Some of them have been seen suspending large banners from freeway overpasses. Others have been spotted at busy intersections waving signs that call for revolution. And groups of them have been heard on street corners in the Gaslamp and Pacific Beach discoursing on the need to end foreign military occupation, restore civil liberties, and dissolve the IRS and CIA.
They are San Diego’s soldiers in the grassroots army of presidential candidate Ron Paul, a ten-term Republican Congressman from Lake Jackson, Texas, and they are taking on the establishment one homemade sign and one commandeered street corner at a time.
With nearly 975 members, the San Diego branch of the Ron Paul campaign is the fourth largest in the country, behind those in New York City, Austin, and Chicago. The chapters are unaffiliated with Paul’s national headquarters in Arlington, Virginia, receiving neither aid nor direction. Local members shell out their own money to print stickers and campaign literature, and they can be seen making runs to the hardware store for paper and spray paint to make their signs. They sell buttons, shirts, and Ron Paul DVDs from the beds of their trucks: DVDs for 25 cents, a button for $1, and shirts for $5.
They also hold meetings at places like the Boll Weevil restaurant in San Marcos. On January 10, some of North County’s newest members cram into the Boll Weevil’s empty dining room to introduce themselves and share their efforts with others in the campaign. The excitement from the 31 in attendance overpowers the scent of the half-pound steerburgers.
The supporters span the political and age spectrums. They range from a politically disgruntled man in his late 60s wearing a checkered flannel shirt to a 20-year-old female law student.
While a middle-aged, ponytailed gentleman peers through small rectangular reading glasses at the pages of the Citizens Rule Book — a book given to jurors to educate them on constitutional rights — Alfredo Salinas, a 24-year-old born in Mexico, listens attentively to the introductions.
Salinas is one of the few minorities in the group, and although he has permanent resident status, he is not an American citizen. But being unable to vote hasn’t stopped him and his 19-year-old brother Christian from joining sign-making parties, draping the signs throughout town, and posting amateur videos of these activities on YouTube. He characterizes his involvement as similar to holding down a second job. “I probably spend 30 hours a week,” he says. “I spend a lot of time. Even when I’m walking the dog, I’m passing out flyers.
“Ron Paul isn’t perfect,” Salinas continues. “I don’t agree with him on everything. I don’t agree with him on the birth-right issue.” Paul proposes to stop granting citizenship to babies born in the United States if their parents are here illegally.
“I do agree with him on civil liberties and the war and the no-IRS thing.”
When asked what other Ron Paul supporters think of him, Salinas chuckles. “The Ron Paul people are all kinds of different people. I’ve met some Minutemen, and you know, I disagree with them. Immigration is a very hard topic, you know. We agree on the war issue and the civil liberties. I agree with them on some things, but I don’t agree with them on others. Nobody is perfect.”
Standing at the front of the room, beneath a deer’s head and an old shotgun mounted on the wall, Mike Benoit, the organizer of the San Diego campaign, listens to the newcomers introduce themselves. Benoit’s relaxed demeanor and shaggy, disheveled appearance belie the sage and seasoned political activist that he is. A member of the Libertarian Party for over 17 years, he has run against Duncan Hunter in every race since 2000 to represent the 52nd Congressional District, which includes La Mesa, El Cajon, and Lakeside.
The reason for Benoit’s political involvement is frustration. “The message that we all seemed to be hearing was to choose from big socialist government A or big socialist government B. There was no message about limited government or individual liberty.”
A male law student, sitting behind an extra-large glass of beer, is suggesting ways to approach fellow San Diegans with the Ron Paul message. “Dr. Paul’s positions are very nuanced. So you want to feel out where they’re coming from and try and put it into the light that will be best for them. For example, on immigration there’s a thousand ways you can put Paul’s position, 500 of them are sure to piss off liberals and 500 of them will make liberals love him, and none of them are lies.”
Benoit informs the newcomers of the strategy used for the campaign. “First the Internet, then the streets, and then everywhere!” The grassroots organization uses four methods: Internet, sign waving and hanging, precinct walking, and additional creative efforts such as flying a Ron Paul mini-blimp and holding a rally at the Organ Pavilion in Balboa Park.
The Internet is an important facet of the Paul campaign. The national campaign’s official website, ronpaul2008.com, displays on its home page a running tally of the amount of money collected during the current quarter and a countdown to primary election dates. The webpage has links to information on how to join up and how to become one of the country’s 180,000 precinct leaders as well as links to YouTube videos. Google has also played an integral part in informing potential Paul supporters on a national level.
The Internet is equally valuable to the local Paul campaign. The chapter’s website, ronpaul.meetup.com/93, is laid out in similar fashion to popular social networking sites. It serves as the line of communication, informing supporters of upcoming meetings and events and allowing fellow members easy access to one another.
The centerpiece for the home page is a quote from Thomas Jefferson: “I have sworn upon the altar of God, eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.” The site features a schedule of past and future “meet-ups” and links to Mike Benoit’s current run for Congress and the San Diego Libertarian Party. Each day a number of emails with Ron Paul updates, event reminders, and news pertinent to the campaign are sent out to members. Supporters are encouraged to upload pictures as well as make their own personalized page, but more important, all are urged to find and invite new members.
Benoit says that although the Internet plays a fundamental role in the local campaign, there are problems with depending solely on the Web. “There are people that you would never reach on the Internet,” he points out. “But someone can see a banner on the freeway, googles it, and checks out Ron Paul and likes it, then he has a whole different circle of friends that would not be connected to these other people.”
Ron Paul’s San Diego campaign headquarters is in Mike Benoit’s office, located in a small strip mall on Cuyamaca Street in Santee. On a Friday afternoon in the narrow parking lot, six young white males wearing face masks and latex gloves spray paint Ron Paul stencils on Tyvek paper rolls. Some of them sip on the patriotic brew Samuel Adams, supplied from a small refrigerator inside Benoit’s compact office. They make the signs in assembly-line fashion, and in a couple of hours’ time, over 50 posters are rolled up and ready to be hung.
When asked where the signs are headed, a few members simultaneously respond, “Everywhere.” One anonymous supporter adds, “I’ve been doing signs for a long time, and I haven’t been caught or anything. I’ve [hung] them at all times. I’ve even had cops drive by when I’m hanging them, and they just drive by.”
As the supporters wipe the sweat from their brows and stretch the kinks from their backs, they echo each other’s thoughts about what the Paul campaign stands for and laugh in disbelief at how uninformed and unaware mainstream America has become.
A few nights later, the Pacific Beach Bar and Grill is hosting an event for the season opener of American Idol. Marcus Rivchin, who’s 38, sits with other Ron Paul members, there to recruit new supporters. A Ron Paul sign perches on a ledge beside their table next to a row of flat-screen televisions, all tuned to America’s favorite talent show. While the group seems more focused on munching appetizers, sipping on draught beers, and talking everything Ron Paul than on recruiting new members, each becomes visibly distraught when a news crew from the local Fox affiliate arrives to film the crowd’s reaction to American Idol.
As a reporter interviews people at a nearby table, Rivchin runs over and thrusts his Ron Paul sign in front of the camera. A few people in the room boo.
“Are you serious?” yells one of Paul’s frustrated supporters. “American Idol? It just goes to show what we’re dealing with.” A moment later, as the film crew departs, she runs up to discuss the matter with them.
While the Internet and signs are important to the Paul campaign, precinct walking — campaigning door-to-door — is another significant aspect. Before walking a precinct in an upper-class neighborhood in Sorrento Valley, Elizabeth Blane, a 56-year-old business and life coach, checks her makeup in a downstairs mirror of her two-story home. Her house is as tidy as her appearance. She grabs a stack of Ron Paul literature — each piece has a personal greeting stapled to the front — and walks out into the warm January day. She says that precinct walking is “energizing and invigorating.”
As she approaches the first house, she glances at her precinct list, which tells her the residents’ registered party and whether they’ve voted in recent elections. She crosses off the address as she walks up to the front door.
After ringing the bell, Blane stands poised as sounds emanate from inside the house. She clears her throat just before a man with a heavy build opens the door.
She greets her neighbor by introducing herself. She informs him that she is out campaigning for Ron Paul. The man, who asks to remain anonymous, immediately lets Blane know that his main concern is immigration. “Without immigration taken care of, then I don’t think anything is possible,” he says. “It affects everything.”
“Exactly,” Blane responds. She directs the man to the Ron Paul website and hands him a brochure on Paul’s beliefs regarding stricter immigration laws.
Blane says she tries to make each stop as brief but informative as possible. “Dr. Paul is so prolific and his stances are so nuanced. He’s an expert on so many different issues that I couldn’t possibly begin to explain all of them.”
San Diego Paul supporters have adopted other strategies in their attempts at getting the word out about their candidate. This Saturday, February 2, supporters have rented out the Organ Pavilion in Balboa Park for the largest meeting yet planned for the local campaign.
The event, which is slated to start at 12:45, will feature a yet-to-be-determined band and guest speakers. According to Brent Garcia, a 20-year-old long-haired Paul activist, “We aren’t sure if Paul will be able to make it. We know that he will be in the general area, so there’s kind of a chance that he will be coming. We won’t know for sure until the last moment.”
The rally will last until 5:00. Marches are planned going into the event and leaving it afterwards.
And while the supporters are not sure if Paul will show, they are sure to have their 20-foot mini-blimp at the event. The white helium balloon — shaped like a blimp, with “Who is Ron Paul?” written in big red letters — can usually be seen hovering above I-5 near Lindbergh Field’s landing path. The lines that secure the Ron Paul blimp are anchored at a house near the corner of Laurel and Columbia streets in Middletown. Manny Castro, a business broker, offered his house as the home for the blimp. Castro, like so many of the other Ron Paul supporters, has never before been involved in a political campaign.
When asked what his family and neighbors think of the blimp, Castro says, “My wife loves it. She was on TV! And all my neighbors love it. Some of them come up or honk when they go by. I’ve had absolutely no negative response whatsoever.”
The money to buy the blimp — nearly $2000, plus an additional $150 for the helium required for filling it — was raised collectively by the group.
“I think that it is very effective. Probably tens of thousands of people see it every day. I think that it is the best location for it in San Diego.”
Although San Diego supporters are doing their best to spread the word about Ron Paul, their enthusiasm and energy may have given them a false sense of optimism. Ron King, chair of the political science department at SDSU, is brief but emphatic regarding Paul’s chances of getting the Republican nomination or the presidency. There have been “no successful grass roots presidential candidates in the recent era,” he says via email, and there is “no possibility of a grass roots national-level candidate today.”
Even some of Ron Paul’s supporters agree that the Paul campaign doesn’t have much chance for success, though for different reasons. Abby Martin, the 23-year-old organizer of the San Diego 9/11 Truth group, says, “The last two elections have had serious vote fraud, and I don’t think this election will be any different. Ron Paul would never be allowed to win the presidency. There is too much at stake with all of our control and policies that have been implemented to let Paul in and create revolutionary change.”
The group remains energetically optimistic. Most supporters are convinced that Paul will run as an independent if the Republican nomination does not pan out. The events calendar of the San Diego Ron Paul campaign is filled six days a week.
Some of them have been seen suspending large banners from freeway overpasses. Others have been spotted at busy intersections waving signs that call for revolution. And groups of them have been heard on street corners in the Gaslamp and Pacific Beach discoursing on the need to end foreign military occupation, restore civil liberties, and dissolve the IRS and CIA.
They are San Diego’s soldiers in the grassroots army of presidential candidate Ron Paul, a ten-term Republican Congressman from Lake Jackson, Texas, and they are taking on the establishment one homemade sign and one commandeered street corner at a time.
With nearly 975 members, the San Diego branch of the Ron Paul campaign is the fourth largest in the country, behind those in New York City, Austin, and Chicago. The chapters are unaffiliated with Paul’s national headquarters in Arlington, Virginia, receiving neither aid nor direction. Local members shell out their own money to print stickers and campaign literature, and they can be seen making runs to the hardware store for paper and spray paint to make their signs. They sell buttons, shirts, and Ron Paul DVDs from the beds of their trucks: DVDs for 25 cents, a button for $1, and shirts for $5.
They also hold meetings at places like the Boll Weevil restaurant in San Marcos. On January 10, some of North County’s newest members cram into the Boll Weevil’s empty dining room to introduce themselves and share their efforts with others in the campaign. The excitement from the 31 in attendance overpowers the scent of the half-pound steerburgers.
The supporters span the political and age spectrums. They range from a politically disgruntled man in his late 60s wearing a checkered flannel shirt to a 20-year-old female law student.
While a middle-aged, ponytailed gentleman peers through small rectangular reading glasses at the pages of the Citizens Rule Book — a book given to jurors to educate them on constitutional rights — Alfredo Salinas, a 24-year-old born in Mexico, listens attentively to the introductions.
Salinas is one of the few minorities in the group, and although he has permanent resident status, he is not an American citizen. But being unable to vote hasn’t stopped him and his 19-year-old brother Christian from joining sign-making parties, draping the signs throughout town, and posting amateur videos of these activities on YouTube. He characterizes his involvement as similar to holding down a second job. “I probably spend 30 hours a week,” he says. “I spend a lot of time. Even when I’m walking the dog, I’m passing out flyers.
“Ron Paul isn’t perfect,” Salinas continues. “I don’t agree with him on everything. I don’t agree with him on the birth-right issue.” Paul proposes to stop granting citizenship to babies born in the United States if their parents are here illegally.
“I do agree with him on civil liberties and the war and the no-IRS thing.”
When asked what other Ron Paul supporters think of him, Salinas chuckles. “The Ron Paul people are all kinds of different people. I’ve met some Minutemen, and you know, I disagree with them. Immigration is a very hard topic, you know. We agree on the war issue and the civil liberties. I agree with them on some things, but I don’t agree with them on others. Nobody is perfect.”
Standing at the front of the room, beneath a deer’s head and an old shotgun mounted on the wall, Mike Benoit, the organizer of the San Diego campaign, listens to the newcomers introduce themselves. Benoit’s relaxed demeanor and shaggy, disheveled appearance belie the sage and seasoned political activist that he is. A member of the Libertarian Party for over 17 years, he has run against Duncan Hunter in every race since 2000 to represent the 52nd Congressional District, which includes La Mesa, El Cajon, and Lakeside.
The reason for Benoit’s political involvement is frustration. “The message that we all seemed to be hearing was to choose from big socialist government A or big socialist government B. There was no message about limited government or individual liberty.”
A male law student, sitting behind an extra-large glass of beer, is suggesting ways to approach fellow San Diegans with the Ron Paul message. “Dr. Paul’s positions are very nuanced. So you want to feel out where they’re coming from and try and put it into the light that will be best for them. For example, on immigration there’s a thousand ways you can put Paul’s position, 500 of them are sure to piss off liberals and 500 of them will make liberals love him, and none of them are lies.”
Benoit informs the newcomers of the strategy used for the campaign. “First the Internet, then the streets, and then everywhere!” The grassroots organization uses four methods: Internet, sign waving and hanging, precinct walking, and additional creative efforts such as flying a Ron Paul mini-blimp and holding a rally at the Organ Pavilion in Balboa Park.
The Internet is an important facet of the Paul campaign. The national campaign’s official website, ronpaul2008.com, displays on its home page a running tally of the amount of money collected during the current quarter and a countdown to primary election dates. The webpage has links to information on how to join up and how to become one of the country’s 180,000 precinct leaders as well as links to YouTube videos. Google has also played an integral part in informing potential Paul supporters on a national level.
The Internet is equally valuable to the local Paul campaign. The chapter’s website, ronpaul.meetup.com/93, is laid out in similar fashion to popular social networking sites. It serves as the line of communication, informing supporters of upcoming meetings and events and allowing fellow members easy access to one another.
The centerpiece for the home page is a quote from Thomas Jefferson: “I have sworn upon the altar of God, eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.” The site features a schedule of past and future “meet-ups” and links to Mike Benoit’s current run for Congress and the San Diego Libertarian Party. Each day a number of emails with Ron Paul updates, event reminders, and news pertinent to the campaign are sent out to members. Supporters are encouraged to upload pictures as well as make their own personalized page, but more important, all are urged to find and invite new members.
Benoit says that although the Internet plays a fundamental role in the local campaign, there are problems with depending solely on the Web. “There are people that you would never reach on the Internet,” he points out. “But someone can see a banner on the freeway, googles it, and checks out Ron Paul and likes it, then he has a whole different circle of friends that would not be connected to these other people.”
Ron Paul’s San Diego campaign headquarters is in Mike Benoit’s office, located in a small strip mall on Cuyamaca Street in Santee. On a Friday afternoon in the narrow parking lot, six young white males wearing face masks and latex gloves spray paint Ron Paul stencils on Tyvek paper rolls. Some of them sip on the patriotic brew Samuel Adams, supplied from a small refrigerator inside Benoit’s compact office. They make the signs in assembly-line fashion, and in a couple of hours’ time, over 50 posters are rolled up and ready to be hung.
When asked where the signs are headed, a few members simultaneously respond, “Everywhere.” One anonymous supporter adds, “I’ve been doing signs for a long time, and I haven’t been caught or anything. I’ve [hung] them at all times. I’ve even had cops drive by when I’m hanging them, and they just drive by.”
As the supporters wipe the sweat from their brows and stretch the kinks from their backs, they echo each other’s thoughts about what the Paul campaign stands for and laugh in disbelief at how uninformed and unaware mainstream America has become.
A few nights later, the Pacific Beach Bar and Grill is hosting an event for the season opener of American Idol. Marcus Rivchin, who’s 38, sits with other Ron Paul members, there to recruit new supporters. A Ron Paul sign perches on a ledge beside their table next to a row of flat-screen televisions, all tuned to America’s favorite talent show. While the group seems more focused on munching appetizers, sipping on draught beers, and talking everything Ron Paul than on recruiting new members, each becomes visibly distraught when a news crew from the local Fox affiliate arrives to film the crowd’s reaction to American Idol.
As a reporter interviews people at a nearby table, Rivchin runs over and thrusts his Ron Paul sign in front of the camera. A few people in the room boo.
“Are you serious?” yells one of Paul’s frustrated supporters. “American Idol? It just goes to show what we’re dealing with.” A moment later, as the film crew departs, she runs up to discuss the matter with them.
While the Internet and signs are important to the Paul campaign, precinct walking — campaigning door-to-door — is another significant aspect. Before walking a precinct in an upper-class neighborhood in Sorrento Valley, Elizabeth Blane, a 56-year-old business and life coach, checks her makeup in a downstairs mirror of her two-story home. Her house is as tidy as her appearance. She grabs a stack of Ron Paul literature — each piece has a personal greeting stapled to the front — and walks out into the warm January day. She says that precinct walking is “energizing and invigorating.”
As she approaches the first house, she glances at her precinct list, which tells her the residents’ registered party and whether they’ve voted in recent elections. She crosses off the address as she walks up to the front door.
After ringing the bell, Blane stands poised as sounds emanate from inside the house. She clears her throat just before a man with a heavy build opens the door.
She greets her neighbor by introducing herself. She informs him that she is out campaigning for Ron Paul. The man, who asks to remain anonymous, immediately lets Blane know that his main concern is immigration. “Without immigration taken care of, then I don’t think anything is possible,” he says. “It affects everything.”
“Exactly,” Blane responds. She directs the man to the Ron Paul website and hands him a brochure on Paul’s beliefs regarding stricter immigration laws.
Blane says she tries to make each stop as brief but informative as possible. “Dr. Paul is so prolific and his stances are so nuanced. He’s an expert on so many different issues that I couldn’t possibly begin to explain all of them.”
San Diego Paul supporters have adopted other strategies in their attempts at getting the word out about their candidate. This Saturday, February 2, supporters have rented out the Organ Pavilion in Balboa Park for the largest meeting yet planned for the local campaign.
The event, which is slated to start at 12:45, will feature a yet-to-be-determined band and guest speakers. According to Brent Garcia, a 20-year-old long-haired Paul activist, “We aren’t sure if Paul will be able to make it. We know that he will be in the general area, so there’s kind of a chance that he will be coming. We won’t know for sure until the last moment.”
The rally will last until 5:00. Marches are planned going into the event and leaving it afterwards.
And while the supporters are not sure if Paul will show, they are sure to have their 20-foot mini-blimp at the event. The white helium balloon — shaped like a blimp, with “Who is Ron Paul?” written in big red letters — can usually be seen hovering above I-5 near Lindbergh Field’s landing path. The lines that secure the Ron Paul blimp are anchored at a house near the corner of Laurel and Columbia streets in Middletown. Manny Castro, a business broker, offered his house as the home for the blimp. Castro, like so many of the other Ron Paul supporters, has never before been involved in a political campaign.
When asked what his family and neighbors think of the blimp, Castro says, “My wife loves it. She was on TV! And all my neighbors love it. Some of them come up or honk when they go by. I’ve had absolutely no negative response whatsoever.”
The money to buy the blimp — nearly $2000, plus an additional $150 for the helium required for filling it — was raised collectively by the group.
“I think that it is very effective. Probably tens of thousands of people see it every day. I think that it is the best location for it in San Diego.”
Although San Diego supporters are doing their best to spread the word about Ron Paul, their enthusiasm and energy may have given them a false sense of optimism. Ron King, chair of the political science department at SDSU, is brief but emphatic regarding Paul’s chances of getting the Republican nomination or the presidency. There have been “no successful grass roots presidential candidates in the recent era,” he says via email, and there is “no possibility of a grass roots national-level candidate today.”
Even some of Ron Paul’s supporters agree that the Paul campaign doesn’t have much chance for success, though for different reasons. Abby Martin, the 23-year-old organizer of the San Diego 9/11 Truth group, says, “The last two elections have had serious vote fraud, and I don’t think this election will be any different. Ron Paul would never be allowed to win the presidency. There is too much at stake with all of our control and policies that have been implemented to let Paul in and create revolutionary change.”
The group remains energetically optimistic. Most supporters are convinced that Paul will run as an independent if the Republican nomination does not pan out. The events calendar of the San Diego Ron Paul campaign is filled six days a week.
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