Conventions offer glimpse of American patriotism, ideas

Stripped to their core, national conventions are matters of business. They’re gatherings of representatives from across the country who have been designated to serve the voters of their state. Rules and platforms are adopted, nominations are formalized and party-rousing speeches are made.

Most attendees reflect the convention’s business nature – charcoal suit jackets and collared shirts, nicely pressed business dresses and comfortable shoes. But bring any large group of people together and there are going to be people who take the time to celebrate the occasion with one-of-a-kind outfits and people who want to make their voices heard but weren’t invited. And there are celebrities of various degrees.

They all have a story to tell, and the Democratic National Convention was no different.

Monday morning, Alvin Peters, dressed in an American flag-themed top hat and tailcoat, was juggling as he walked down the hallway of the convention center.

“I’m here to spread happiness and dispel doom and gloom,” he said, without missing a stride or dropping a ball.

Josie Lenwell of Taos, N.M., was one of four women dressed head-to-toe in pink, holding Free Palestine signs. She said Thursday night was her first night protesting in the convention because the group had been in other locations other days.

“We needed to be in here one night too,” she said smiling. “We’re equal opportunity protesters.”

Wearing a modified Red Power Ranger costume, Clinton Jesse of Seattle might have had the most outlandish outfit – going well beyond the carefully crafted hat. His outfit had flashing lights, glitter, silver moon boots, blow-up boxing gloves with Clinton’s campaign blue H with a red arrow taped onto them and a cape with the name Capt. Hillster.

Jesse had flown in Thursday afternoon to attend the final day of the convention. It was a full house, and he was having trouble getting out onto the floor of the convention because there were more credentials than seats.

“I can’t come all this way and not get out there,” he said, frustrated, blowing up one of the gloves that had deflated. “What’s a girl to do?”

Michael Arulfo was part of the Minnesota delegation. Somehow, he made a blue blazer with white stars, bright red pants and a candy cane-striped tie look good. He campaigned for Clinton in 2008 when she lost to President Barack Obama.

“It feels awesome,” he said in the hours before Clinton formally accepted the nomination. He said he couldn’t wait to hear Clinton’s speech. “I’m probably going to break down,” he said.

There were also thousands of volunteers at the convention.

Wearing a T-shirt with ASK ME across her back, one of those volunteers was Theresa Lubowitz from Toronto. She said she knows she won’t be involved in the voting process, but she said she was a political geek and didn’t want to miss Clinton’s formal nomination as the first woman presidential candidate. She said she had helped campaign for recently elected Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau.

“It’s a pretty historical thing and something I didn’t want to miss out on,” she said.

From talk show host and comedian Samantha Bee to former Democratic presidential candidate Michael Dukakis, mixed in among the crowd of delegates, security and volunteers were celebrities and well-known politicians.

Anthony Thompson of Charleston, S.C., wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to take a selfie with music star Wyclef Jean and his security personnel making their way through the crowd.

“This has been an awesome experience,” he said. “I had heard celebrities could be making the rounds, but it’s been surprising to see them.”

Not everyone gets into the convention, or into the secured perimeter, for that matter. Protesters outside the 8-foot-tall steel wall surrounding the Wells Fargo Center had to get off on the stop before the convention and walk. That also meant at the end of a long, hot day protesting, they had to walk back.

Morria Reynolds was one of those protesters who couldn’t get in. She was an ardent Bernie Sanders supporter and had flown in from Oregon, staying at a friend’s house just outside Philadelphia.

Reynolds said she was moved by Sanders’ message and was in town promoting a group she started called the Middle Class Army – a coalition of supporters from across the country.

“I’ve never done anything like this,” she said with wide-eyed excitement. “I wouldn’t describe myself as a protestor, but I just had to be here.”