First, I saw the cheeseheads. Yes, the entire Wisconsin delegation is wearing foam rubber wedges of cheddar on their heads. Never mind that they’re in Chicago. Never mind that it’s the emblem of Green Bay Packer fans. They’re really, really proud to be from Wisconsin, and they want all the other delegations to know it.
The cheeseheads weren’t the only state-related headgear I saw at the convention. There was a young man walking through the halls wearing an ear of corn.
“Iowa, right?” I asked.
“You bet.”
And there was the gentleman wearing what I at first thought was a crab.
“Are you from Maryland?” I asked.
“Maine!” he said, pointing at his head. “It’s a lobstah!”
It’s hard for locals to understand, but there are people who come from places other than Chicago, and are really, really proud of it. The Nebraska delegation wore t-shirts with illustrations of Malcolm X, Standing Bear, and Willa Cather — all born in the Cornhusker state. Kansas wore Kansas City Chiefs jerseys. A Puerto Rican delegate in a “This Boricua Para Kamala Harris” shirt. I even saw t-shirts for Democrats Abroad, a delegation of expatriates.
And, of course, everyone wore a piece of Kamala Harris swag: a hat, a button, a shirt. Joe Biden dropped out of the race exactly one month ago, but the party’s iconography has completely changed in that time. At the DemPalooza flea market in McCormick Place, it was hard to find anything with Biden’s name or face on it. The best-selling shirt was labeled “Madam President” with Harris’s face on it. (A lot of Democrats have been waiting a long time to say those words. The New York Times designed a “Madam President” front page on Election Night 2016, but had to tear it up.) There were socks with the name Kamala. A “Coconut Tree Farmers for Harris” button. (Harris’s mother used to tell her, “I don’t know what’s wrong with you young people. You think you just fell out of a coconut tree?”) And a “,la” button that offered a lesson in pronouncing the candidate’s name.
The big speeches took place in the United Center. It was a big night for Illinois, with Senator Tammy Duckworth, Governor J.B. Pritzker, Michelle Obama, and Barack Obama all taking the podium. Common helped introduce the proceedings with a rap written for the occasion. (“The feeling is free/ Chitown and the DNC.”) But the best place to get close to big political names was at the caucus meetings inside McCormick Place. At the Military and Veterans Caucus, the first man to speak was Arizona Senator Mark Kelly, the former naval aviator and astronaut who was once a favorite to be named Harris’s running mate. Kelly walked out in his Navy jacket and a Navy cap and ripped into Donald Trump.
“Some Republicans like to think that their political party has a monopoly on patriotism,” said Kelly, a slight man with a booming, authoritative voice, as one would expect from a retired Navy captain. “No political party does. But in this election, it’s pretty clear to me which party supports veterans and which does not.”
Joe Biden signed the PACT Act, which expands Veterans Administration health care and benefits for Veterans exposed to burn pits, Agent Orange, and other toxic substances. Trump?
“This is the man who spat on the legacy of John McCain, a hero of mine whose Senate seat I am currently in. He called veterans suckers and losers. He called the Presidential Medal of Freedom better than the Presidential Medal of Honor. Why? Because Medal of Honor winners have been hit by bullets or are dead. The concept of putting someone else before himself is so foreign to him he thinks people are tricked into joining the military.”
Kelly left the room, to do media interviews and pose for selfies. He was followed by another big name, Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg, who served in the war in Afghanistan. Buttigieg also attacked Trump. That’s a big theme at this convention.
“I remember when there was something exotic about someone who cared about national security and was a Democrat,” Buttigieg said. “No party owns patriotism. Just like God does not belong to a political party.”
Trump, who received a Vietnam War deferment for bone spurs in his heel, has “an unbroken pattern of not being able to understand service to others.”
Finally, we heard from Gwen Walz, the wife of Tim Walz, Harris’s running mate, who spent 24 years in the Army National Guard.
“I’m a mom, a sister, a friend, a retired military spouse, and I’m also a teacher and educator,” Walz said, in her strong Minnesota accent. The Walzes met when they were both teaching high school in Nebraska. He taught social studies. She taught English.
“We knew right away that we shared a belief that education can be transformative,” she said. She didn’t expect to be married to a politician: “When Tim ran for Congress in 2006, the last thing he had been elected to was homecoming king. But he won in a tough rural district. Then he won five more times, and was elected governor twice. We have never lost a political race and we don’t intend to start now.”
Finally, she offered a little Minnesota campaign advice: Bake for your campaign volunteers.
“Do you know what bars are?” she said, referring to baked goods such as Scotcheroos. “Bake bars for those people who are doorknocking.”
In the hallway, Kentucky Governor Andy Beshear — another vice-presidential finalist — was surrounded by a throng of reporters outside the Rural Caucus. Representative Ayanna Pressley of Massachusetts — a Chicago native — was conducting an interview. Chasten Buttigieg, Pete’s husband, was chatting with supporters. Inside McCormick Place, where their images aren’t projected on enormous video screens, they all looked life-sized. It’s the one place in this convention where politicians look like actual people.