The chants cascaded down from the upper gym bleachers like Niagara Falls, washing away the unity Democrats hoped to unveil.
“BER-NIE! BER-NIE! BER-NIE!”
That’s the first name of the presidential candidate who dropped out on a hot Tuesday morning at Portsmouth High School, making New Hampshire the center of the political world once again.
That’s the candidate who endorsed Hillary Clinton, the one who’s vowed to help the party’s presidential nominee beat Donald Trump, the counterculture senator from Vermont who chose to step aside so all resources could focus in one direction.
It’s also the name of a man who plunged a dagger into the hearts of those who love him. Realistically, they knew what Bernie Sanders was going to say before a packed house, with Clinton standing next to him, wearing her familiar pantsuit, nodding her familiar nod, smiling her familiar smile.
Yet they came looking for a miracle from a politician whom they considered to be a miracle worker, someone they saw as having more integrity and vision than all former presidential candidates combined.
They came to hear that Sanders was continuing his fight, pushing through to the Democratic National Convention on July 25-28 in Philadelphia, where, they hoped he’d splinter off to a third party and turn the political world on its head.
“BER-NIE, BER-NIE, BER-NIE.”
“It’s really heartbreaking,” said Jayde Burgos, a 23-year-old student and nanny from Lowell, Mass., outside the school Tuesday. “It’s almost like my-boyfriend-breaking-up-with-me kind of heartbreak. He just gave up on us.”
This is not a sensationalistic approach to a column, which we in the news media are often accused of doing. I did not cherry pick Sanders supporters, seeking to inject color and spice and everything not-so-nice into this story.
I approached more than a dozen Sanders followers, inside and outside the gym, and most felt betrayed. None felt anything for Clinton, other than disdain.
In fact, only one voter, a woman named Ellen Read of Newmarket, was unsure if she’d move her allegiance to the Clinton camp. Everyone else said, “nope.” Jill Stein of the Green Party was their new choice.
“I understand the logic of Bernie leaving,” said Read, who’s running for state representative in November. “But I’m sick of the politics of fear, I’m sick of the politics of false choice. I know a lot of people will move over to Hillary, but a lot will not, and that shows how important integrity is.”
Integrity.
Since the primaries heated up last year, Sanders more than any other candidate has cornered the market on that quality. Critics wondered how he’d pay for the free college he promised, but everyone realized that his views remained consistent through the decades.
No flip-flopping. No talking from both sides of his mouth. And, more than anything else, no donations to his campaign from corporate giants.
Clinton? For her, words like integrity and trustworthy aren’t the first that voters think of when asked about her.
“Bernie is pure,” said 41-year-old Nicole Johnson, a graphic designer from Chelmsford, Mass. “He’s one of those people you want to be like. You want to hug him like your grandfather. He can’t be bought.”
Johnson’s emotions spilled out while she sat on the grass outside the school following the event. She cried, lit up an L&M cigarette and said she’d down a belt of tequila once home.
She had hoped Sanders would stay the course, saying she needed “to hear it for myself” that his campaign was done.
Burgos agreed. “I had heard the rumors,” she said, “but I really didn’t think he’d jump off the cliff.”
To Sanders supporters, dropping out and backing Clinton was an insult to what they had come to believe about him. They chose harsh language, frustrated that Sanders quit, while dumping on Clinton and her big-business backing, not to mention her involvement in more scandals than the Kardashians.
“There’s no such thing as the lesser of two evils; they’re both evil,” Henry Misserville, a retired teacher from Massachusetts, said, referring to Clinton and Trump.
And his view on Sanders?
“Very discouraging,” Misserville said. “I supported him financially. He’s lost my respect. I will vote third party.”
Sixty-year-old Peter White of Nottingham, who manages cottages near Pawtuckaway Lake, had scathing words for Clinton, saying, “She committed war crimes by bombing Libya, and her emails are just the tip of the iceberg.”
On Sanders, he said, “Up until now I thought he was a man of integrity, but he sold his soul to Wall Street Democrats.”
And so it was, a political event that blended different flavors, yet never mixed into a delicious smoothie. Democratic leaders like Gov. Maggie Hassan and Sen. Jeanne Shaheen did their best to spin the mood, make it cohesive, but their words rang hollow.
Hassan said, “What a great crowd. It’s truly an honor to welcome back Secretary Clinton and Sen. Bernie Sanders.”
Shaheen later remarked that Clinton adds “instant credibility” when talking to world leaders.
Meanwhile, banners celebrating sportsmanship, presented to the Portsmouth High athletic department, hung high on the gym wall. A woman from Chelmsford, Mass., Yonca Blum, said she thought Clinton should have been indicted for her careless emailing habits.
She stood up and gave the thumbs down during pro-Clinton speeches, disrupting speaker momentum and igniting that unmistakable chant through her section like an electric current.
“BER-NIE! BER-NIE! BER-NIE!”
A senior woman, who declined to give her name, turned around and chastised Blum, saying, “I came to listen to Bernie and Hillary and all these other people, and you are, with your voice, interfering with my hearing.”
I asked Blum about her behavior. Was she being rude?
“I might be rude,” she answered. “But I think they need to understand that we are not here to support Hillary.
“We are not here to unite.”
(Ray Duckler can be reached at 369-3304, rduckler@cmonitor.com or on Twitter @rayduckler.)