ARCHIVES OF LEAD STORIES
August 5, 2004
Upstart Illinois senator
a hit with delegates, newsmedia
Virgil Wright
Illinois State Sen. Barack Obama’s approach
was apparent long before he reached the luxury boxes on the fifth-floor
level of the Fleet Center.
Whispers, murmurs, and then shouts raced down the narrow corridor,
squeezed off like a hardening artery by the flow of Democratic
high-rollers.
Television lights reflected off the curving wall and then the
shoulders of cameramen came into view as they scurried backwards
like crabs along the boarded floor.
Finally, Obama himself, the self-described “skinny kid from
the South Side of Chicago with the funny name,” appeared,
bathed in video lights, as he tried, unsuccessfully, to carry
on a conversation with one of a dozen reporters flanking his lean
frame.
Conventioneers pressed against the wall to allow the media gaggle
to pass, with aides and friends and security trailing in their
wake.
In the world of politics, some say the entourage is the measure
of the man. If so, Obama has risen to the top of the game.
There were few doubters the morning after his electrifying keynote
address before the Democratic National Convention.
Obama, the son of an African goat-herder, brought the Democratic
faithful to their feet with stirring oratory that told his story,
a uniquely American story tracing his roots from Kansas and Kenya
to Hawaii and Harvard — a journey that captured the imagination
of delegates, press, and public alike.
“My father was a foreign student, born and raised in a small
village in Kenya. He grew up herding goats, went to school in
a tin-roof shack. His father, my grandfather, was a domestic servant,”
he said.
“But my grandfather had larger dreams for
his son. Through hard work and perseverance my father got a scholarship
to study in a magical place: America, which stood as a beacon
of freedom and opportunity to so many who had come before. While
studying here, my father met my mother. She was born in a town
on the other side of the world, in Kansas. Her father worked on
oil rigs and farms through most of the Depression.”
The hall grew hushed as Obama continued: “My parents shared
not only an improbable love, they shared an abiding faith in the
possibilities of this nation. They would give me an African name,
Barack, or ’blessed,’ believing that in a tolerant
American your name is no barrier to success.”
But the American dream held some challenges for Obama, who wrote
about his father’s return to Kenya early in the marriage
and his own struggle with identity in a 1995 memoir, “Dreams
From My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance.”
Raised by his maternal grandparents in Hawaii, Obama attended
Columbia University and Harvard Law School, where he was the first
black editor of the prestigious Harvard Law Review. He moved to
Chicago, where he entered politics, winning a state Senate seat
representing the Hyde Park neighborhood on the South Side —
a racially mixed district dominated by the University of Chicago,
where he lectures on law.
He and his wife Michelle, also an attorney, live in Hyde Park
with their two daughters.
Obama’s moving evocation of his American journey was the
rhetorical highlight of the four-day Democratic gathering and
his debut on the national stage.
The 42-year-old state lawmaker is poised for a nearly uncontested
election to the U.S. Senate in November.
After winning the Democratic primary with a surprising 53 percent
of the vote in a seven-candidate field, Obama expected a tough
general election battle against Republican nominee Jack Ryan,
a telegenic millionaire who had quit his job to teach in an all-black
private academy in one of the Windy City’s toughest neighborhoods.
However, Ryan’s campaign imploded when unsealed divorce
court records revealed allegations from his wife that he had asked
her to engage in public sex at swingers’ clubs in Paris
and New York.
Ryan denied the charges but withdrew from the race after intense
pressure from party leaders, who have failed to recruit anyone
to run in November. That leaves Obama facing token opposition
from independent candidates.
If elected, Obama would become the first popularly elected black
U.S. senator since Edward Brooke of Massachusetts left the chamber
in 1979.
Though he’s headed to Capitol Hill, Obama’s convention
performance left even some of the most cynical pundits predicting
a future at the other end of Pennsylvania Avenue.
Throughout his speech, Obama used his own life story to appeal
to the notion of America as “E Pluribus Unum” —
“Out of Many, One” — to draw connections between
countrymen of all colors, creeds, and classes.
“Alongside our famous individualism, there’s another
ingredient in the American saga,” said Obama.
“A belief that we are connected as one people. If there’s
a child on the South Side of Chicago who can’t read, that
matters to me, even if it’s not my child. If there’s
a senior citizen somewhere who can’t pay for her prescription
and has to choose between medicine and the rent, that makes my
life poorer, even if it’s not my grandmother.
“If there’s an Arab American family being rounded
up without benefit of an attorney or due process, that threatens
my civil liberties. It’s that fundamental belief —
I am my brother’s keeper, I am my sister’s keeper
— that makes this country work. It’s what allows us
to pursue our individual dreams, yet still come together as an
American family.”
Obama’s appeal cleaves across not only lines of color and
class but party as well.
When he came to Boston six months ago seeking campaign funds for
the primary race, he camped out in the office of prominent Republican
operative Sandy Tennant, who had met the state senator during
a business trip to Chicago.
“I absolutely believe Barack represents not only the best
in government and politics but the best in America,” said
Tennant. “Forget about whether you’re a Republican
or a Democrat, this guy is great for our country.”
Back
to Lead Story Archives
Home
Page