900: Talk Me Into It

In Detroit’s close Senate race, retired police dispatcher and great-grandmother Rose Johnson campaigns for Democrat Abdul El-Sayed, whom she has seen repeatedly at community events. She says he remembers people, hugs them, and treats them naturally, so she “stands behind him a thousand percent.” A friend tells Rose she will not vote for El-Sayed because he is Arab, distinguishing Arab Americans from African Americans and admitting she does not trust him despite not having heard his speeches. Rose calls the prejudice foolish, compares it to attacks on Kamala Harris, and threatens to end the friendship if her friend refuses to vote for him.

Rose says some Black Detroiters resent Arab store owners because Arabs receive businesses, loans, and opportunities that African Americans were denied, then behave as though they are privileged. She says Black residents already receive enough condescension from white people and even jokes that there should be “a ban against white people.” Rose believes she has talked other acquaintances out of anti-Arab prejudice, but her oldest friend declines an offered meeting with El-Sayed because her brother has died and she is traveling to his funeral. Rose refuses to give up: she will escort her friend to the polls and whisper “Abdul, Abdul, Abdul” from outside the booth.

Montana Democrat Alani Bankhead, a 44-year-old Puerto Rican Air Force veteran and former child-sex-crimes investigator, entered the Senate race as a political novice with less than $15,000 raised. Then television, mail, social-media, text, and phone advertising suddenly promoted her, though neither she nor her campaign knew who was paying. Progressive Vet PAC reported raising $2.8 million, roughly ten times the support given to the established frontrunner. The ads made Bankhead recognizable and helped her win the primary by double digits. She suspected either an “Amazing Angel Investor” or a nefarious attempt to influence her later.

After Bankhead became the nominee, Progressive Vet PAC stopped supporting her and appeared to favor independent Seth Bodnar, a former Green Beret with deep Montana connections. Montana Democrats believed an independent had a better chance than a Democrat in the state and may have funded Bankhead specifically because strategists thought she would be easiest to push out. Billionaire-linked donor Jason Carroll had also given to Bodnar, which Bankhead viewed as a smoking gun. Former senator Max Baucus confirmed that people he knew had discussed choosing a candidate likely to withdraw. Bankhead answered the strategy with “jokes on them” and “eat shit.”

Democratic insiders allegedly tried to clear the field for Bodnar. Former candidate Riley Neal says a prominent Democrat asked whether she would leave for $500,000, then jokingly—or seriously—raised the figure to $15 million; former governor Brian Schweitzer denied offering a bribe and said he may have been testing rumors. After the primary, signs reading “Bow out, Bankhead” appeared around Helena, and national Democrats called Bankhead about her poor polling and possible future jobs. She says they probed what she wanted next and mentioned a DNC office for female veterans, but she rejected working for an organization she believed had betrayed her.

Bankhead’s deadline to withdraw passed while polls put the Republican above 40 percent, Bodnar in the high 20s or low 30s, and her in the teens. Former senator John Tester, who supports Bodnar, says there is no grassroots evidence Bankhead can win and calls that belief illegal “smoking.” Bankhead responds that she won 48,000 primary votes and that Democrats claiming to support democracy should support the nominee. She says losing would still be the voters’ choice. Her refusal fuels rumors that she is a Republican plant designed to split anti-Trump votes, while the state Democratic Party leader resigns and endorses Bodnar.

Ira recalls a 1976 interview in which former car salesman and All Things Considered host Noah Adams described a sales-training tactic. When customers hesitate, the salesperson invokes Benjamin Franklin, draws a line down a sheet, and helps list perhaps 20 reasons to buy immediately. The customers must then list reasons not to buy, usually producing only three or four while the salesperson waits in silence. Any specific objection can be answered and turned into another closing move. Adams says the only escape is to break the social role and say, “I don’t know why, I just don’t want it.” His wife says he used that line himself.

In Allentown, Republican organizer Sam Negron rejects polls predicting declining Hispanic support for Trump, saying his door-knocking shows voters remain Republican and some have switched parties. At a barbershop, Willie Castillo says he does not regret supporting Trump, even though friends were deported; he distinguishes undocumented immigrants who work from people he considers criminals. Younger men are less engaged but do not clearly repudiate Trump. An older Puerto Rican voter, Rolando Rolón, also stands by Trump and plans to vote Republican, but praises Democratic governor Josh Shapiro. Sam counters with photos and personal testimony about Republican candidate Stacey Garrity, persuading Rolando to consider her.

Sam believes his conversations outweigh national polling: he predicts Republicans will win his local congressional district, gain seats in the House and Senate, and elect Stacey Garrity over Josh Shapiro. He points to a Facebook feed filled with Republican posts and says he saw little evidence of a blue wave. Ira’s reporting finds several voters who continue supporting Trump, but it also reveals uncertainty, nonvoting younger people, and Rolando’s willingness to split his ticket. Sam remains confident days before the election, while the episode leaves his “Oracle of Allentown” status to be tested by the actual results.