For Hubert Humphrey, politics was joy, and better days were always coming
Six a.m. in front of a factory gate in Miami, March 1972. A gaggle of droopy-eyed campaign aides and reporters. The somnolent scene suddenly springs to life. The candidate appears, Hubert Horatio Humphrey, once again running for the presidency. Smiles, handshakes, banter—only the voters are missing, since no one has shown up for work yet. No voters? Humphrey will find them. He sprints into the street, waving and calling out to passing cars: "Hi, I'm Hubert Humphrey." Drivers slow down, gaping....
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