INTRODUCTION
“I make this race because I love my country and I want America to do better and move forward.”
Hart looked out across the crowd of excited onlookers assembled at the Red Rocks amphitheater. These were his people; a collection of paid staff, volunteers, and longtime supporters of the man who was once their Senator. Most of them were the college-educated white suburbanites who made up Hart’s base. Many probably grew up in Republican households, only to leave the Grand Old Party as it grew more and more conservative. They may have been Kennedy Democrats, either the Jack or Bobby kind. A large percentage certainly didn’t grow up in Colorado. Instead, like Hart and the two men who introduced him (Denver Mayor Frederico Pena and his successor in the Senate, Tim Wirth), they were transplants who moved out west with the same sense of opportunity and excitement as the homesteaders who made the trip a century earlier. In short, this was Hart Country, or as much as it could be called that for a politician who despised the notion of traditional retail politics.
“I believe, with the assistance and support of the American people, I can help lead America toward its future and to achieve its promise, its destiny and its ideal.”
Hart knew that this was his year. This would be different than his last campaign. In 1984 he was a supernova, exploding onto the scene with his unique combination of “New Ideas” and pleasantly awkward style that reminded voters of their high school civics teacher. He launched from the back of the pack to the front by contrasting dramatically with old-school politicians like Walter Mondale and John Glenn. But it was not to be: a series of damaging stories about changing his name, lying about his age, and questions about how substantive those “Ideas” actually were (“Where’s the Beef?”) shot him down just in time to save Mondale’s candidacy from defeat. But this time, Hart was ready. After retiring from the Senate in 1986, Hart dove headfirst into fleshing out his platform by writing books, giving copious speeches, and even traveling to Europe to meet with Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev. He also got on the good side of the very insiders who had denied him the nomination four years earlier. His campaign would be led by Paul Tully and Charles Mannatt, among others. Both men were veterans of the DNC, with Mannatt leading the Committee during Reagan’s first term. Together with Hart loyalists like Bill Dixon and Billy Shore, they would work to ensure that Hart would get the support not only of his coalition of white professionals, but also the base of the Democratic Party: labor, African-Americans, and seniors with warm memories of the New Deal. So far it was working: Polls showed Hart was far and away the frontrunner, with 38% of Democrats supporting him, with Jesse Jackson in a distant second with just 9%. No one else was even close.
''Traditional politics must take second place in 1988 because we are going to select not only a leader, we are going to select a future.''
But perhaps the biggest change for Gary Hart wasn’t political or ideological. It wasn’t about fleshing out his ideas or filling out his campaign team. No, the biggest change was personal. Hart had always been a bit, well, spontaneous in his personal life. He and his wife, Lee, loved one another and their children. But Hart, like so many powerful men, sometimes found himself breaking his marital promises. Hart’s dalliances were not of the scale of other prominent Democrats like Jack Kennedy or Lyndon Johnson, but they were an issue, especially considering that the Harts had separated for a period in 1970s. But Gary Hart was determined not to let past mistakes torpedo his chances of winning the White House. He
had to win. So the “New” Gary Hart stopped making those mistakes, and for that reason, gave up the opportunity to rest and relax with lobbyist Billy Broadhust and two young women in March of 1987, instead choosing to spend the weekend in Colorado. Because if that was what it took to win, Gary Hart was going to do it.