This will be a wild weekend in New Hampshire

Something unexpected and crazy will happen in the epicenter of American politics this weekend, New Hampshire. Why? Because it invariably does.

I have covered a dozen New Hampshire presidential primaries, and with only a couple exceptions, there always are seminal moments in the last several days. Sometimes it affects who’ll be the next president, in others it shapes the election year agenda, and often it’s politically instructive.

The candidates, multitudes of media and others are in New Hampshire, where if in Manchester, 90 percent of it happens within an hour’s drive.

There are few years better to start than 1980 when George H.W. Bush, after upsetting California Gov. Ronald Reagan in the Iowa caucuses, rolled into New Hampshire with what he called the “big mo,” or momentum. Experts thought Bush would finish Reagan off as they prepared for a debate Saturday night before the primary between the two front-runners.

Four other Republican candidates showed up at the forum sponsored by the Nashua newspaper, and Reagan insisted they be included over Bush’s objections. As the moderator was cutting off his mike, the Gipper thundered, “I paid for this microphone Mr. Green.” (His name was Breen and the line was from an old Hollywood movie.)

Bush froze, Reagan was in command — the nominating fight ended that night in Nashua.

On the Democratic side, President Jimmy Carter clobbered Ted Kennedy; I remember that last weekend when my dear friend and Wall Street Journal publisher, Peter Kann came up — it beats the corporate board room — and riding in the car, Kennedy winked as he told Peter it was necessary to raise taxes on the rich.

Four years later, there was a different big mo: Democratic Sen. Gary Hart of Colorado had finished a distant second in Iowa but in those closing days captured magic in a bottle and blew by former Vice President Walter Mondale.

In 1988, New Hampshire turned its back on big mo and Bob Dole’s Iowa victory — and voted for George H.W. Bush. In a dual interview on election night, Dole, a great American, displayed that occasional dark side and sneered at his rival, “Quit lying about my record.” That was it.

In the next primary, I decided one morning to travel with candidate Bill Clinton to Claremont, more than the usual hour’s drive. Rumors circulated about Clinton and a sex scandal — talk about a harbinger — and the small press corps was stuck all day in a shoe factory as the candidate and aides huddled upstairs until an Italian radio reporter put out the report. Days later the Wall Street Journal broke a story about how Clinton dissembled on how he evaded the military draft.

The Arkansan seemed to be a goner.

In those final days, he staged a marathon campaign, promising to be with you “until the last dog dies.” He finished second — but spun it as a victory for “the comeback kid.”

In 2000 John McCain came into New Hampshire a decided underdog to George W. Bush. He relentlessly traveled the state in his bus, the “Straight Talk Express,” where he gave total access to reporters who often ran out of questions.

It all came together  those last few days as independent voters, the largest bloc in the state, gave McCain a decisive victory.

McCain mounted another comeback eight years later, while those independent-minded New Englanders decided to make Barack Obama work a little harder, giving Hillary Clinton a narrow come-from-behind victory after Obama appeared condescending in the closing debate.

I traveled that last weekend with my close colleagues, right-wing columnist Bob Novak and New York Times editor Jill Abramson — an unusual threesome. At a sparsely attended Bill Clinton event, the former president, stumping for his wife, spotted Novak — dubbed the Prince of Darkness — with a momentary look of dread. Later that day at Sen. Judd Gregg’s house party for Mitt Romney, the candidate asked Novak to come upstairs for a private briefing. The Prince insisted Jill and I come along. I’ve never heard Romney better than during those 40 minutes.

In 2016, by that final weekend it became clear that Trump, who had lost the Iowa caucuses, was on a roll. For years the major media in the state was the Manchester Union Leader with its vitriolic publisher, William Loeb. But in talking to hundreds, if not thousands, of voters over the years, I rarely heard hate spiels.

That changed in 2016.

Racist rants weren’t uncommon. Leaving a raucous Trump rally at the Manchester Arena the Friday night before the primary, a man shook his fist at me and hollered, “He’s going to take care of those (the N word and comparable pejorative for Latinos) — and whites will run the country again!”

That was a rare bad experience.

I was fine to live with lots of rich memories. Then I thought about those final weekends. I’m on my way to Manchester.

Albert R. Hunt is the former executive editor of Bloomberg News. He previously served as reporter, bureau chief and Washington editor for the Wall Street Journal. For almost a quarter-century he wrote a column on politics for The Wall Street Journal, then the International New York Times and Bloomberg View. Follow him on Twitter @alhuntdc.