Howard Dean is hunched down in the passenger seat of his white minivan, talking on his cell phone. It's 11:15 a.m. on a Monday morning in Baltimore and the Democratic presidential candidate is waiting to come out to a small rally organized for his one and only campaign stop in Charm City. Approximately 200 supporters have been trickling in since 10:15 a.m. on this foggy morning, carrying royal blue signs and homemade banners. "IN BAWLMER, WE BLIEVE IN DEAN," [sic] one sign reads.
Here in Baltimore, like in the rest of America, Dean is running on a slogan of "Take our country back" and recent polls suggest strong support for the former governor from Vermont in the Democratic primary race. While the crowd stands in a quiet huddle, a news ticker on a nearby building flashes: "Dean leads 44 percent to Kerry 23 percent in New Hampshire Poll." As one of nine candidates vying for the democratic presidential nomination in March, Dean has recently drawn national attention for his grassroots campaigning method and his decision to reject the federal government's $19 million in matching campaign funds.
Complete with a J-Card hanging on a lanyard on the back of his neck, Hopkins sophomore Ryan Carroll is standing in the front row of the small gathering. Carroll, who ran the four miles from Charles Street to Lafayette, dismissed the trek as "exercise" and said that he came out as part of a mission to "get a handle for the candidates."
"He's a short guy like me -- I kinda like that," explained Carroll.
While Carroll is not alone among a showing of college students, the crowd consists of mainly older, white supporters. In a city plagued by unemployment, a persistent drug epidemic and racial tensions, both Dean and fellow Democratic candidate Dennis Kucinich are speaking in Baltimore this week.
"I think I'm the only black man down here," said Sylvester Givens, Jr. Givens, recently unemployed from his welding position at a Baltimore Air Coil Company, said that like many here today, he came out for Dean because of his concerns for healthcare and jobs in the 2004 election. "My wife is anorexic and she's on Salexha and Vicatin that we have to get online from Canada," Givens, Jr. said.
While Dean is still rebounding from his statement that he wants to appeal to "guys with confederate flags in their pickup trucks," Sylvens said he isn't concerned with racism from the former governor from Vermont. "I don't believe he's prejudiced. He's just trying to do what Bush did, which is get votes from the South." In a predominantly African-American city, race is something that Dean will not ignore today.
Standing on the back of a pickup truck, Maryland State Delegate Curt Anderson begins the rally, trying to enliven the crowd before the former governor's arrival. "I know there's a lot of white people in the crowd today, but let's get a little soul into it."
Following Anderson's coaching, fellow delegate Maggie McIntosh climbs onto the back of the pickup truck and screams, "Hi, I'm delegate Maggie McIntosh, and I've been Dean for about 60 days." The crowd screams, "HI MAGGIE," with an exuberance that outdoes most AA meetings.
After a slew of Baltimore politicians and union leaders, the crowd finally gets its first view of the candidate. Photographers shuffle over as Dean approaches a crowd in the middle of a chorus of "Happy Birthday, Mr. President." With a small stature, light blue eyes and a neatly coiffed white comb-over, Dean steps onto the bed of the pickup truck.
"Hi, I'm Howard Dean, and I've been Dean for exactly 55 years."
Addressing everything from civil rights to the downfalls of the Democratic party, jobs and healthcare, the candidate's speech follows the recognizable format of whistle stop campaign: campaign vow -- cheer -- campaign vow -- cheer. "You know why the Democrats aren't winning elections? Because we don't stand up for what we believe in! The way to beat George Bush is to stand up for what we believe in!" Whistle, clap.
Stressing "a sense of community" within the Democratic party, as well as the racial politics of the country, the candidate's speech is a Baltimore-tuned pep rally, and the crowd soon swells with passersby. As the candidate moves from the outside pep rally to a meeting with the mayor inside the Wyndham Hotel across the street, the crowd bursts into a cheer:
"What do we want? DEAN! When do we want it? NOW!"
Lingering after Dean's departure, College of Notre Dame of Maryland junior Sarah Puls is clutching her History of Political Science class notes.
"I have a test today, so I got my Political Science notes, and had him sign them," she said. Supporting Dean with her mother, Laura, Puls said she first got involved by looking at Dean's work in Vermont.
"Gay marriage is the big thing that brought everyone out. There's a lot of diversity on campus, and it's something that we've been struggling with," she said.
Her mother, Laura, interrupts. "He looked good. He looks better in person, than he does on TV," she said with a giggle. "He doesn't have that attitude," she said, "The republicans say he's half-cocked and arrogant. We love him."
As for the rally crowd, Carroll said he was impressed. "It wasn't a stuck up crowd, maybe it is inside at the luncheon, but outside, its just the workers."
Inside the Wyndham, the attire changes from union jackets to suit jackets, as check-in begins for a private birthday celebration with the candidate. In a balloon-festooned board room, plates of cold chicken salad sit on empty tables, waiting for the second half of Dean's Baltimore visit. At $250, $500 and $1,000 a plate, the luncheon is part of an aggressive private fund-raising campaign to compensate for the $19 million in funds Dean rejected last Saturday.
"The message today is, "We own the State. No others need apply,'" said Maryland for Dean spokesman David Paulson. In a small dark room partitioned off from the luncheon, Paulson is speaking to a small circle of press, ranging from the local Baltimore station ABC2 to the San Francisco Chronicle. "He's paid more attention to Maryland than any other candidate," he said, citing Dean's August University of Maryland rally that drew more than an estimated 5,000 students.
As donors begin on their salads, the small circle of journalists waits and discusses the day's event. One looks at his beeper. "Mohammed guilty," he announces. "Big surprise."
In a sold out luncheon filled with circular tables, the room is complete with politicians, old ladies and the occasional political-button-covered child. In front of me, a small red-haired boy best resembling Alfred E. Newman grabs the noisemaker in the table's centerpiece and begins whistling as Irish rock band front man and Baltimore Mayor Martin O'Malley strides towards the podium.
"As a person that is an elected member of the democratic party," O'Malley glowed, " I am honored that he would come to the birthplace of the Star-Spangled Banner, in the land of the free and the home of the brave -- ladies and gentlemen, Governor Howard Dean."
In the broad-reaching stump speech, Dean touched on all of the campaigns hot spots -- the Iraqi war, the economy, domestic issues -- but the focus in Baltimore was all about race, unity and urban America.
"A few weeks ago, I got in trouble for talking about the Confederate flag, but I will talk about race," he said, launching into a detailed plan on the justifications for Affirmative Action.
Expanding on the idea of institutional racism, Dean called for a change in even subconsciously racist hiring biases. "We don't need to be ashamed of them, but we need to examine them," he said.
Ending in a call for a call for networking and support, he hinted at his confidence in the nation's fund-raising. "There are (200) million Americans that would gladly pay for a one way ticket back to Crawford, Texas," he said.
As Dean's 55th birthday cake rolled out, lawyer and luncheon organizer Andy Stern presented Dean with a t-shirt with a blue crab on a Maryland flag backdrop. "The reason that the blue crab is our mascot is because we're crabby that Bush is our president."
As the soundtrack of Hairspray played in the background, Dean blew out the candles on his 55th birthday cake, ending his day in Baltimore.
