alternatehistory.com
Hart Makes an Announcement
April 13th, 1987
Gary Hart stood at a podium very similar to the one he had been behind that fateful day in January, appearing calm on the inside but shaking on the inside. Instead of the friendly faces he had made his speech to in North Carolina less than three months ago (had it only been three months? He thought internally), he was surrounded by the press - hungry and circling as if they sensed blood in the water.
Looking upon the crowd an hour before the speech was set to commence, Hart had quipped to his daughter, Andrea,
“You know why they call it a press pool, honey?” Andrea returned the comment with a sideways glance.
“Why’s that, Dad?” Hart chuckled to himself before calmly stating,
“Because piranhas can’t live out of water.” He thought the joke was clever, but of course she did not. Despite that, she smiled the biggest and brightest she had in a long time.
“It’s good to hear you joking again, Dad.” With that, he gave her a hug and turned to head to his study, where his team had set up for last-minute speech editing.
“And Dad,” Andrea said, causing Hart to turn around, “don’t worry. Mom would’ve wanted you to do this.” Hart smiled and nodded, choking back tears.
As he turned to walk down the hall, a single tear streamed down his face, and yet he was smiling.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One Hour Earlier
There was still hours until Hart was set to go on, and yet Jesse Jackson was already parked in front of a television at the home of his campaign manager, Gerald Austin.
“Relax,” he was saying, “it’ll be fine.” But Jackson wasn’t listening.
Jackson was at heart a pragmatist when it came to his campaigns, regardless of his idealistic nature when it came to policy. He knew that his chances would grow significantly if Hart were to sit out this cycle. He would never wish something so horrible to happen to a husband and a father, but Jackson couldn’t deny the benefits that could occur if Hart were to choose to stay out of the race.
“You said you had an inside man?” Jackson asked, knowing the answer as he had asked the same question about ten times in the last hour.
“Yeah,” Austin started, slight annoyance in his tone, “he’s at the scene. There’s no word yet - as soon as I know you’ll know.”
Jackson had been running scenarios through his head since poor Lee Hart, bless her soul, had passed on. He knew that Hart, even a maimed version of himself, would be hard to beat, especially with other candidates taking percentage points here and there.
If Hart were to sit out, however, Jackson could see a way to victory. Avoid any major gaffes, stick to his guns on labor, and he could see himself defeating any number of candidates. Dukakis could be a problem, but Jackson was confident he could handle the “Massachusetts Miracle”.
“Whatever this speech is, it’s big,” Austin announced, snapping Jackson out of thought, “they’re packing everybody up and moving them out to some spot in front of the mountains.”
“Well, one thing can be said for Mr. Hart,” Jackson deadpanned, “he sure knows how to put on a show.”
“Sir? What happens if, and I say if, Hart were to enter the race?” Jackson pondered it for a minute and stated with determination,
“Then I’m just going to have to beat Gary Hart.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3:07 PM
The word had gone over the assembled crowd - it was time.
Time slowed down as Gary Hart thought about all that had happened in the last few months. Losing Lee on that terrible day in January, thinking about leaving the public eye for good, and then that dream. It was a lifetime of experiences that had been crammed into less than 90 days.
Is this really what I want? He thought to himself. The minute this thought crossed his mind, however, he spotted his daughter in the front row, smiling up to him. I have to do this.
“My son John, my daughter Andrea, and in absentia, my wife Lee, want to thank all of you for making the trip out here and welcome you to Colorado. We originally hoped to make this statement down at our house, but it turned out our yard wasn’t large enough, and so we had to haul all of you here - we very much appreciate your being here.
“We wanted you to come here not only because the spot is near our home, but because it represents the beauty of this state and this region. In many ways these mountains behind me represent what the last few months have been like for myself, and my entire family. Now, clearly my children and I've never had a tougher two and a half months, but I'm not a beaten man; I'm an angry and defiant man. I've said that I bend but I don't break. And believe me, I'm not broken. This decision was a tough one to make - just like the mountains standing before you, it was a treacherous and slow climb to come to this decision. However, just as climbers after years and years of attempts finally reach the summit, I have reached a decision regarding my electoral future.
I intend to be a candidate for the Presidency…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3:08 PM
...Of the United States of America in 1988.”
The room in the Massachusetts Governor’s Mansion where Michael Dukakis, and his wife Kitty, along with a few top aides were watching the speech on live television had grown completely silent.
Dukakis stared at the television for another ten seconds, then shook his head. He didn’t appear angry or sad, just shocked.
“Well, looks like we’re having a press conference after all.” He announced aloud with a shockingly small amount of emotion. A few of his aides had hope on their faces, at least for the moment.
“You’re in?” Kitty asked, shocked at her husband’s change of heart.
“No,” Dukakis said blandly, “I’m going to have to make an endorsement.”
Gary Hart stood at a podium very similar to the one he had been behind that fateful day in January, appearing calm on the inside but shaking on the inside. Instead of the friendly faces he had made his speech to in North Carolina less than three months ago (had it only been three months? He thought internally), he was surrounded by the press - hungry and circling as if they sensed blood in the water.
Looking upon the crowd an hour before the speech was set to commence, Hart had quipped to his daughter, Andrea,
“You know why they call it a press pool, honey?” Andrea returned the comment with a sideways glance.
“Why’s that, Dad?” Hart chuckled to himself before calmly stating,
“Because piranhas can’t live out of water.” He thought the joke was clever, but of course she did not. Despite that, she smiled the biggest and brightest she had in a long time.
“It’s good to hear you joking again, Dad.” With that, he gave her a hug and turned to head to his study, where his team had set up for last-minute speech editing.
“And Dad,” Andrea said, causing Hart to turn around, “don’t worry. Mom would’ve wanted you to do this.” Hart smiled and nodded, choking back tears.
As he turned to walk down the hall, a single tear streamed down his face, and yet he was smiling.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One Hour Earlier
There was still hours until Hart was set to go on, and yet Jesse Jackson was already parked in front of a television at the home of his campaign manager, Gerald Austin.
“Relax,” he was saying, “it’ll be fine.” But Jackson wasn’t listening.
Jackson was at heart a pragmatist when it came to his campaigns, regardless of his idealistic nature when it came to policy. He knew that his chances would grow significantly if Hart were to sit out this cycle. He would never wish something so horrible to happen to a husband and a father, but Jackson couldn’t deny the benefits that could occur if Hart were to choose to stay out of the race.
“You said you had an inside man?” Jackson asked, knowing the answer as he had asked the same question about ten times in the last hour.
“Yeah,” Austin started, slight annoyance in his tone, “he’s at the scene. There’s no word yet - as soon as I know you’ll know.”
Jackson had been running scenarios through his head since poor Lee Hart, bless her soul, had passed on. He knew that Hart, even a maimed version of himself, would be hard to beat, especially with other candidates taking percentage points here and there.
If Hart were to sit out, however, Jackson could see a way to victory. Avoid any major gaffes, stick to his guns on labor, and he could see himself defeating any number of candidates. Dukakis could be a problem, but Jackson was confident he could handle the “Massachusetts Miracle”.
“Whatever this speech is, it’s big,” Austin announced, snapping Jackson out of thought, “they’re packing everybody up and moving them out to some spot in front of the mountains.”
“Well, one thing can be said for Mr. Hart,” Jackson deadpanned, “he sure knows how to put on a show.”
“Sir? What happens if, and I say if, Hart were to enter the race?” Jackson pondered it for a minute and stated with determination,
“Then I’m just going to have to beat Gary Hart.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3:07 PM
The word had gone over the assembled crowd - it was time.
Time slowed down as Gary Hart thought about all that had happened in the last few months. Losing Lee on that terrible day in January, thinking about leaving the public eye for good, and then that dream. It was a lifetime of experiences that had been crammed into less than 90 days.
Is this really what I want? He thought to himself. The minute this thought crossed his mind, however, he spotted his daughter in the front row, smiling up to him. I have to do this.
“My son John, my daughter Andrea, and in absentia, my wife Lee, want to thank all of you for making the trip out here and welcome you to Colorado. We originally hoped to make this statement down at our house, but it turned out our yard wasn’t large enough, and so we had to haul all of you here - we very much appreciate your being here.
“We wanted you to come here not only because the spot is near our home, but because it represents the beauty of this state and this region. In many ways these mountains behind me represent what the last few months have been like for myself, and my entire family. Now, clearly my children and I've never had a tougher two and a half months, but I'm not a beaten man; I'm an angry and defiant man. I've said that I bend but I don't break. And believe me, I'm not broken. This decision was a tough one to make - just like the mountains standing before you, it was a treacherous and slow climb to come to this decision. However, just as climbers after years and years of attempts finally reach the summit, I have reached a decision regarding my electoral future.
I intend to be a candidate for the Presidency…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3:08 PM
...Of the United States of America in 1988.”
The room in the Massachusetts Governor’s Mansion where Michael Dukakis, and his wife Kitty, along with a few top aides were watching the speech on live television had grown completely silent.
Dukakis stared at the television for another ten seconds, then shook his head. He didn’t appear angry or sad, just shocked.
“Well, looks like we’re having a press conference after all.” He announced aloud with a shockingly small amount of emotion. A few of his aides had hope on their faces, at least for the moment.
“You’re in?” Kitty asked, shocked at her husband’s change of heart.
“No,” Dukakis said blandly, “I’m going to have to make an endorsement.”
- Gentleman Biaggi
- Word Count: 1k