Last Thursday night, most pundits, journalists, and columnists were huddled around their televisions or devices, poised to opine on the long-awaited DeSantis/Newsom matchup. Having forced myself to sit through two GOP debates only to have them both end with me lowering my head in despair and wishing I had bought an extra fifth of scotch to help me weather the evening, I opted to forego the Presidential Hopeful WrestleMania. As I understand it, I didn’t miss much, and both sides declared victory. Instead, I found myself huddled on a cold sidewalk outside of a bar in Salt Lake City. The reason? Robert F. Kennedy Jr. was holding a campaign rally, and I had been given press credentials. As I am the child of ’60s activists, JFK, MLK, and RFK were practically the Holy Trinity in our house. So, it was with a mix of nostalgia and curiosity that I went out into the cold.
Volunteers patrolled the queue, clipboards in hand, asking for signatures to get RFK Jr. on the ballot in the Beehive State. They were also checking names to make sure everyone had RSVP’d. Once my name cleared the list, a volunteer took out a BIC ballpoint and wrote “RK” on the back of my hand. Hopefully, in the future, Team Kennedy will invest in some handstamps. Or at least a box of Sharpies.
Inside, the room was already abuzz. There was a bank of volunteers collecting signatures and a long line of merch tables. The hats, T-shirts, stickers, etc., were not quite flying off the shelves, but sales were brisk. By the end of the night, there were a fair number of RFK ballcaps dotting the venue, and yard signs were being passed overhead and thrust into eager hands. The music, designed to pump up the crowd, was an eclectic mashup that included, among other artists, the Bee Gees, Ozzy Osbourne, Led Zeppelin, and Creedence Clearwater Revival. One does not normally associate a Kennedy campaign with “Stayin’ Alive” or Zeppelin’s “Rock and Roll,” let alone anything by Ozzy. But it made for a fun atmosphere. Plus, the bar was open, and nothing goes better with politics than alcohol. So, I grabbed an IPA and found a spot in the corral set up to accommodate the media. It wasn’t long before the riser was crowded with reporters, laptops, cameras, mics, and power packs. I soon found myself sandwiched between correspondents from the Wall Street Journal and the New York Post.
Kennedy essentially made a name for himself with his objections to the COVID-19 vaccine, which caught the attention of some on the right. But as a former environmental lawyer who has claims to some significant victories, he appeals to a strain of people on the left. But COVID-19 was not on the topic list that evening. Kennedy focused on the issue of Big Business versus corporate America. BlackRock was a frequent target throughout the night, particularly when it came to the housing market. Companies like Monsanto also came under fire. Kennedy was vocal about people being unable to afford basic necessities. And he made no bones about the fact that the racial strife in America is a product of people in power who benefit from the conflict. He also spent time talking about the coal industry in the eastern half of the U.S. (Appalachia, in particular) and his anger over the effect that mining has had on the environment and the residents. That was about as partisan as he got. From a conservative standpoint, coal is a divisive issue. Barack Obama’s announcement that he planned to bankrupt the coal industry was the final straw that turned me from left to right all those years ago. But Kennedy’s views on coal were not met with catcalls or jeers. Even those who leaned conservative appeared ready to hear him out. And that in itself is practically heresy and anathema in this day and age.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr. at campaign rally, Nov. 30, 2023 (Lincoln Brown/The American Spectator)
When the speech concluded, the announcement was made that Kennedy would pose for a selfie with anyone who wanted one. Most of the people in attendance took him up on the offer. There was an impromptu post-game gaggle where questions were lobbed by the local network affiliates. They consisted of queries as to Kennedy’s appeal to Trump voters, why members of his family opposed his candidacy and skepticism regarding his BlackRock claims. Kennedy was pinged on his stance on Israel. And he came out in support of the Israeli people. As a freelancer, I fall on the lower end of the journalism food chain, so I didn’t get the chance to ask about his energy policy and his proposed alternatives to fossil fuels.
Kennedy’s speech was a populist appeal. The speech itself aside, what fascinated me about the event was the diversity. And yes, I just used the “D” word. Maybe the odd music selection was by choice because the crowd was a unique assortment of just about everybody.
A woman was holding a sign demanding freedom for someone. I lost her in the crowd, so I never found out who or what she was demanding freedom for. People were in suits, wearing cowboy hats, veterans’ caps, and beanies. Some were dressed for a cocktail party. Others were clad in T-shirts and sporting tattoos. Some showed up in standard-issue Gen Z or millennial gear. One young woman even graced the gates in pink hooded pajamas and bedazzled Crocs. Utah is, for the moment, still mostly white, but I saw people from all races. In terms of age, everyone from the elderly to 21-year-olds made the trip to see RFK Jr. Standing in line, I chatted with an elderly woman who, by her comments, had been a lifelong Democrat. But she was also concerned about CBDC, the cost of living, and her access to health care. I heard snatches of discussion indicating that attendees were from across the political spectrum. There were fans of Cleon Skousen and even Alex Jones and those who leaned toward CRT and NPR. It was clear that everyone was keeping their core values intact, but there were no insults, confrontations, or recriminations. No battle lines were formed, and no insults were exchanged. In fact, as I roamed the venue in search of the men’s room, I noticed that, in most cases, the banter was either neutral or even downright amiable. For the night, at least, the Sharks and Jets had called a truce.
Maybe that was because the name Kennedy can still summon a certain amount of nostalgia on the part of the old and a sense of optimism among the young. But in the age of 21st-century cynicism, I don’t think the Kennedy mystique is a factor. Well, at least not the only factor.
The attendees may have disagreed about a veritable galaxy of topics. But one point upon which they may well all agree is that things cannot continue the way they are. They represent those who are tired of being told by the media, the corporations, and the people in power what their choices and beliefs are or should be when it comes to every facet of their lives. They are tired of being told who they are based on their skin color, politics, or religion. They don’t want to be told to support a war. They don’t want to have to choose between paying the rent or eating dinner. They see their chances of buying a home disappearing on the horizon. They don’t want to pick out wallpaper patterns as their cities fall apart around them. They may be tired of trying to justify an administration whose policies have resulted in disaster at home and broad and only benefit a chosen few. They are choking on empty promises. And these people, from all along the spectrum of humanity, want someone other than Biden, Trump, or DeSantis — or even Gavin Newsom, Nikki Haley, or Michelle Obama. They all have a sense that much of their lives are no longer under their control. And they want something other than what the machine has to offer.
No matter one’s political loyalties, one can at least appreciate the fact that these people hold a distinctly American position.