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Photo by Lauren Bernhardt-Rhone

I stood around the South Loop School gym for an hour and a half after the polls closed last night. I had to give the judges of election my official candidate’s credentials so I could hang out and wait for the results that came rippling out of their computers on adding machine tape--from my own precinct and two others. I won all three precincts (and as it turned out later many others in the Second Ward), but I still smelled the possibility of doom because these were my neighbors voting for me. And I figured they like me--or at least recognize my name--and the odds were that I would be a solid favorite in the neighborhood.

And sure enough when I got home, I had lost the Cook County democratic primary for circuit court judge in the Hayes vacancy. And it was back to life as it used to be.

Or almost as it used to be. Because something changed during this campaign between me and my neighbors in the South Loop. I have learned through these past five months that I have some good friends here. True friends who would do just about anything for me. Not a single person I know from the South Loop has betrayed me, disappointed me or not been there for me during this whole silly season ordeal. No matter where I go in my neighborhood at Roosevelt and State--for blocks in every direction--there are people there who have my back, and as far as I know, the biggest best wishes for me in their hearts.

They put my signs in their windows--some in high rises so people in other high rises could see my name--and on their lawns, if they had them. And they dumped them in their trunks and brought them to their friends and relatives around the city and suburbs. They almost got hit by cars sticking them into snow packs along the side of the road, and they irritated the powers that be when they put them near early voting polling places around town.

They put my beautiful blue campaign cards on train and bus seats “by accident” and on top of newspapers in the boxes. They got my window signs in the neighborhood businesses when I was too timid to ask--or too short of time to bother. They introduced me to their friends in their own living rooms and had meet and greets at public venues where we had some fun.

They circulated petitions--and didn’t even get mad when they were subpoenaed by one of my overwrought and overbearing opponents who filed an election challenge to beat the band, accusing me not only of forging signatures, but everything else imaginable under the sun. (The case is still pending in the Illinois Supreme Court where he appealed after losing before the electoral board, the circuit court and the Illinois appellate court.) That little episode seemed to make my South Loop friends like me and support me even more.

They called, emailed and offered me a lot of breakfasts--from Yolk to Bongo Room to Starbucks at the Blackstone--so I could talk and vent, and they could collect more campaign literature to hand out to people who didn’t know me.

They sent emails to their friends and relatives begging them to vote for me because I was a decent person and someone who would make a fine judge. And even though I’m not supposed to know how much, I do know they gave me a ton of money--because they all came to my fundraiser at Petterino’s. They wanted me to have their money to pay for signs and ads and campaign literature (and mounting legal fees) so that I would be able to conduct a classy and well funded fight to the finish.

If I asked them to go around the neighborhood and recycle the left over signs, they would. If I needed their time or more money or a shoulder to boo-hoo on, I now know--after this run for judge--that they would be there. Even the ones who have moved for one reason or another to the suburbs (some even out of Cook County) have been there for me in so many different ways--and I know they would be again if I asked. They ignored the nasty and falsified comments about me on the blogs--and seemed to support me even more as the comments got nastier and meaner and bigger in falsehoods. (And they sure looked upset when I told a few of them that I lost their signatures during the records check part of my election challenge because they used an initial when they signed my petitions or some such variation. But who knew? And ultimately it mattered not-I had plenty of signatures to stay on the ballot.)

I have learned through the ups and downs of this campaign (one up was getting two beautiful banners made with my name and punch number to attach to my wrought iron fence in two directions; and a down was when one was ripped down by some unknown vandal) that I am loved and respected by a lot of people in the South Loop. And that is more valuable in many ways than winning an election with votes from people who don’t know you at all--and just have a mental picture of who you may be.

Now that it’s all over, I want every single one of my South Loop friends who helped me fight a massive old boys’ network in this campaign to know how much I appreciate every second--and every penny--they devoted to me in my quest to serve as a judge in Cook County. It was worth the full price of admission to this rarefied and weird and sometimes terrible world of Cook County politics. Because I also entered a world of being totally cared about by a host of pals who I know would do it all again. If I were to ask.

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