Creating America: My campaign manager was Roosevelt

Chapter 49 Stage, Microphone, and the People

In those short three months, Leo's campaign team also underwent a complete transformation.

Karen Miller's polling data was delivered to Leo's desk every week without fail.

The data clearly shows that as the project progresses, Leo's satisfaction and support rates in this community and several surrounding worker communities are soaring at an astonishing rate.

Ethan Hawke systematically compiled all the results from the construction site into detailed policy reports and data charts.

They repaired miles of roads, renovated countless square meters of apartment facades, and provided countless hours of work for countless unemployed workers…

Every number is accurate and detailed, and full of persuasiveness.

These reports provided Leo with ample ammunition for his upcoming campaign.

Sarah's "Heart of Pittsburgh" faithfully records every moment of this community's transformation from ruins to rebirth.

From the arrival of the first bulldozer to the laying of the last patch of grass.

Frank then organized the hundreds of workers under his command who had participated in the construction project into a cohesive "Workers' Vanguard".

They were not just workers, but Leo's most solid ground force and most loyal advocates in the city.

"Very good, son," Roosevelt's voice echoed in Leo's mind. "You have successfully fulfilled your first promise to the people."

"In the world of politics, nothing is more convincing than a tangible success story."

"Now, your base of operations is complete."

Leo stood on the newly renovated podium in the community center.

Before him stood hundreds of residents who had spontaneously come to participate in the "community reopening ceremony," and dozens of media reporters who had rushed to the scene upon hearing the news.

All the groundwork and preparations have been laid.

Today's ceremony is not just the completion ceremony of a project; it is also a rally to mark the start of an impending political war.

The ceremony officially began.

There were no colorful flags hanging at the scene, only a huge American flag and a Pittsburgh city flag fluttering in the wind in front of the renovated apartment buildings.

Following protocol, Leo also extended an invitation to Mayor Cartwright to attend the ceremony.

However, the other party's office politely declined, citing that "the mayor's schedule is too busy to attend."

Everyone knew perfectly well that Cartwright clearly didn't want to come.

Therefore, Mrs. Margaret, as a representative of the community residents, took to the stage to speak.

She stood in front of the microphone, and her voice came through the loudspeaker.

"I was born in this community, and I lived in that gray house at the back of this street."

"When I was a child, the air here didn't smell like this. It smelled of burning coal and cooling steel."

"My mother hated the smell; she said it would get her white sheets that she hung out to dry dirty. But we kids loved it because we knew it was the smell of work, the smell of bread and roast meat on the dinner table."

"We grew up listening to the whistles of the steel mill."

"At 7 a.m., 3 p.m., and 11 p.m., the sound of the steam horn will resound throughout the entire valley on time."

"That loud and powerful sound is the clock for all of us, and our lullaby. As long as the whistle is still blowing, we know that our fathers are still working, our lives are still going on, and the heart of this city is still beating."

"I remember my father. Every day when he came home from get off work, his face, hands, and work clothes were covered in black coal dust, only his teeth were white."

"He would laugh and lift me up, rubbing his prickly beard against my face. He smelled of steel, and at that moment, I thought he was the strongest man in the world."

"Then, war broke out."

"All the men in our neighborhood went to the factories, working three shifts, day and night. The steel they produced became tanks, warships, and bombers that flew over Europe."

"At that time, we were the 'arsenal of democracy,' and we were proud of ourselves. We felt that we had won that war."

"After the war, we entered the best of times."

"The men returned from the battlefield with orders piling up at the steel mill. They used their wages to buy houses here and several brand-new Chevrolet cars."

"For the first time, a child from our next-door neighbor's family got into university. We thought those wonderful days would last forever."

Margaret's voice lowered, and she paused for a moment, as if recalling a history buried by time.

"Then, I don't know when it started, the sirens stopped."

"It started with that small factory across the river, then it was the largest factory in our community, the Homestead factory. One shut down, then the second, and finally, they all shut down."

"The smell in the air has changed. It's no longer the smell of steel, but the smell of rust. It's a damp, rotten smell that makes it hard to breathe."

"The men no longer talk about how many tons of steel they'll produce tomorrow after dinner; they start gathering in the taverns in the afternoon to talk about which factory is laying off workers and who has been evicted from their homes because they can't pay their mortgages."

"Signs for sale suddenly appeared all over our community overnight, and then they were never taken down. The young people all left; they went to California, to Texas, to anywhere they could find work, and they never came back."

"We've waited decades. We've waited for countless empty promises made by politicians before elections, we've waited for countless journalists' pitying camera lenses as they report on the poverty here, but nothing has changed."

"Our roads are becoming potholed, our parks are overgrown with weeds, and our houses are slowly rotting. We, like this community, are slowly growing old and slowly dying."

Margaret looked up and around at everything that was brand new.

Until three months ago.

"I heard the roar of machinery again, but it wasn't the sound of the steel mill; it was the sound of bulldozers and excavators."

"I smelled the smell of work again, but it wasn't the smell of coal; it was the smell of newly laid asphalt and paint."

"I saw those unemployed men in our community, putting their work clothes back on and picking up their tools again. The pride on their faces was exactly the same as the expression on my father's face back then."

She finally turned her gaze to Leo, who was standing in the audience.

"Leo Wallace, they all say you're just a young man in your twenties, but to us old bones, you remind us of ourselves when we were young."

"Back then, we were just like you, believing that as long as we were willing to take action, there was nothing that couldn't be changed."

"What you brought back was not just a federal grant, nor just a construction contract."

"What you've brought back is the soul that was stolen from this community decades ago."

"Thank you, child. Thank you for letting us believe that although the sirens will never sound again, our lives can start anew."

Margaret's voice faded.

The crowd in the square was instantly ignited.

Applause started from the first row and quickly turned into a sea of ​​applause.

This voice contained decades of grievances, a farewell to the past, and a cry for the future.

Margaret turned around and extended her hand to Leo in the audience, her eyes moist with emotion.

Frank stood behind Leo and patted him hard on the back.

"Go on, kid! It's your turn!"

The cheers from the crowd grew even louder at that moment, and they began to chant Leo's name rhythmically.

Leo walked through the crowd and onto the simple yet incredibly sacred podium.

He looked at Margaret in the audience and then bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Margaret." His voice came through the loudspeaker. "What you just said wasn't just your story, it was the story of our community, the story of all of Pittsburgh."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the faces of everyone in the audience.

"It's a story about a past of decay and oblivion, a tale filled with rust and tears."

"And today, we stand here to write a brand new beginning for this story."

He stretched out his finger and pointed to everything around him that had been completely transformed, and to the workers and residents below the stage whose faces were beaming with pride.

What did this place look like three months ago?

His voice was amplified through the microphone, echoing throughout the entire square.

"It was a wasteland where children had nowhere to play! And now, look at this!"

"Who changed all of this?"

"Not those politicians sitting in their Washington offices! Not those bankers living in luxury apartments downtown!"

He pointed to the workers in blue overalls below the stage.

"It was you! It was your own hands!"

The workers below the stage straightened their backs and burst into enthusiastic cheers.

"They said that we steelworkers should be eliminated by the times, that we are a burden on this city!"

"But today, we have proven to them through our actions that we are the true builders of this city! We are the undying soul of this city!"

The atmosphere of the speech reached its climax at this moment.

Leo's voice was full of power and resonated throughout the entire community.

"But my friends, the rebirth of a community is far from enough!"

"As long as those politicians who only care about the numbers in their own bank accounts and have long forgotten the suffering of the people remain unscathed in their city hall offices, then everything we work so hard for today could be overturned by them tomorrow with a meaningless piece of waste paper!"

"They're afraid to see us unite! They're afraid to see us change our own destiny with our own hands!"

"Therefore, we cannot be content with merely repairing our own homes; we must reclaim what rightfully belongs to all of us—leadership of this city!"

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over every face in the audience, filled with excitement and anticipation.

Then, with all his might, he shouted out the words he had been preparing for a long time.

"I, Leo Wallace, here today, before all the builders of Pittsburgh, formally declare:"

"I will be running for the next mayor of Pittsburgh!"

The words fell.

There was a brief silence in the room.

Immediately, a thunderous roar of cheers and applause erupted.

"Leo! Leo! Leo!"

People shouted his name, and the sound echoed through the sky.

Amidst the frenzied flashing lights of all the media reporters, Leo Wallace, the once penniless "keyboard warrior," the idealist once ridiculed by everyone, officially stepped onto the political stage of Pittsburgh as a powerful challenger.

Meanwhile, in the mayor's office, Cartwright was watching all of this via live television broadcast.

He looked at the young man on the screen, surrounded by countless people, raising his arms and shouting like a hero.

Looking at that young yet determined face on the screen, and at the fervent supporters behind him.

His worst nightmare has finally come true.