I couldn’t if I tried! Last night was in a word, dramatic. Jesse and my Council colleagues: Tito Jackson, Felix Arroyo, and myself/I, almost didn’t get into the arena. While we were waiting in line, we received word that the fire marshall was shutting the doors. Felix and I were nervously texting with the Executive Director of the Massachusetts Democratic Party, (MDP) Clare Kelly for close to an hour as we tried to wrap our minds around the problem. The MDP had blown our minds just two days before with the invitation and ask for Felix and I to announce the ballots cast for our delegation during the historic roll call of the states. And now, it looked very likely that we would not only miss an incredible night in the arena, and a personally important one for our delegation (with Elizabeth Warren on the scheduled line up) but also, as if all of that wasn’t already too much to consider, it was looking very likely we would miss the rarefied chance to proudly represent our Party and our Commonwealth in this special way. We had been nervously preparing for our close up all day, and calling family and friends asking them to tune into the DNC prime time. The scene outside was muggy, and there were some rabble rousers trying to corrupt the rest of us patiently waiting (albeit nervous) Dems. Tito likes to refer to them as the crazy uncle at the family reunion that everyone has. People were yelling, “Organize! There’s more of us than there are of them!” “Let us in, Let us in”. What can I tell you? Dems love a cause. After much prayer, many phone calls, and even some respectful pushing by Tito, (a former full back before his Council days) we made it in. I was grateful, nervous and emotional… As many of you know, I am the only child of a single parent. My mother, best friend, and personal shero, passed away a year ago from leukemia. My mother, (Sandy) affectionately referred to as “Mama Pressley” in Beantown was a faithful Democrat. The only thing she loved more than God and her baby girl, was her Democratic Party. One of her final acts of activism (before her death a mere 7 weeks later) was to change her voter registration from New York (where she had gotten re-married, and lived for a decade, we originally hail from Chicago, as you know) to Massachusetts, Ward 16 precint 8 specifically. She was so looking forward to casting a ballot for the very first time for her “baby girl”, and doing it as a Massachusetts Democrat, and one who was soon to call Dorchester (which she loved) her home. Sadly, that was not God’s plan for her… At the age of 63, “Mama Pressley” lost her battle with leukemia leaving me with a soul ache and a heart break that some days cripples me… As I finally entered that arena last night, she was all that I could think about… I’ll finish this blog later, sorry to leave folks hanging, but I’ve to get to the final MA Delegation Breakfast of the DNC.