered, our coats were taken and we were given a somewhat ostentatious overview of the evening’s dinner specials that were plated and displayed under glass. However, our table was cozy and the atmosphere in the bistro was pleasantly lively, due in good part to the energy generated at caucus time. We over-ordered, as we often do, and were too stuffed to even consider dessert. Our waitress told us that Bill and Hillary Clinton had eaten there the night before, and that Donald Trump had been a guest on several previous occasions. It is obviously the place to eat in Davenport.
We shared a nightcap at the Blackhawk’s Bix Bar (named after Leon Bismark "Bix" Beiderbecke, the iconic American cornetist and composer who was from Davenport) before heading upstairs. I tried the Cody Road Rye, locally distilled by the Mississippi River Distilling Company in nearby LeClaire.
Back in our room, I saw a stack of books on a shelf and as I randomly leafed through them, I happened to open this 1999 book by Deborah Tannen to a chapter on civility. Perhaps it was something of a portent of things to come.
In the morning, we checked out and drove 55 miles further west to Iowa City, arriving just after 10:30 am. We had breakfast at the politically-connected Hamburg Inn No. 2, a family-owned diner that opened at its present location in 1948. Jake dropped me off so that I could get in line. When I walked in the door, a friendly old man seated on the “waiting bench” greeted me with, “Welcome to the People’s Republic of Iowa City!” The diner has earned a reputation as a regular stop for presidential candidates over the years during the Iowa Caucus season, welcoming such candidates as Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, and Barack Obama, among others. The restaurant conducts a coffee-bean caucus, in which each diner is given a coffee bean to place in the jar of his/her candidate. We noted that Bernie Sanders’s jar was filled to the top and there was a second one that was already half-full. We each ordered the massive Iowa Breakfast and topped it off by sharing their famous Pie Red-Velvet Shake. Needless to say, that was our meal for the day.
From there, we drove out to the Johnson County Fair Grounds, where we had tickets to see Ted Cruz at 1:30 pm. Parking out in the muddy field, we made our way through the icy muck, trying to keep our shoes from being sucked off our feet. The event was held in Building C, and by the time we got to the outer door, a good hour before the event, the ante-room was packed. We waited about 40 minutes before we were ushered into the main hall.
We once again found seats close to the stage, with an excellent sight line. This time, there were no security checks at all. I thought that the crowd seemed younger than it had at Trump’s event, and again, it was almost exclusively white. People were wearing Cruz teeshirts and caps, and I noted that the man in front of me had on a shirt that said “#BlueLivesMatter,” a partisan response to the #BlackLivesMatter movement.
A young woman sat down in the empty seat next to me, and I was intrigued to learn that she was an Israeli journalist. Tal Schneider was in the US for two weeks, covering the Iowa and New Hampshire Caucuses for her blog and freelance postings for Haaretz and Maariv. We both noticed that the music piped over the loud speakers was all country, and as Tal pointed out, appealing to the young crowd there.
The afternoon began with emotional presentations by alt-right Iowa Congressman Steve King; Ted’s father, Rafael Cruz; conservative political commentator Glenn Beck; Cruz’s wife, Heidi; and Phil Robertson, star of TV’s Duck Dynasty and his nephew, Zach Dasher.
Beck explained that Cruz understands how to right the “wrongs� of the past eight years by holding true to the U.S. Constitution, saying that we only need to return to the principles laid out by James Madison and Thomas Jefferson.
After green plastic Duck Commander duck calls were distributed to the crowd (we got one!), Phil Robertson, decked out in camouflage and his signature ZZ Top beard, exhorted the crowd to save our country from the “depravity and perversion” of gay marriage. “We have to rid the earth of them. Get them out of here. Ted Cruz loves God!”
At last Ted Cruz himself appeared and the crowd went wild, waving their signs and pumping their arms. Someone shouted out, “Jesus loves you, Ted!” to which Cruz answered, “Amen!” Thanking Robertson for his support, Cruz said of him, “What a joyful, cheerful, unapologetic voice of truth Phil Robertson is.”
Ted Cruz
Cruz went on to list the things he would do as soon as he was elected President of the United States. “We will bring America back by tearing up the Iran Deal, canceling all of Obama’s executive actions, defeating radical Islamic terrorism, and moving the capital of Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem.” By 3:15, it was over. We carefully made our way through the mud back to the car, exhausted. Our Israeli friend had slipped out early.
As we drove back to Chicago, we discussed all we had seen and heard. We noted how both Trump and Cruz have generated inordinate publicity and controversy, creating an interest in the caucuses unlike any in recent memory. We had traveled to Iowa to experience the environment of this remarkable campaign cycle, and we came home, marveling—and concerned— at all we had witnessed in two short days.
A journal kept by Susan Hanes of his experiences attending the Iowa Caucasus 2016 in Davenport and Iowa City from January 30-31, 2016. Photos by Susan Hanes