A Very Bad Night: Election 2024
Election Night was hours of hope, tension, and watching the worst possible outcome occur.
With the sun shining and a high of 78 degrees, about 10 degrees above normal, Election Day 2024 in D.C. is curiously warm, though pleasant. A byproduct of climate change? It’s hard to appreciate the weather, knowing it may herald planetary peril.
There is a similar pleasant-yet-apprehensive mood at Little Gay Pub at the corner of 11th and P Streets NW in the city’s Logan Circle neighborhood. Artist Lisa Marie Thalhammer‘s stylized British phone-box mural cheerfully hugs the corner of the building. Vice President Kamala Harris’s smiling visage is equally cheery on posters at the entrance, coupled with various Harris cutouts looking out of windows. Previous postings were vandalized, but everything is looking stellar as patrons arrive for a night of election results.
Tonight, Democrat Harris, competing against former President Donald Trump to become the country’s next president, will be watching those results roll in just a few blocks away at her alma mater, fabled HBCU Howard University.
As LGP opens, at 5 p.m., about a dozen arrive. The corner of the bar is arranged with a stack of swag celebrating the vice president and her running mate, Gov. Tim Walz of Minnesota. There’s a pyramid of mugs, a jug of pins, T-shirts, and dozens of fans featuring the vice president’s smiling face. Three TV’s are tuned to CNN coverage, minus audio. Among the few already gathered, the mood seems, as many have put it, “nauseously optimistic.” After all, the neck-and-neck polling gave Harris some last-minute bumps. Harris’s Oct. 29 rally at The Ellipse, notably at the site of Trump’s Capitol-attack sendoff Jan. 6, 2021, was massive.
“Iowa? North Carolina looks good, too!” is overheard from a corner of the room.
It’s 5:20 and the soundtrack piped through the bar, rather than the voices of CNN pundits, turns to a classic, The Police’s 1979 hit, “Message in a Bottle.” Rescue me before I fall into despair. I’ll send an S.O.S. to the world.
Some friends grab a table and settle in with a round of espresso martinis.
Cailey Doran, a former Washingtonian, has made the trip down from Boston to join friends on this historic night. The 34-year-old also prefers the D.C. mood for such an occasion.
“I really miss the community of D.C. and how invested everybody is in the election, and politics in general,” she says. “This is the epicenter of American politics. There’s a lot of energy. I’d have FOMO if I wasn’t here…. The energy here has been very uplifting today, very pro-Harris, pro-Democrats.”
Next to Doran is Matt Harrop, who lives in the city. He appreciates that his office allowed employees to take the day off. “I’m very grateful that they did,” he says. “I feel like they understood the emotional aspect.” As for his own emotions, he’s managing.
“I’m really hopeful,” the 35-year-old says as the gathered await the night’s first data points. “After [Hillary Clinton’s loss in] 2016, I’m prepared for the worst, mentally and emotionally. But I have not let that get in the way of my hope for the election and for the future of our country. I’m hopeful.”
So is Doran, adding, “I’m very optimistic. I’m feeling a different energy than I’ve ever felt in a presidential election. There’s too much at stake for people not to show up and support Kamala Harris and make sure that man never comes to Washington, D.C., ever again.”
James Merrick, also of D.C., is the nexus of the group, having been friends with Doran for nearly a decade, before being Harrop’s roommate and then friend in Charlotte, N.C. He notes with a laugh their choice of venue this evening. “I needed to be with Gays, with my people.”
Despite his easy laughter and conviviality, Merrick, 36, bluntly lays out to the stakes, characterizing his stress as extreme. “There’s a shit-ton on the line right now — like our democracy,” he says. “My ability as a Gay, Black man to live in this country, I think, is in question this election…. My first time voting in a presidential election was ’08. The same energy and hope and optimism I had voting for Barack Obama in 2008, I see happening today, particularly among Gen Z and Millennials, though all the way up to Boomers. There’s an energy that I don’t think we’ve had in a presidential election in a long time.”
Returning to past elections, Doran recalls being miserable when Clinton lost to Trump in 2016, saying, “It was a really hard time for people, to feel so let down by the country and the place we call home.”
Merrick remembers that night with particular detail. “I was living here in 2016,” he says. “I watched the election results at Nellie’s. I lived in Shaw at the time, and I remember walking down 7th Street with tears flowing out of my eyes, and the sobs I heard on the street walking home. I don’t think we’re going to let that happen again.”
At 7 p.m., cheers are heard as CNN announces that Harris has, unsurprisingly, won Vermont. Trump’s expected Kentucky wins elicits some boos. Just after 8 p.m., Harris takes Massachusetts to louder cheers, an increase perhaps directly related to another hour of drinking and a crowd of 70 or so. “Surprise, surprise,” deadpans Merrick.
By 9 p.m. CNN is calling Texas for Trump. The Lone Star State had been one of the red strongholds that Democrats thought might finally be within reach, particularly with Democratic Rep. Colin Allred polling reasonably well against GOP incumbent Sen. Ted Cruz. Loud boos fill the bar. While the so-called “Blue Wall” of Democratic-leaning states still stands, Texas would make a Harris win all the sweeter. The mood is beginning to feel more tense. Hopes for Texas may have been aspirational, but as one hope is extinguished, others seem harder to hold.
And, should Trump win?
“It’s not the country I thought we were,” says Merrick. “What, potentially, he could do to this country is not the country I envision for myself or for any generations after. My mother was an immigrant to this country, and I very much feel like this is a country built on a foundation of being inclusive, of being open. And [Trump] stands for every single thing I’m against. Those who support him also do. If he wins, I’ve got to go.”
“Italy sounds great,” he adds with a playful laugh. “Spain would be fantastic.”
Doran echoes Merrick’s sentiments, with Ireland already in mind.
“I can’t do it again,” she insists, pondering a possible Trump win. “I can’t go back to the person that it made me into in 2016. It was a really hard time for people, to feel so let down by the country and the place we call home. I can’t do another four years.”
For Harrop, there is no exit plan, just resolve.
“First off, I don’t really have a choice,” he says plainly. “My family’s here. I love my family and I want to be close to my family. I’d stick it out. I’m going to fight. I think it’s better to have a seat at the table, to keep making noise, to keep making sure people know we’re here.”
It’s half past 10, and more people are leaving than arriving. Some are stumbling out. Pro-choice Floridians are not able to pass the 60 percent threshold to rid the state of a six-week abortion ban. Pundits are wondering if the Georgia count might take days. Someone shouts, “Fuck you, Josh Hawley!” Cheers go up for wins by Angela Alsobrooks, running for Senate from Maryland; Senate candidate Lisa Blunt Rochester of Delaware; and New York’s U.S. Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand holding her seat.
A few minutes before 11 p.m. CNN shows glimpses of the Trump watch party in West Palm Beach, Fla. Closed captioning advises that the crowd is dancing to The Village People’s Gay anthem, “YMCA,” a Trump favorite.
Around 11:15, most of the crowd has cleared, taking hope with them. The election has yet to be called, but it’s not looking good. Overnight, that will be confirmed.
Late afternoon Wednesday, Harris returns to the Howard campus to deliver her concession speech.
“A fundamental principle of American democracy is that when we lose an election, we accept the results,” she tells the crowd, tapping into her seemingly inexhaustible fount of optimism, while indirectly underscoring Trump’s never-ending denial of losing in 2020.
“That principle, as much as any other, distinguishes democracy from monarchy or tyranny…. [W]hile I concede this election, I do not concede the fight that fueled this campaign: the fight for freedom, for opportunity, for fairness, and the dignity of all people, a fight for the ideals at the heart of our nation, the ideals that reflect America at our best…. This is not a time to throw up our hands. This is a time to roll up our sleeves.”
The vice president finishes her speech and waves to the crowd, joined by her husband, Doug Emhoff. Beyoncé’s “Freedom,” a Harris-campaign signature song plays, and America’s 2024 presidential election is over.
Support Metro Weekly’s Journalism
These are challenging times for news organizations. And yet it’s crucial we stay active and provide vital resources and information to both our local readers and the world. So won’t you please take a moment and consider supporting Metro Weekly with a membership? For as little as $5 a month, you can help ensure Metro Weekly magazine and MetroWeekly.com remain free, viable resources as we provide the best, most diverse, culturally-resonant LGBTQ coverage in both the D.C. region and around the world. Memberships come with exclusive perks and discounts, your own personal digital delivery of each week’s magazine (and an archive), access to our Member's Lounge when it launches this fall, and exclusive members-only items like Metro Weekly Membership Mugs and Tote Bags! Check out all our membership levels here and please join us today!
You must be logged in to post a comment.