By Kurt Kuhn
Smithville, Texas is known as the small-town setting of the Sandra Bullock film Hope Floats, and this past Saturday it lived up to the title. That evening, Central Texas enjoyed continued heavy rainstorms, and the Bastrop County Democratic Party held its Candidate Showcase at the local American Legion Hall. Both events drew lots of attention.
As we slowly drove out to the meeting, we could barely see the lines on highway 71. The rain would end up delaying or preventing attendance by several of the candidates, and we all worried it would hurt turnout. But despite the storm, when we arrived we found the parking lot beginning to fill.
My campaign manager and I made a dash from the car. Despite our umbrellas, we got soaked on about half of our bodies. The parking lot was temporarily a flash flood and the rain was coming in sideways, so socks, shoes, and the left side of my body took the brunt of the storm. (For those of you following me on Twitter or Facebook: Yes, these are the dress shoes that I have worn a hole in the bottom of while campaigning. I really need to get to the shoe store.)
But all of that was forgotten the minute we reached the door. The Bastrop Democrats cheered as we jumped over a three-foot wide puddle and splashed through the threshhold. We landed in a room filled with warm people, the smell of great barbeque, and more homemade desserts than imaginable. The event was built around a series of short speeches by local and statewide candidates and officeholders—from the County Clerk to the Congressman. But what made the event so special was the chance to meet with and talk to the more than 100 Democrats who had braved the weather to learn about the candidates and share their own concerns and ideas. I saw in the crowd the same hope, optimism, and determination that has made America the great nation it is.
The folks seemed to like my speech about why the Third Court matters to Texas, and as always I received more back from the crowd than I could ever give. The encouragement and support I felt was humbling, and it made me want to work that much harder to ensure that all Texans receive the justice they deserve.
By the end of the evening, my petition sheets were full, the bumper stickers were gone, and I was carrying out only the heavy tin of homemade fudge I bought at the dessert table. As I stepped back out into the dark but now drying parking lot, the rain had stopped and the air was filled with the sweet smell that follows a rainstorm out in the countryside. While some had worried that the weather would affect the turnout, driving back to Austin, I could not help but think that Central Texas really needed the rain, and as long as hope still floats, we would all be just fine.
