On that rainy November Day
It was on that rainy November day, at precisely 4:28 PM, that time seemed to stop for so many of us.
It had been raining all day, but that didn’t matter to us. We gathered around the Wells Fargo Arena at around six in the morning. We were excited and elated to be there as we plunged signs into the ground and set up larger signs and pinned them down against the fierce wind. We spent the next ten hours cheering and ringing cowbells and waving signs with enthusiasm and energy. After a long day, we finally gathered at our meeting spot to await the person for which we did all of this. Then, the news broke and rippled through the crowd.
We began to cry. Alone, with each other. We sobbed and hugged against the backdrop of hundreds of signs that boldly proclaimed the three words that had come to mean so much to so many of us:
BETO FOR AMERICA
When the information arrived that Beto O’Rourke had ended his campaign for the Democratic presidential nomination, it was like being hit by a garbage truck. It was so sudden. None of us had seen it coming. I took off my BETO FOR PRESIDENT hat and covered my face with my hand as tears rolled down my face and I gasped for breath. None of us understood. Why? Why now?
After about an hour, the man himself arrived. His face wasn’t a reflection of ours. He was calm, composed.
He spoke to us. Not a tear down his cheek, nor a crack in the voice. He said he was proud of us. Of his family, of his staff, and of his volunteers. He explained to us that though he was no longer in the race, his fight would continue.
“This has been the honor of my lifetime. I love you all and I know that I’ll be seeing you down the road.” It eerily echoed his concession speech for the Senate in 2018.
We crowded around him after the speech. We all wanted to see him, to thank him one more time. When I reached him, I immediately went to hug him.
“Thank you so much. You’ve inspired me and I’m so grateful. I’m so proud of you” I said through my tears. It was all true. I had never been prouder to be apart of a team led by such an incredible man. I also thanked him for the call he made to me back in August.
Beto smiled his big smile. “Hey, I’m so proud of you for persevering and sticking with it. That’s so important.”
I shook his hand and left the crowd. The next few hours went by in a blur. I was still processing everything. I didn’t know what to do, now. Beto’s campaign had been such a big part of my life and now it was over. Moving to another team would be so painful. The group I was with learned we would be meeting Beto at a restaurant later in the night.
Beto arrived at the restaurant not long after us. I was outside when he pulled up. He smiled at me and put his hand on my shoulder. “You goin’ inside? If not, you better put on a coat.” He seemed relaxed, as if it was any other day.
After a time, I managed to get close to him one more time. I asked him to sign a small booklet one of the volunteers had made for the day. He happily obliged:
“JARED! YOU ARE MY HERO-YOUR COURAGE+PERSISTENCE IS INSPRING! BETO”
On that rainy November day, many of my hopes and dreams for America came to a standstill. My seven month long journey was over. It still hasn’t quite set in. I’m still sad, reflecting. But, after a time, I came to realize something: this isn’t what Beto would want from me. To sit about and mope about what could have been. He would want me to have what he said in his note: courage and persistence.The fight isn’t over just because he’s out of the race. He’s not giving up. And neither am I.
My fight is just beginning.
And I’m born to be in it.
Man, I’m just born to be in it.
