Barack Obama really didn't need a victory in West Virginia. He was already well on his way to wrapping up the Democratic nomination, and the 28 delegates at stake were not going to change that picture, no matter how that primary came out.
But he should have competed there, if only to signal his awareness of its special place in Democratic history. Forty-eight years ago, it was West Virginia more than any other state that propelled John Kennedy into the White House. And it did so in a way that Obama should have wanted to emulate.
Admittedly, I have a bias. That 1960 primary race between Kennedy and Hubert Humphrey was my introduction to presidential politics. As a new reporter at the Washington Star, I did not get to Wisconsin for the first round of the Kennedy-Humphrey battle. But I didn't miss much. Kennedy won the Catholic areas of the state, including Milwaukee, Racine, Kenosha and the Fox River Valley. Humphrey dominated the Protestant farm counties from the middle of the state to the Minnesota border.
With Democratic leaders trying to gauge whether Kennedy would fall victim to the same prejudice that undercut Al Smith, the first Catholic nominee, in 1928, Wisconsin gave no clear answer.
So the two young senators packed their bags and headed for West Virginia.
That
state seemed made-to-order for Humphrey. Chronically poor, its residents relied on New Deal programs to survive. A former Klan redoubt, many of its voters were suspicious of Catholics. The mineworkers and other unions were solidly in Humphrey's corner. The state's main power broker, Sen. Robert Byrd, was backing Humphrey in hopes of blocking Kennedy and opening the way for his friend Lyndon Johnson to jump into the race and capture the nomination at the Los Angeles convention.
Despite the odds, Kennedy did not hesitate. In reality, he had no choice but to tackle Humphrey in West Virginia; only by winning there could he persuade the men who controlled state delegations from California to New York to give him a chance.
Kennedy had two resources he could deploy. He was rolling in money, thanks to his father's wealth, and money talked in West Virginia. The custom was that whoever was most generous would find himself "slated" by the local Democratic organizations. When I got to Beckley, the coal-mining city where the Star sent me to examine the battle on the ground, I found that the Raleigh County sheriff, nominally supporting Humphrey, had decided -- for unexplained reasons -- that it was not in his interest to turn out a big vote against Kennedy.
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