Council Bluffs, Iowa —“He has a good exit strategy for getting us out of the war with honor,” says Bob Krivanek, standing beneath a Joe Biden sign in a corner of the Kirn Junior High School auditorium. “He’s not tied to any of those lobbyist groups.” Meanwhile, his wife Brenda approaches, and he asks her — “Honey, why are we for Biden?”

This couple is as Republican as they are Democrat — Bob says that his overall second choice is Mitt Romney. But this year they’re sold on Biden — and they’ve been selling him, too. The night before, Bob and Brenda had a new neighbor over for dinner to explain how the caucuses work, and in the process they converted her from Edwards to Biden. Together with Mrs. Krivanek’s college-aged daughter, Elle Jacobs, the Krivanek crew comprises much of Biden’s support in the precinct.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

ADVERTISEMENT

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A Democrat new to the state, a 20-year-old girl at her first caucus, an effectively Republican man, and his Democratic wife: who could guess that these four would spend the next hour deciding a statewide election? The action in that room — the Democratic caucus for the 9th precinct of Council Bluffs — will become not just a microcosm of the statewide election, but a significant determiner of the outcome to be broadcast to the nation.

About 50 feet from the small Biden platoon stands a yellow huddle in the back of the auditorium — local firemen in the colors of the International Association of Fire Fighters and wearing Chris Dodd stickers. The seven of them are joined in Dodd’s corner by one woman and a schoolteacher sporting an American flag tie. Their leader is Dodd precinct captain Chris Sorenson, a fireman cited for his valor in Gov. Tom Vilsack’s 2004 state of the state address.

Bill Richardson’s group (led by the only Hispanic present) is nine-strong. In his corner, Greg Andersen, 25, knows his candidate might not be viable, but he also knows that his second choice will not be Hillary Clinton. “I for sure don’t like Hillary and her stance on the war,” he says. “A lot of her values are very close to the values of the Republican Party. They’re not close to those of her husband. They are two different people, and it makes me angry to see her using his name to get elected.”

Then there are the three super powers: Clinton, Obama, Edwards, each in their corner of the room. The opening count runs as follows:

Clinton: 52

Edwards: 43

Obama: 39

Biden: 13

Richardson: 9

Dodd: 9

Kucinich: 2

Undecided: 1

That’s just the beginning: now it’s time for the realignment. To win delegates in a precinct a candidate must receive at least 15-percent of the vote there — in this auditorium that translates to 26 people. For a few brief moments, each of the three minor camps — Biden, Dodd, Richardson — tries to persuade the two others to join them. But it is clear that none of the three will survive the night. Their supporters are told to join a viable group — or form one.

The bigger groups begin to invite them over, to chant at them as if at a football game: “HIL-LA-RY! HIL-LA-RY!”

The sing-song tones ring out: “Edwards, Edwards!” and “Join Obama! [Clap, clap, clap-clap-clap!]”.

One young woman, holding a bakery box, shouts across the room: “Do you guys want some cookies? Come to Edwards!” After several minutes, the caucus chairman calls for attention. “I’m going to have to ask for silence for a moment so that people can think,” he says.

“It’s past time for that!” one man shouts, drawing chuckles. “If you’re not for Edwards, you’re not thinking!” More laughter. It’s intense, but light hearted and polite.

In the Dodd camp, Sorenson is trying to persuade his firemen to go to Obama as a bloc. Yet his men hesitate — perhaps it bothers them that Obama’s precinct captain is Sorenson’s wife. One fireman objects: “I’m not voting for anyone else. I’ll just grab my coat and go.”