Pool Report of Obama's Indiana Lunch with Low Dollar Donors
Barack Obama sat down to lunch with five low-dollar donors for the third “Lunch with Barack Obama.” The Illinois senator did a meal for four a D.C. chophouse last summer, and a lunch at a Nashua, N.H., restaurant last year.
Instead of a restaurant, this lunch was at lone table in an otherwise empty multipurpose room in Ball State University's athletic complex (everything about the setting said “staged event”). “Oh, a little intimate lunch here,” Obama said as he entered. Framed pictures of Ball State athletes hung on the walls, and the five lunch guests were seated around a table with a lunch spread of burgers (beef, chicken and Portobello mushroom), salad, fruit salad, brownies, ice tea, and sodas.
The five lunch guests stood in a line to introduce themselves to Obama as he entered. As they sat down to lunch, Obama told everyone “to help themselves,” and explained that he had plenty of 20 and 30 year olds on his staff who would devour any leftovers. “I promise you, I will be eating. I'm starving,” Obama said as he sat down. (Indeed, Obama quickly devoured half of his hamburger in the 10 minutes that your pool was present, and drank water). Obama played the part of waiter, walking around the table to serve hamburgers and chicken sandwiches with tongs from a silver platter. “See? This is full service,” he said.
The guests had been flown in from around the country, and Ben Cherry, a retired school superintendent from Albuquerque, N.M., said he'd had trouble getting a flight since American Airlines flights had been cancelled. The Obama staff had found him a U.S. Airways flight out of Phoenix. “This whole thing has just been a nightmare,” Obama said. “I just feel badly for people.”
Obama helped himself to a burger, and dressed it with mustard as he asked the guests to tell them a little about themselves. Alisa Cordell, who works in information technology in Raleigh, N.C., didn't say much about herself, and instead praised Obama. “You are just a star,” she said, before telling Obama she was “about to get fired” because she spent all her time talking about him. “Don't do that,” he said loudly.
Mr. Cherry gave Obama his biography. As a school superintendent for rural Alaskan villages, he'd flown to work three days a week and raised a family in one of the most isolated parts of the country. He told Obama that he and his wife had had a ticket to Seattle to visit their grown children this weekend, but that he had thrown out the itinerary to fly to Muncie for lunch with the senator.
Obama wanted to know how cold it got in Bristol Bay, Alaska. “About 40 below,” Cherry said rather nonchalantly. “That's pretty cold,” Obama replied. After Cherry was done sharing his stories Obama turned to Raisa Dorff, who lives in New York and works as a singer, actress and waitress. “Well try to top that,” Obama said. The pool was escorted out as she began to tell Obama about being in New York City on Sept. 11, 2001.
At a far wall, lunch guests had placed various items for Obama to sign — your pooler counted 15 books, each with a note card telling Obama who to write to and what to say, along with photos, t-shirts, and even a job recommendation letter. (The letter, to be signed bv Obama from lunch guest Paul Deery, an elementary school art teacher, was a generic recommendation for a position at an elementary school art department and wasn't addressed to anyone in particular.) Deery had also left a book to be signed for his father, “a Republican who likes you but is nervous about a Democratic executive and legislature,” the note read. “Ease his mind.”
The five selected guests had made a donation to a “Lunch with Barack” drive, and each had submitted at that time a note about themselves. Those notes narrowed the field to a few dozen candidates who were then interviewed by the campaign. Their bios, per the campaign, follow.
