Bernard Schoenburg: Davis, a campaign co-chair, won’t say if he’ll vote for President Trump’s re-election
In a year of interesting political twists, here’s another one: U.S. Rep. Rodney Davis, R-Taylorville, is an honorary co-chair of President Donald Trump’s campaign, but won’t say if he’ll vote to re-elect the president.
“I clearly chair the president’s campaign, but I’ve learned a valuable lesson from 2016,” Davis said on a recent edition of “The 21st,” an Illinois Public Media show hosted by Brian Mackey. “Unless you tell me who you’re going to vote for up and down the ballot, I’m going to exercise the same right you and every other American has to cast my vote in the privacy of the ballot box.”
What?
The history is that a day after it was revealed in October 2016 that an “Access Hollywood” show microphone years earlier caught Trump saying he could kiss and grab women because he was famous, Davis rescinded support for Trump. He said he couldn’t vote for any candidate for president that November, and hoped Trump would drop out so Mike Pence could get elected.
“The abhorrent comments made by Donald Trump are inexcusable,” he said at the time.
But when asked in July 2018, during a visit to Roland Machinery in Springfield, if he had kept to what he said and didn’t vote for Trump, he wouldn’t say.
“There’s one thing I’ve learned in this business,” he said at the time. “I will never tell anybody who I voted for.”
He said then that he thought the president was working hard to move the country in the right direction.
He continues to say the people elected Trump, so he will work with him.
His position about not revealing his coming vote for president hadn’t changed as of Friday, spokesman Aaron DeGroot said.
Davis now, as in 2016, is the incumbent running against Democrat Betsy Dirksen Londrigan of Springfield in the 13th Congressional District.
Londrigan, in a statement when I asked last week, didn’t waffle on her choice.
“America needs leaders who will fight to protect and expand the Affordable Care Act and ensure access to quality, affordable health care,” she said. “That’s what I’ll fight for in Congress and it’s why I am proud to be voting for (former) Vice President (Joe) Biden and Senator Kamala Harris and look forward to working with them to bring our country together.”
That’s Joe
Illinois Democrats had virtual meetings each night of the Democratic National Convention last week, and U.S. Sen. Dick Durbin, D-Illinois, of Springfield, in one presentation, gave a “That’s Joe” story about presidential nominee Joe Biden.
Durbin recalled that he once asked Biden if he would mind calling the mother of Bill Houlihan – now state director for Durbin – to wish her a happy birthday.
He told Biden details, including how Vernal Houlihan’s late husband, John, had lost a leg in World War II as a Marine, had “raised a wonderful family with his wife,” and had a career including being a state representative.
“You can guess what happened next,” Durbin said. “Joe Biden got on the phone, and Bill Houlihan’s mother said ‘I didn’t think I’d ever get him off the phone. …When it was all over I felt like he was a member of the family.”
“That’s Joe Biden,” Durbin said. “That’s the real person who can bind the wounds of this nation like no other person can.”
“He talked to her for like 20 minutes,” Houlihan, who is also a member of the Democratic State Central Committee, said later. “She was thrilled.”
Houlihan saw Biden at a Democratic National Committee fundraiser a couple years later in Alton in 2012, and he thanked Biden for the past call to his mother.
“I said it made her day,” Houlihan said.
“And he says, ‘Do you have a cellphone? …. Get her on the phone.’ ”
“I called, and I said, ‘Mom, this is Bill. … Hold on a second. The vice president of the United States wants to talk to you.’ And he got on and talked to my mom for like 10 minutes. … He’s just so thoughtful and understanding and appreciative. … That’s not acting. Those are true feelings, how he has so much love for anybody in this country if he gets a chance to talk them.”
Vernal Houlihan, of Palos Heights, died in 2015 at age 93.
Bourne a donor
State Rep. Avery Bourne, R-Morrisonville, is about to help someone diagnosed with blood cancer.
Bourne posted on social media that about eight years ago, she joined the National Bone Marrow Donor Registry.
She said she had gotten the call that she is a match and will have the opportunity to donate.
“This is an exciting, humbling, and anxiety filled process,” she wrote.
Bourne asked for prayers that the recipient is strong enough to receive the donation, and also encouraged others to join the registry.
“Each day 480 people are diagnosed with blood cancer,” she said. “You could be their cure!”
Bourne, who happens to be married to DeGroot, said later she doesn’t know the identity of the recipient, but knows it is a woman with blood cancer.
Bourne said the type of donation she will do involves extracting blood-forming cells from her blood.
The registry, where people can get information and also sign up to be a potential donor, is at bethematch.org.
Big Jim
The passing of Gov. Jim Thompson, who had four terms spanning 14 years in office, has yielded a cascade of memories across the state of 6-foot-6 Big Jim.
As a reporter, I witnessed many iconic occasions – and one that sticks in my mind is the June 1981 Statehouse lawn rally that brought thousands of union members from across the state to beat back the threat of anti-labor legislation. A right-to-work bill, banning mandatory union membership at a workplace, had made it to the floor that spring under then-GOP House Speaker George Ryan, though it was soundly defeated.
The sea of people was so dense that some climbed a tree to get a view. And when Republican Thompson took the podium, people booed.
“I’ve got all day,” Thompson began, before calling out names of union locals so people could cheer to show their strength.
As I wrote at the time for The Pantagraph of Bloomington-Normal, Thompson came on folksy, telling the gathering some Democrats had opposed him speaking, but “your leadership told them to stick it in their ear. I’d tell them to stick it somewhere else but we’re on family television. …”
The governor called the gathering “the greatest demonstration I’ve seen in the state capital in the four years that I’ve been governor,” and pledged “not to let one single anti-labor bill escape from my desk with my signature.”
It turned out kegs were waiting a few blocks away, and Thompson invited people to stop by the Executive Mansion “for a beer on me.” Many took up the offer.
I don’t recall any other speech that turned a crowd the way this one did. Big Jim, the former U.S. attorney from Chicago, had become quite a politician.
Thompson, whose governorship from 1977 to 1991 is the longest in the history of the state, died Aug. 14 at age 84. His legacy, in buildings and roads and people and programs, is all around us. Condolences to the sea of people in Springfield and beyond who count Thompson as part of their own history.
Contact Bernard Schoenburg: Bernard.schoenburg@sj-r.com, 788-1540, twitter.com/bschoenburg