In the campaign for Nick, we had no access to any levers of power. We had been denied use of the park that had been the field of dreams for our kids. When I found out that Rudy Lozano Jr. was running for state representative in 2010, I showed up at Rudy’s office at 55th and Pulaski and volunteered for door-knocking.
When Jesus “Chuy” Garcia joined the slate running for County Commissioner, I was fully on board. Just as Nick had stirred memories of earlier days, Lozano and Garcia had a special meaning for me. Rudy Sr. had been assassinated in 1983 following his narrow defeat for Little Village alderman. Chuy had stepped up to take the place of Rudy Sr. He went on to become an alderman, a confidant of Mayor Harold Washington and then a state senator.
Chuy’s 2010 race for commissioner was special because it marked his return to politics after 10 years leading a community organization in Little Village. The Daley Machine had unseated him from the State Senate in 2000. They flooded our precincts with shock troops from the now discredited Hispanic Democratic Organization (HDO). All of a sudden, jobs and hired truck contracts were being earmarked for Latinos. The aggressive HDO poll workers managed to turn out a slim majority for a machine Latino. One of my neighbors was roughed up by HDO heavies as he was passing out palm cards for Chuy that day.
Now Chuy was ready for a comeback. This time he would go against a machine Latino who was under suspicion of taking kickbacks from medical suppliers to Cook County Hospital. I was looking at these races as revenge. It is bad enough that many in Latino neighborhoods cannot vote because they are not citizens. The use of patronage to pull down true progressive leaders like Chuy was an affront to my sensibilities.
I was assigned the 11th Ward section of Chuy’s district. These precincts were near my house. Chuy held an initial meeting that included some friends who live in our neighborhood. I got all the phone numbers and we were on our way. We do campaigning in Chicago with walk sheets of all voters in a precinct. We canvass and then grade each voter with a plus, a minus, or a zero. We monitor who shows up on Election Day. Towards the end of the day, we send runners bring in all of the “plus” voters who haven’t yet voted.
The hardest part is to build a network of poll watchers, palm-card passers and runners for every single precinct. Success depends on getting people to be influencers of their neighbors. In our group we pondered how to make Chuy’s campaign the popular cause in the neighborhood.
Remembering some of the formulas of my youth, I proposed an event where the most active supporters could meet the candidate. The active campaigners were the “key link”, something we could have a handle on. They were a group that could, in turn, have an impact on the neighborhood at large. I always make this analogy for key link, “What do you grab when you are trying to untie a knot? If you grab the wrong strand, what do you do next?”
It was a classic see-saw discussion – – one of my old tactics for coming to a resolution. For those who were doubtful, I’d say, “It would be really good if we could sponsor a public event. But I don’t think we have a good location or enough time”. Then for those who were more optimistic, I’d propose a banquet hall that was too big and expensive.
Both sides tried to temper my words. The doubters thought maybe we could find a place that would work. The optimists called for my choice of location to be more realistic. In the end, we settled on La Palapa, a sea-food place that could accommodate us in the front dining area. Of the 45 who attended, 15 showed up to work Election Day. Chuy won in our ward and grabbed 59% of the commissioner district. My crew was coming together. My political identity in the neighborhood was becoming established.