S&R Honors: Drew Brookie and Lindsay Levin

The DNC has been a logistics task of epic proportions. And Obama’s decision, just days before the media walkthrough of Pepsi Center, to move tonight’s festivities across the Mighty Platte to Mile High Stadium, amped the volume of Debaclepalooza ’08 up to 11.

The point is that anybody whose job has something to do with making these trains run on time has been up against a challenge that’s going to look damned impressive on their résumés, assuming they make it through tonight with their sanity intact.

I want to name a couple names: Drew Brookie and Lindsay Levin (who’s bound to have a profile page somewhere, although I’m damned if I can find it – if you have a link will you post it for me?). As we’ve ramped up to the convention we’ve dealt with them and their organizing staffs on a number of occasions and their performance has ranged from “helpful and professional” on the low end to “ridiculously above and beyond the call” on the high. Our lives have been a lot easier thanks to these folks, and there’s no doubt that our ability to cover the event for our readers would have been compromised without them.

I don’t know what they’re doing once the big dance is over. But if you’re ever hiring and a résumé comes across your desk with one of those names on it, your search is over. Hire them and pay them whatever they’re asking.

1 reply »

  1. I guess you guys were’s big city enough for everyone. Yes it’s a Fox News article, however this sounds like something written by a yuppie who never leaves Manhatten.


    “Conventional Wisdom: Get Out Of Denver

    Much of the chatter on the plane home was about Denver in the eyes of New Yorkers. Let’s face it: It’s a clean, boring city that desperately needs a transportation chief and maybe a head of public safety.

    Denver was simply not prepared for a convention of this size. From the hotels to restaurants, to most especially, the lack of taxis, New Yorkers — and frankly Los Angelenos, Washingtonians, and Chicagoans — all knew we were in trouble.

    Every day began with the dread of knowing there would be long lines at the entrance to the Pepsi Center — if you could get in there within an hour. The long lines were only underscored by blazing 4 p.m. heat. You see, there is no shade in Denver. They seem to need trees and awnings. Since you weren’t allowed to bring umbrellas onto the campus, that plan didn’t work out either.

    The trip to the Pepsi Center from downtown was made worse by a significant lie: That the main hotels were either “minutes” or “blocks” away, that the Center was within walking distance. All of this was untrue, but exacerbated by too many blocked streets blocked off to vehicles, not enough vehicles, and no streets dedicated to shuttle buses, taxis, and limos during crunch hours.

    Convention goers from different parts of the country bonded on one topic at different corners: The total disorganization of the entire process. These conversations were generally had while waiting for crossing lights to change, perspiring in suits, ties, dresses, and high heels, a half mile or more away from the beginning of the long lines into the Pepsi. It was easier getting around Moscow this summer!

    Leaving the Pepsi Center when the convention was over at about 9:30 p.m. was even more of a challenge. Some 30,000 people would pour out of the building simultaneously and begin the long walk back. After crossing bridges, etc., to get back into the city, we’d find no taxis or public buses to return us to the main activities. Long walks were involved. Some brave New Yorkers — I’m not saying who — actually commandeered occupied cabs going in the right direction.

    Bob Seger wrote it, Dave Edmunds sang it: “Get out Denver, baby, go.” I never fully appreciated what that meant until now. Someone should play that song for Howard Dean.

    Meantime, here’s a personal note to the Sheraton Hotel chain: Did you not know that the convention was coming to Denver? Wouldn’t this have been an opportunity to show off your corporate pride? Would it have been too hard to replace the stained carpets in the hallways of your main building? Did the maids have to knock on the doors at 7 a.m. every morning? Did they think it was a hospital? I thought they were coming in to take my temperature.”