Fellow Patriots,
Forgive me for telling this story so late following the events of last Friday, but as our campaign winds down the rest of my life (work,work, work) has been catching up with me. But this story tickles me, and I just wanted to share it with all of you. For context, you should be familiar with Jim McCabe's post on the campaign blog, "Nadler Operatives Nuke Sullivan Petitions."
With the challenges to our petitions coming from the Nadler camp, and the prima facie finding by the BoE that I am not a properly enrolled Democrat, notification of a hearing at the Kings County Supreme Court had been issued. Having received the notification, I contacted our legal counsel for one last piece of advice: "Should I go to this hearing, and if so, what should I say?" Our counsel had made clear earlier that we stood no real chance of being on the ballot, and that to default on the hearing would simply confirm a withdrawal of my candidacy. He had also mentioned, though, that going to the hearing might offer an opportunity to grandstand one last time on the impeachment issue. (Sometimes the press is there, he said.)
While I was not certain about how appropriate it would be to grandstand at the hearing, I decided to attend the hearing after discussion with Sharon. What concerned me most was the implication in the Nadler camp's petition that our petitions were possibly "fraudulent." I did not want to be exposed legally, if my failure to appear in court were seen as a tacit admission of fraud; but more importantly, I felt that those who had signed our petitions deserved to be represented, and that they did not deserve to have their wishes dismissed as though part of some political hoax.
Truth be told, I was very nervous to go. I had, in fact, already had to default on one hearing (on a working day for me), which was rescheduled and I could not be sure how the judge would view that. I imagined that it would most likely go smoothly, but I understood that the wrong judge on the wrong day could make my life difficult or worse. Our legal counsel had never mentioned anything like the possibility of a fine, but my imagination was beginning to run away with me. I was most concerned that I and/or the campaign could be left open to future legal complications, litigation, etc.
What happened was something like the opposite.
The hearing was rather informal (as Sharon describes it, "a conference table with an audience"), and the judge a friendly, avuncular and kind-hearted Orthodox Jew named Smith. As I took my place in front of him, three (3!) men in suits sat down opposite me, representing Cooper and Jacobson, Nadler's plaintiffs. One was the lawyer from Stroock, Stroock and Lavan, another introduced himself as general counsel for the BoE (!) and the third...I have no idea who was the third. Another lawyer. The title of Jim's blog was ringing in my head--Nadler's operatives were once again going nuclear. One lawyer would have sufficed, but here were three.
I introduced myself to the judge, whereupon he extended his hand to shake mine. I did, then proceeded to offer my hand to the lawyer (named Goldfeder, I think) from SS&L. I was determined to smile and stay friendly. (After all, I was walking in there to concede, not to fight--but did Nadler's people know it?) The judge then remarked, "Oh, you're the candidate?" I said yes, and he shook my hand again.
Emboldened by his friendliness and apparent good nature, I offered an apology to the judge for missing the first hearing. He said that, well, I was lucky that he was the judge, because he rescheduled the hearing instead of just saying that I'm "out". I smiled and remarked, "I think I'm 'out' anyway." He said, "Well, now you'll be 'out' on the substance, instead of on the procedure."
At this point, mind you, the judge had hardly said a word to the three important men in suits on my right. This would continue for most of the hearing, which was probably not more than four minutes in length.
The judge asked me first for a description of the situation. I told him briefly about how we had discovered that I was not correctly enrolled as a Democrat, and that I understood that this means that I will not be on the ballot. Then the judge blew my mind. Rather than a perfunctory response, or some admonishment for conducting an irresponsible campaign, he said, "I'm sorry."
"Well, I'm sorry," he said, "because I know what it's like to go through collecting all of those signatures."
I was smiling, and my eyes practically welling up, as I responded, "Actually, your honor, that was my favorite part of the campaign. It was a privilege going out and speaking to the constituents about what we were trying to do."
"Well, I wish you good luck," he finished. Then he turned to the guys-in-suits, and asked if they would withdraw their petition "without prejudice". They said, "yes." There it was, on the record, that our campaign was over, yes, but without any intimation of fraud. That was it. I thanked the judge, and he shook my hand, smiling, for a third time. Then I shook the lawyer's hand again, grabbed my bag and headed for the door.
I had to get out fast, because I was suppressing giggles. I could not help but think that the three important guys in suits must be a bit deflated. After all, not only did they not get to say what a bad guy I am and how fraudulent/invalid my candidacy is, heck, the judge barely even addressed them. He chit-chatted with me for a few minutes, and suddenly it was all over but the ride back to Manhattan.
I still have an overall feeling of unfinished business regarding this campaign, and probably always will. But keeping perspective requires making the most of the smallest victories. It may not mean much ultimately, but to me it feels wonderful knowing that the Nadler camp probably spent a small fortune in legal fees to nuke our campaign, a campaign which we all know now was DOA. I love that the three suits were clearly puffed up with self-importance, operatives of the Nadler electoral strategy, only to find that at least two of them didn't need to be there. If none of them had shown up, it might have gone down the same way.
I know this buys us nothing for impeachment, but it meant everything to me to be able to walk away from that hearing laughing. It was a reminder that justice does exist, even if it is only portioned out in small amounts, and that the straw men who think they run the world can be reminded occasionally that they do not. There are mechanisms of this universe which benefit the smallest of us, though some days it may seem otherwise.
I give thanks to God for small favors.
Power to the People,
Adam
