Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt-Chapter 59 - 46: Paratroopers

Two days later, on Capitol Hill in Washington.

Representative John Murphy walked into Senator Daniel Sanders’s office, which was modest to a fault.

The office was piled high with books and policy reports. The only decoration was a landscape painting of the green mountains of Vermont.

Sanders was sitting behind his desk, reviewing a bill on drug prices.

"John, what brings you here?" Sanders looked up, gesturing for Murphy to sit down.

"Daniel, I’m here about something concerning the future of Pittsburgh," Murphy said, getting straight to the point.

He explained in detail Leo Wallace’s plan to run for Mayor of Pittsburgh and the challenges he was facing.

"John, that young man, Leo... he left a strong impression on me back in Philadelphia."

Sanders spoke. Instead of directly responding to Murphy’s request, he asked about Leo.

"He promised me he would turn Pittsburgh into a showcase. How’s he doing with that?"

Murphy felt the pressure. He knew his answer would be crucial.

An image of Leo Wallace’s eyes surfaced in his mind—young, yet filled with aggression. The eyes of a born predator.

He thought of Leo’s flawless political ambush at the Labor Day event and his calm, self-assured manner during their phone negotiation.

This was a politician with ability, ambition, and most definitely the means to get things done.

’Time to take the gamble.’

Murphy made his decision.

"Daniel, he’s doing better than any of us could have imagined," Murphy’s tone became serious and firm. "He’s not just some protestor spouting slogans. He’s using the federal funds we allocated to him to build a tangible, alternative economic model in Pittsburgh’s working-class communities."

"He is turning the theories we’ve discussed countless times on Capitol Hill into reality."

Sanders nodded and continued, "And you, John? What’s your take on this? Do you think he can really succeed? Or is this just another one of a young man’s impulses?"

This was the real question.

Sanders was forcing Murphy to make a clear political stand.

If he showed any hesitation, Sanders would see him as a mere opportunist trying to use Leo to win an election, and the conversation would end right there.

He had to tie his own political credibility completely to Leo’s future.

’Should I do it? Should I really bet my entire political future on this young man, right here in front of Daniel Sanders?’

Suddenly, another young face surfaced in Murphy’s mind.

It was his own.

Thirty years ago, he too had stood in a Pittsburgh union hall, facing a thousand pairs of expectant eyes.

He too had made a solemn promise to those steelworkers, fresh off their shifts and covered in grease.

He would go to Washington to fight for them, to bring the voice of the workers to Capitol Hill.

With that same fire in his heart, he too had stepped into the great swamp known as Washington.

For the first few years, he really did fight.

He proposed bills, he debated fiercely in committees, he fought for tariff protections for Pittsburgh’s steel industry.

But slowly, the Washington swamp wore down his edges.

Compromise after compromise, political trade after political trade, one endless fundraising dinner after another.

He learned all the rules of the game and gradually forgot why he had come to play it in the first place.

He grew increasingly adept at striking a balance between the two parties, and more and more proficient at securing trivial appropriations for his district.

He became a competent politician, but he was no longer a fighter.

Leo Wallace’s arrival was like holding up a mirror.

In that mirror, Murphy saw a reflection of his younger self.

That reckless courage, that audacity to challenge the entire system, that pure, unadulterated resolve to stand with the working class.

It had been a long time since he’d seen that fire in anyone, and even longer since he’d felt it in himself.

He was sixty-two years old.

The challenge of this primary was already starting to feel overwhelming.

If not for Leo, Cortes would most likely be winning the primary right now.

He knew his time was passing.

At the end of his political career, he didn’t want to become a coward wallowing in the mire, the kind of man he himself would despise.

He wanted to do something.

Something worthy of the young man he’d been thirty years ago.

He was going to make one last bet.

A bet on the young man named Leo Wallace.

And a bet on the man he’d been thirty years ago, before the swamp had swallowed him whole.

Murphy looked up, all hesitation gone from his eyes.

"Daniel, I guarantee it—he will succeed," Murphy said, his voice firm. "What’s more, his success will be the start of our success in Pennsylvania, and across the entire Rust Belt. I’m willing to stake the political capital of my entire next term to back him."

Hearing this answer, the serious expression on Sanders’s face finally relaxed.

He abruptly changed the subject to something more personal.

"I hear your granddaughter is starting high school this year? Time flies, doesn’t it."

Murphy paused for a moment, then understood. It was a signal of trust from Sanders.

"Yes, Daniel. She wants to study law. Hopes to come make her mark in Washington someday."

"Good. Young people should have drive," Sanders said. "But the political environment now is much more treacherous than when we were young. Every step must be taken with caution."

He was ostensibly talking about Murphy’s granddaughter, but he was actually reminding Murphy that supporting someone like Leo was a high-risk political gamble.

"I understand, Daniel," Murphy replied solemnly. "But I believe this bet is one worth taking."

Sanders was silent for a moment. He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the spire of the Washington Monument in the distance.

"John, this is more important than a mayoral election," he said. "This is about whether we can plant our flag again in the Rust Belt, a place where the Democratic Party is continuously bleeding support."

"This young man needs more than an endorsement. He needs a strategist who understands our long-term goals and can help him build that Pittsburgh showcase to perfection."

"I have just the right person in mind."

A few days later, Leo got a call from Murphy.

"Leo, it’s done." Murphy’s voice held a trace of excitement. "I spoke with Senator Sanders, and he’s very impressed by your decision to challenge Carter Wright."

"As a show of support, he’s decided to send one of his team’s most capable members—a young man named Ethan Hawke—to Pittsburgh right away. He’ll join your team as a volunteer and give you his full support."

Ethan Hawke.

Leo had heard the name.

He was only in his early thirties, held a doctorate from Harvard Law School, and was one of Senator Sanders’s core policy advisors.

He’d given up a seven-figure salary at a Wall Street law firm to devote himself to the Progressive movement and was hailed as a rising political star on Sanders’s team.

"Accept him," Roosevelt said at once. "Ethan Hawke’s arrival won’t just bring you top-tier policy expertise and connections to Washington’s Progressives. More importantly, he represents a formal political endorsement of your campaign from Senator Sanders himself."

"With his banner to rally under, you can truly unite the Progressive forces from all across the United States to support your fight in Pittsburgh."

Leo expressed his sincerest gratitude to Representative Murphy.

A few days later, Karen Miller and Ethan Hawke arrived in Pittsburgh.

Karen pulled up in a black BMW. Dressed in a sharp business suit, she appeared at the door of Leo’s humble modular office.

Her brow furrowed as she looked at the dusty construction site and the row of dilapidated temporary offices.

"My God," she muttered to herself. "What godforsaken place did John send me to?"

Ethan Hawke, on the other hand, had a completely different style.

He carried a backpack, wore a simple hoodie and jeans, and had arrived in Pittsburgh on a long-distance bus.

He looked like a recent college grad arriving for a summer internship.

The first thing he said when he saw Leo was, "Hi, Leo. I’m Ethan. Daniel sent me to report for duty. For the next few months, I’m your policy advisor and campaign aide. Just tell me what needs to be done."

Overnight, Leo’s small, ragtag team had received two heavy hitters parachuted in from Washington.

The team’s level of professionalism skyrocketed.