Welcome Home, Mr. McCain

It’s hard to believe that John McCain’s long slog up the nomination mountain has finally come to an end. Not only has he reached the summit of American politics, but he achieved it by defying all possible odds.

Most of this presidential campaign season’s ink has gone into telling another improbable tale about an audacious, mixed-race, backbench senator from the South Side of Chicago who came out of nowhere and pulled off a coup d’etat against the most powerful political team of our time. Unbelievable. Give credit where credit is due.

But the story of John McCain’s political nosedive and subsequent rise from the ashes is no less worth telling and celebrating.

Divine providence or the fickle finger of fate; no matter the final outcome this November, McCain’s comeback story will be talked about for years to come.

It was less than 400 days ago that we first heard McCain had not only burned through most of his campaign cash, but had shaken up his campaign staff and unceremoniously shown his campaign manager and chief strategist the door.

Freefalling and in disarray, the campaign was broke and the Arizona senator was trailing badly in the polls.

It seemed just a matter of time before McCain himself would turn off the lights and chalk it all up as another episode in his nothing-ventured, nothing-gained file.

The fall had happened all too quickly.

After being demolished by the Bush steamroller in South Carolina in 2000, McCain returned to the Senate, hunkered down, did his work and bided his time.

And, seemingly, in the early spring of 2007, that time had come.

Maverick politician. POW. War hero. Porkbuster. Beautiful wife and family. Nationally known. Who couldn’t love that? What obstacles could possibly prevent the former fighter pilot from zooming in to win the Republican nomination? Answer: Republicans.

Always considered a thorn in the side of his party, McCain not only delighted in tweaking his fellow Republicans, but did so more often than not in public.

It seemed as if every Republican had a story of some unpleasant encounter with McCain. The stories added up.

But the thing that really bothered his fellow Republicans, more than the occasional poke in the eye, was the fact that every time McCain did it, the national press ate it up, leading to more favorable coverage for McCain personally and nothing but embarrassment for the party.

It wasn’t simply temperament and style, either. McCain’s fellow Republicans, who already distrusted him because of his high-profile leadership on campaign finance reform, relegated him to a primo spot in the GOP doghouse because of his out-of-sync views on immigration reform.

At about the same time, he was seen as squandering his reputation with the war-weary press and the American people who did not get his robust defense of the surge strategy in Iraq. McCain’s political demise was soon talked about in Republican circles with hushed tones, rolled eyes and not too many tears.

At 70 years old, McCain was obviously yesterday’s news, a good man who simply missed his moment. Happens all the time. Besides, there were several other Republicans who seemed to be developing their own following: Romney, Giuliani, Huckabee, Thompson. The party faithful would pick another horse and life would go on.

But a funny thing happened as everyone prepared political obituaries for the former maverick-war hero-gave-it-a-good-shot-just-didn’t-work-out McCain. Perhaps he was just being ornery.

Maybe he was shell-shocked by his fall from grace. Maybe he was simply self-deluded. Or perhaps he drew upon those hidden verities that only someone who survived five and a half years in a Hanoi hellhole could know about.

We may never know.

But whatever it was, and whatever one’s party inclination, over dinner tables, bar stools, or in the check-out lines, the story is the same: One man refused to turn out the lights when no one would have blamed him if he had.

This evening, when John McCain climbs that stage and makes those few final steps to the podium to accept his party’s nomination for the highest office in the land, he will know, and we will know, and all those who have ever been crossed off a list, written off, or counted as roadkill will know, there is nothing more powerful than a man or woman who, against all odds, and with no one there to applaud the action, summons the courage to continue believing.