Like many Democrats, Caren Lobo was emotionally jolted by the keynote speech Barack Obama gave at the Democratic National Convention in Boston back in the summer of 2004. She remembers being viscerally impacted watching it from her couch with husband Dick Lobo.
“I remember saying, ‘Oh, my God, is this for real?’” recalls Caren from her Hyde Park home. Particularly moving, she says, was Obama’s clarion call for an end to the politics of polarization. She then recites: “‘…There is not a liberal America and a conservative America. There is the United States of America. There is not a black America and a white America and a Latino America and an Asian America – there’s the United States of America…’
“That moved me,” says Lobo, her eyes re-misting at the recollection. “He was harkening back to our core values.”
She then read Obama’s “Dreams From My Father.”
“We weren’t that involved politically, notes Lobo, 55, “that we would go and trace a career. But we learned that he was revered by students at the University of Chicago. We found out that he could have written his own ticket out of Harvard, but that he’s not motivated by money. Dick and I said, ‘We have to pay attention.’”
Once rumors commenced that the rookie Illinois senator might announce his presidential candidacy, Caren Lobo made a vow: “I said: ‘If he does this, I want to work for him. He could ignite the flame in a new generation.’”
The Lobos then attended Obama fund-raisers in Palm Beach and Miami, including one at the home of celebrity attorney Roy Black. “I was signed, sealed and delivered,” she says.
The Lobos are plugged in. Dick is the president and CEO of PBS affiliate WEDU in Tampa. Caren’s background includes management consulting and arts organizing. Caren knew people. She had a grass-roots disposition. And she was pumped.
She worked on house parties, phone banks and committed to raise more than $250,000 for the campaign. That included a fundraiser at the Lobos’ other residence – in Sarasota – featuring Michelle Obama. Caren worked with local Obama organizer Frank Sanchez and, like Sanchez, was named to Obama’s national finance committee.
At every turn, she saw her gut reaction to Obama’s 2004 keynote address reinforced. She had ample opportunities to interact with the candidate – and to see what might be behind the “Change” image.
“He doesn’t change,” stresses Lobo. “On or off stage. He’s genuine. Warm. Easy. Very present. He wasn’t desperate for you to love him.
“You cannot help but be impressed by his ability to inspire an army of people,” underscores Lobo. “Take his race talk in Philly. Not everyone thought it was a good idea. But he insisted that he do it. And he wrote it himself. He has the ability to take himself out of the emotional moment and look at a collective American problem.”
While critics, including the media, scrutinized the flawed campaigns of Hillary Clinton and John McCain, outsiders generally lavished praise on the Obama operation – from internet fundraising and early-voting strategies to caucus tactics and message discipline.
“I remember he sat right across from me, one-on-one, and said, ‘We are going to win Iowa, and everything will flow from there,’” she says. “He was incredibly well-organized, and the campaign reflected that. I knew he was someone who could speak truth to power, because he went against the Democratic establishment.”
Named Elector
Now fast forward to Dec. 15, 2008. The site: the Florida State Capitol building in Tallahassee. The floor of the Florida Senate. The gallery was reserved for media, selected students and friends of the 27 electors who would cast presidential ballots. Secretary of State Kurt Browning presiding.
It’s the quadrennial convening of history. This was the “electoral college’s” Florida campus. And Caren Lobo, having been chosen by her state’s Democratic State Executive Committee, was one of those 27. One of 538 across the country.
“It’s such an incredible experience,” she says. “They don’t tell you what to expect. It’s very informal – until they call you to sign.”
Informal enough to allow for levity. Steve Schale, Obama’s Florida campaign manager, reported that he had received a call from Chicago headquarters reminding him that “It’s Florida, after all, and tell them not to mess up.”
After an invocation and the pledge of allegiance, ballots were passed out. Two boxes to check, a line for a signature and one for the printed version. Within seven minutes the ballots had been collected and counted by the clerk.
“Nobody,” recalls Lobo with a grin, “went rogue.” (There is no Constitutional provision or federal law that requires electors to vote according to the results of the popular vote in their states, but they invariably do.)
Browning then had each elector step forward, in alphabetical order, to sign seven official certificates (with their souvenir Sharpies) that would be forwarded to the President of the Senate and the Archivist of the United States in Washington. Each elector received a certificate.
At the end, says Lobo, everyone rose, applauded and collectively cried. They all were given buttons that said with more than a hint of irony: “Mission Accomplished.”
“You feel like a player in an epic movie,” reflects Lobo.
“I know it’s just a ritual,” she acknowledges. “I know it’s sort of archaic. But it was still a thrill and a great honor.”
So, what of this “ritual” of honor that many, including Florida Sen. Bill Nelson, want replaced (which would take a Constitutional Amendment) by a purely popular vote? Does she disagree?
“It is what it is,” she notes diplomatically. “My nature is to say the popular vote is fine. But I’m not from a smaller state.”
Elector Perk
The Lobos went to Washington for the Inaugural, because they wouldn’t have missed it. Also, electors get reserved seating.
“It was magical and emotional,” says Caren Lobo. “Two million people assembled peacefully in freezing cold to witness history.
“I remember looking back and seeing a sea of people with flags. It looked like shimmering water. And that crowd – it looked like America. And it looked like the world.”