"I am extremely proud to represent the greatest district in the nation," Congresswoman Marcia Fudge (Ohio-11) said at the opening of her remarks at a public meeting billed as her First Annual Congressional District Address.
I kind of suspected that things would not go in Ohio’s mighty 11th as they have been other places in the country. We’re not that kind of district. The congresswoman also said, "We’re the most diverse district in the country," and while I don’t know if that’s true, we do have the largest black population of any Ohio district, the largest Jewish population, and one of the largest concentrations of educated and creative people. (We’re home to Case Western Reserve University — where the meeting took place — Cleveland State University and Cuyahoga Community College, the Cleveland Orchestra, the Cleveland Museum of Art and virtually all the area’s major museums from the Museum of Natural History to the Maltz Museum of Jewish Heritage). The congresswoman won election to her first term by a 70-point margin. (She did have a Republican opponent). It’s not fertile teabagger territory.
When I arrived, I saw most folks from Organizing for America, MoveOn and the health-care reform advocacy groups, passing out signs to their people, who were numerous. A single dour-looking woman in sunglasses stood across from the auditorium holding a sign that said "Kill the bill, not the patient." A cluster of anti-health-care demonstrators were gathered across Euclid Avenue in front of Severance Hall (home of the Cleveland Orchestra). One held a crude hand-lettered sign, probably left over from the original teabagging demonstration, that said "Stop spending." A real "patriot" in camouflage held an American flag and a sign reading, "Govt is sick." They were flanked — and outnumbered — by single-payer supporters, including a white-coated doctor.
Inside, CWRU’s Ford Auditorium _capacity about 500 — was packed by showtime. It’s probably not an exaggeration to say that single-payer supporters alone outnumbered anti-reform types 10-1. There were probably no more than a couple of dozen anti-reform types in the crowd and probably no more than a half-dozen vocal ones..
The event was NOT intended to be a health-care townhall meeting, but that’s what it became. There were some preliminaries — Fudge’s staff and community caucus board were recognized, and she handed out awards to "distinguished citizens" and "emerging leaders." It was pretty clear how the rest of the evening was going to go when an "emerging leader" named Zac Ponsky talked about his group Medworks, which he said brought together 2,000 health-care professions to volunteer four hours a year to treat those who wouldn’t otherwise have access to health care. When he said "At Medworks we believe need a national solution, a permanent solution but until we get that, people need help today," the place went crazy.
Although her address was not specifically about health care and dealt with other issues, including a lengthy description of where recovery dollars had been allocated in the district, it was clear health care was what was on peoples’ minds. When she said that health-care reform "will be the most important thing this congress will do" she earned cheers laced with a few boos that seemed to goad the supporters to cheer even louder. Again, when she said of the economy "We didn’t get this way overnight; we won’t fix it overnight — it took eight years of destruction," the place erupted, drowning out the lonely handful of boos.
At that point, a handful of guys started yelling. One of them screamed something about "passing a bill to kill old people." Unfazed and rock-steady, Fudge retorred, "Anyone who would believe that anyone in this country would euthanize old people has really got a problem." One of the men kept screaming, and there was huge applause as a couple of cops came to eject him.
"I don’t mind people disagreeing," said Fudge. "That is the democratic process. I will be respectful of you if you will be respectful of me."
Fudge described the things she said would have to be in the bill for her to support it: it must be deficit-neutral. It should bring down the cost of drugs, including closing the donut hole for seniors. You must never be denied coverage for chronic or pre-existing conditions or dropped from your plan when you get sick. There must be a public option.
She concluded her address and opened the floor to questions, inviting people to step up to the microphone. Every question except the last one turned out to be about health care. The questioners were a mixture of supporters, impatient single-payer advocates wanting to know why it was off the table, hostile anti-reform types spouting misinformation she patiently dismantled and people with desperate stories, wanting to know how they could be helped. One questioner was also escorted out by the cops when he refused to yield the mic.
The first person asked why, since the country is bankrupt after years of war, not spend what little is left on a single-payer system. That earned a big ovation from the crowd. Fudge responded "The president has taken it off the table. Many of us think it’s the way to go." (Fudge has signed onto HB 676).
A woman in a wheelchair said she wanted to be able to get a job without losing her coverage. Another said she was working three part-time jobs and had been turned down by 14 insurance companies. "I’ve done nothing wrong but have a family history of cancer," she said. "The only option left to me is the public option."
"If there is not a public option or something like it under another name, I will not vote for it," said Fudge to another wave of cheers.
There were several questions from medical students about the cost of their education. A critical-care nurse talked about trying to save peoples’ lives when insurance companies dropped them. She pointed to the need for end-of-life counseling, saying that she sees families who haven’t discussed such issues in chaos, fighting with each other. "When you have physicians talk with clients, it’s a blessed thing," she said.
A woman demanded that Fudge go on record that no tax dollars be used for abortion. Fudge pointed out that people would pay premiums for the public option — that tax dollars were not at issue, and said further, "I understand your point but if you are poor, you should have the same services as people who are not poor.
Another man asked why they were rushing it and Fudge said, "We’ve been working on it for 60 years." When the man said "Not 60 years but why not six months?" she responded, "Oh, it’s going to be six months. Congress doesn’t move that fast."
Another questioner complained about illegal aliens; another demanded tort reform. I was incredibly impressed by how deftly she fielded these questions. When one man asked "Do you support a bill that looks at the outcome and cost of a treatment and asks if a life is worth it?" she responded "Anyone who talks about rationing care doesn’t know what they are talking about. You’ll have more access to your doctor. If he says you need a test, you won’t have to talk to an insurance company." Several questions about the cost of the bill and the deficit showed that the questioners weren’t in the congresswoman’s league when it comes to budget issues. To one concerned about the "enormity of spending," she answered, "When George Bush became president, he had a $10 trillion surplus; he left us in the worst economic condition in decades. If we had not found a way to right the ship, we’d be in worse shape. Four million more children have health care, more people are working, more people are being fed. We’re not going to apologize for doing what we believe is right."
Another man tried to challenge her by asking if she had read the entire bill. When she said that she read her part (she’s on the health and labor committee) and that, in fact, there was no final bill to read yet, he added belligerently, "You have to understand how angry people are going to be when you vote for a bill affecting my children and a staff person reads the bill." He apparently had an accomplice because a half dozen or so questions later, another man asked "Who should be held accountable for your knowledge and your vote?"
"Me," she said, comparing her relationship to her staff to that of a doctor to his team of nurses or a coach to his players. She got a standing ovation "She’s got a backbone!" the guy behind me remarked admiringly.
That was the second to last question. Although one of her staff had tried to cut off questioning at one point, she said she’d take questions from everyone who’d gotten in line. The last person in line was young man in sandals and plaid shorts who cracked up the crowd by saying "My question is about medical marijuana." He asked if she’d push for legalizing medical marijuana on a federal level. She said she saw it as a state issue so "at this point, I’d just say no."
Many were uncertain about Fudge when she was selected to be on the ballot to replace the late Stephanie Tubbs Jones. Compared to the effusive, ebullient Stephanie, Fudge is reserved, methodical, businesslike. But she certainly proved at this forum that she can handle any bullshit argument or false facts thrown her way without blinking or equivocating or giving a wishy-washy answer. I think she’s going to work out just fine.
Adding a surreal coda to the night, when we came out, the single-payer advocates and teabaggering "patriots" outside Severance Hall had been replaced by a gaggle of LaRouchies, passing out photos of Obama with a Hitler moustache and a typical wordy brochure titled "Act Now to Stop Obama’s Nazi Health Plan!" featuring a cover photo of Obama yukking it up with Hitler. They didn’t seem to be attracting many takers.