The Wigwam was electric with hope.
The 6,000 or so in attendance at Hillary Rodham Clinton’s speech at the fabled Anderson gymnasium Thursday afternoon hoped, maybe believed, that Clinton was the leader to pull the nation out of its malaise.
The faces in the crowd, especially high up and toward the back, were worn with signs of the hardships they had suffered. If one watched them cheering for Clinton on Thursday, it was easy to notice the strain in their eyes. Those eyes also shined with the hope that Clinton — locked in a pitched battle with Barack Obama for the Democratic nomination for president — would be the answer. The answer to high unemployment, gas prices over $3 a gallon, $10,000 medical bills, 60-percent graduation rates, and a five-year war in Iraq.
Judging from the questions the people in the crowd asked, the slogans they shouted and even the buttons and T-shirts some of them wore, Hillary personified their hope as much as anything because of her connection to the presidential administration of her husband. And on Thursday, Hillary sought to validate the belief in that connection.
She noted that some people scoff at her potential presidency as a return to the Wild Bill years of the 1990s. “I always wonder what part of the ’90s they (critics) don’t like — the peace or the prosperity,” she mused into the microphone.
The Wigwam thundered with cheers. It was quite the spectacle. During the 2 1/2-hour wait inside the venerable arena, “Hillary!” chants rose to the rafters, and the human wave swept around the arena.
It was indeed electric.
People had waited in line for hours, some since early in the morning, to get into the Wigwam. The line at times snaked two blocks long. The first day of spring brought sunshine and a welcome respite from the dreary rain of the days before. But it was cold out there waiting for hours. But they waited, and for the most part they waited cheerfully.
The crowd was giddy with anticipation for the appearance of Clinton and for that of U.S. Sen. Evan Bayh, the former Indiana governor who is positioned as a possible running mate for Clinton.
She brought Bayh to the throng Thursday, and she brought promises of jobs, affordable health care, better education and, yes, peace and prosperity. And if you’re wondering whether she can really deliver any of the above, you’re missing the primary thrust of Clinton’s Thursday stop in Anderson.
What she did deliver, for at least one sun-blessed afternoon at the edifice most closely identified with Anderson’s glorious past, was hope. And hope is something Anderson can build on.
