Was there ever a busier day in Las Vegas than last Saturday? My family attended an afternoon wedding of a long-time friend, Carlos Lopez, who took Charlene Lovato as his bride, at Our Lady of Sorrows Church. At the same time, a wedding was taking place at Immaculate Conception Church. Earlier that day, throngs turned out to honor our returning guard members. Carnegie Library celebrated its 100th anniversary; the Citizens Committee for Historic Preservation conducted its old houses tours, and about 60 youngsters performed in the evening in the Missoula Children’s Theater production of The Frog Prince.

     It’s certain that a great many people who showed up to honor the members of the 720th, after their 16 months on active duty, showed up for other events, including the arrival of John Kerry and John Edwards.
     The enthusiasm of the crowd that attended the Democratic nominees’ rally was impressive. If you work for the Journal, you guesstimate the crowd at about 5,000, far smaller than a typical West-Robertson football game. If you’re a state policeman, you put the figure at around 7,200. If you’re a member of the chamber, you make it 14,000.
     Regardless, Vegas has seldom seen such numbers investing as many as six hours in order to hear the candidates, take pictures and possibly shake their hands.
     Lines started forming along the 500 block of Grand, with the block appearing like a huge, continuous umbrella, which hundreds of people took along, inasmuch at the temperature reached the 90s and the humidity was high, thanks to a pluvial spell.
     Patiently, the crowds waited to be processed then snaked to the east side of Lincoln Avenue. There, I saw many familiar faces and heard some strange tongues.
     Hawkers were peddling Kerry-Edwards pins; volunteers were signing up more volunteers. The area took on the aura of the United Nations: some people spoke a language I wasn’t familiar with as they lined up to volunteer. A woman about 30 asked whether one needed to be a resident in order to volunteer. “I’m from Helsinki,” she said. Naturally curious, I interjected, “Oh, are you Finnish?” She replied, “No, I’m just starting.” That’s one verbal exchange that never made it to the Finnish line.
     As the day grew on and cooled off, we decided against attempting to join the spectators at the depot. Instead, I drove to the house of my birth, on the 900 block of Railroad, where a number of people–possibly some of my long-forgotten childhood playmates–lined up near the tracks to greet the candidates.
     I saw my nephew, Allen Eversull, now living in the house where I grew up. He joined me at the top of the hill and we even discussed placing pennies on the tracks, the way we used to when we were kids. But we didn’t think long. Imagine how many secret service agents might construe our action as a diabolical plot.
     Watching and listening from a distance, we warmed at the notion that Las Vegas has a lot of decent folks who show their support in this heavily Democratic area through cheers and applause. To be sure, there were Bush-Cheney supporters but no incidents.
     The night before, Bush-Cheney supporters in Sedalia, MO, shouted down Kerry and Edwards during one of the earlier legs of their train ride westward. And we also recalled the conditions under which people in the Rio Rancho area needed to operate in order to listen to Cheney: a pledge of allegiance to Bush.
     In Las Vegas, security forces, comprising city police, state police, the county sheriff’s office and even Highlands University police, kept their cool in spite of the magnitude of the job. Not only did police check backpacks, bottles and handbags, they needed to monitor traffic at a dozen intersections and interstate ramps.
     We drove to Ilfeld Auditorium to pick up family members and listened on radio as Kerry delivered his speech. Because three local stations carried Kerry live, we had choices. We settled on KNMX, whose microphones picked up more crowd noise. When the presidential nominee got really enthusiastic and the crowd responded in kind, we got to hear everything–twice.
     The first was via the radio, the second was about a second later, as it echoed through the town. Allen remarked, “I’ve heard this speech before.” Compared to the activity quotient of many other people, we hadn’t done much that day. Whether by plan or mere coincidence, Las Vegans feasted on a full plate.
     Will there ever be a day so packed with activity?
     The power of elected officials is awesome. Mayor, Henry Sanchez, for example, with a flick of his Bic pen, can proclaim virtually any day he wants: Secretaries’ Day, Veterans Day, 720th Day. But in spite of numerous “days,” we still end up with the same 365 days a year. One would think that, given the many activities, this town might be graced with back-to-back Saturdays.
    
     ?Sigh! Not one person in this whole busy bloomin’ town mentioned anything unusual about last week’s Work of Art on the visit by Dick Cheney to New Mexico. In both the headline and final sentence, I hinted at the reasons our vice president might have for agreeing to speak only to a crowd of supporters. I thought the answer was fairly obvious. At least it was obvious to me. I wrote it.