Six hours. That’s all it took for the world to realize that Kamala Harris would not be the 47th President of the United States. Across our nation, Americans were glued to their screens, eagerly anticipating the outcome. As for me, I had the extraordinary opportunity to watch it all unfold at Harris’s official Election Night event at the Conrad Hotel in Washington, DC, alongside those who had devoted their blood, sweat, and tears to the Harris-Walz campaign.
7:00pm: My plane lands at Ronald Reagan National Airport. Watching ballots come in from early polling on the plane, I familiarize myself with each state, unable to take my eyes off the screen and consumed by anticipation. I continuously refresh the page every few minutes to make sure I don’t miss any minuscule details.
7:15pm: Miami-Dade County election results are released, showing that the county has voted Republican for the first time since 1988. Trump’s victory in the county with 11 points over Harris is a massive upset against a 36-year precedent of Democratic victories. In 2012, Obama won by 24 points; in 2016, Hillary Clinton won by 30 points; in 2020, Biden won by 8 points. Harris was projected to win the county. The fact that she didn’t feels like an omen.
7:30pm: Walking into the Conrad Hotel, I am greeted with warm smiles and eager handshakes. A lighthearted buzz radiates through the room. People seem content and even blissful. But it also feels as if everyone is trying to push the night’s upcoming events out of their minds. They’ve seen stories like this before, back in 2016, and know not to have their hopes up.
Looking around the room, every aspect of the event is meticulously organized, each item placed with intent. The blue LED lights cast a dramatic glow across the ballroom. Posters are plastered on every column with the HARRIS-WALZ campaign logo I have grown familiar with. Tables are arranged along the outer walls with slogans such as “We are NOT going back” and “I’m Speaking” for everyone to see. Souvenirs are scattered across the ballroom, designed with intent to appeal to different demographics. Immediately, I spot a familiar neon lime green button pin with “kamala” spelled out in large black block letters. It is, of course, a nod to Charli XCX’s “Brat” album cover, which has given the campaign a boost in its early days.
8:00pm: I continue to walk around the room, absorbing every detail. There is a life-sized neon sign with Harris’s face on it, a photo booth, and an Instagram photo wall. The event is clearly planned with the intention of providing a memorable location for attendees to experience a pivotal moment in our nation’s history. As everyone mingles, the optimistic, bubbly feeling in the room almost makes me forget the reason I am there.
The people in the room can be divided into four buckets: National Finance Committee, Friends and Family, high-level elected officials, and White House staff. Each person I meet describes their feelings about the night to come in similar ways. They use phrases like “feeling good.” “Optimistic.” “Positive.” Whether it is out of fear or out of a desire not to make bad luck, no person I speak with has a negative remark to share. I am under the assumption that Kamala will win by a large margin.
Every time vote tallies from new states are released, everyone crowds around and cheers. But state after state shows up red.
I ask, “Can she come back from this?” People around me reassure me that we will catch up “later in the night” and that I “shouldn’t worry.”
9:00pm: Polls close in a flurry of states, including Arizona, Wisconsin, and Michigan—163 electoral votes in total. This is a pivotal moment, and it feels like the peak of the room’s confidence.
From the beginning of the night, attendees have informed me about the “Seven States Plan” involving the seven swing states where Vice President Harris has spent most of her time in the final weeks leading up to the election: Pennsylvania, Georgia, North Carolina, Nevada, Arizona, Wisconsin, and Michigan. These seven states add up to 93 electoral votes, which can give a candidate the upper hand. A realistic goal her campaign sets is to win Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. They hope that the combination will get her to 270.
As early results from swing-state cities start coming in, showing Harris greatly underperforming President Biden, the shadow of panicked expressions flashes across people’s faces as they routinely refresh their phones. It is agony to watch.
9:21pm: Harris has 3 states. Trump has 19. The margins in rural counties keep getting bigger and bigger.
10:03pm: People start pacing and nervously fidgeting. I hear one attendee saying, “This isn’t over, this isn’t over.”
10:45pm: The room becomes heavy. People start to leave and head to the Harris campaign’s other event at Howard University, hoping they might hear her speak—but she doesn’t. The mood turns somber, and the noisy chatter dwindles into a low hum of whispers. As the room clears, I am one of only a few dozen people still attentively watching a large screen on the back wall. All mainstream news stations are on: CNN, MSNBC, FOX, and CBS, constantly updating us as the outlook turns grim.
11:04pm: California, Washington, and Oregon returns come in, showing Harris predictably winning all three, but at this point, any lingering excitement or hope has drained out of the room. The same people who were laughing and joking mere hours ago are now somber, consoling one another with hugs. Some have their heads in their hands.
“It’s not looking good, but we still have a shot,” one Democratic political operative tells me. “We have a very narrow path to victory. We shouldn’t give up.” But Harris continues to underperform in the small rural cities which turn out to be critical. As I look around the room, I see sorrowful faces and people blinking back tears. After denial, anger, and bargaining, I watch everyone around me go through one of the last stages of grief: depression.
11:35pm: After that, it all becomes a blur. I decide to go to bed, knowing that no possible combination of states can result in her victory. By the time I wake up, President-elect Trump has been declared the victor.
