Page is an American journalist, syndicated columnist, and senior member of the Chicago Tribune editorial board.
When a friend reminded me that it's almost time for the Democratic National Convention, I wanted to say, "That's OK, I'm good with the last one."
But, I didn't. I'm too much of a political junkie to ignore this level of political history while it's being made.
As a matter of historical importance, it's not the party that matters to me as much as the role these events play in making political history. But I also am a Chicagoan who cares about the city and the image it presents to the world.
As such, I felt great apprehension before the last Democratic convention in Chicago in 1996, especially in light of the fiasco that erupted during the party's convention in 1968.
Yes, the 1968 convention, in case you weren't around, was the one widely and unpleasantly remembered for violent clashes between police and protesters, a chaotic scene that set the party up for what became nominee Hubert Humphrey's loss in the fall to Republican Richard Nixon.
Fortunately, the 1996 convention came off well enough to be remembered less for the reasonably peaceful protests outside than for the sight of first lady Hillary Clinton, later the U.S. secretary of state, clapping along with other delegates doing the Macarena during an intermission.
Ah, talk about the politics of joy.
But I was sensing flashbacks to chaotic 1968 last week when about 40 people were arrested for blocking roads leading into O'Hare International Airport, one of the world's busiest, for more than an hour.
Illinois Gov. J.B. Pritzker later reassured the public that the city and state are ready to stop any disruption to the big event.
"Look, we believe in free speech, and we're going to allow people to protest," he told Dana Bash on "CNN Sunday Morning." "But the reality is we're going to make sure people have ingress and egress and that they're safe in our state."
Well, good luck, governor, and to Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson too. Here's hoping our political leaders have learned some important lessons from our past convention experiences, including the missteps.
A special commission headed by Dan Walker, general counsel for Montgomery Ward who later would become Illinois governor, famously blamed the 1968 chaos in the streets on a "police riot." The report confirmed the widespread public impression that the Chicago police, in a classic Daley understatement, "overreacted." But it also pointed out the provocations they suffered, as well as examples of police showing proper restraint.
The success of the 1996 convention under Mayor Richard M. Daley, son of Richard J., showed how much the son and the city had learned from the mistakes of 1968. It's hard to remember now, because 1996 went so well, but there was palpable nervousness beforehand.
So it is in 2024. The reasons are different this time. In 1996, what caused the angst was the pressure of exorcising the demons of 1968. In 2024, what is prompting the worry is a new generation of activists and protesters using a level of aggression we haven't really seen since the late '60s. Once again, Chicago's 1968 demons have returned to fray our nerves. It's only the issues fueling the anger that have changed.
Brandon Johnson is about as far from Richard J. Daley in terms of ideology as a mayor can get. But he is likely to be confronted with similar quandaries over how much force to allow his police force to employ. A nervous city for now can only wait for August. It won't provide any comfort to him that Daley's reputation never recovered from the brutal scenes in Grant Park.
Chicago has been hosting party conventions since the Republican National Convention that nominated Abraham Lincoln in 1860. The vast majority of those gatherings have reflected well on the city and pumped money into the local economy.
It's your turn now, Mayor Johnson. It's not that the whole world is watching, as the young protesters chanted in 1968. But a whole country will be.
(C)2024 Clarence Page. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.
U.S. President Donald Trump speaks during a“ Steel Across America” event ahead of the 25th anniversary of the Sept. 11th attacks on the Ellipse near the White House on Sept. 8, 2026 in Washington, D.C. President Trump welcomed 9/ 11 first responders to the Tunnel to Towers Foundation’ s“ Steel Across America” event featuring a 16,900- pound, 21- foot steel beam recovered.
For Trump, even 9/11 is an opportunity
There was a reason organizers of the 9/11 ceremony in Manhattan told President Trump he could not speak at this year’s memorial service.
A good one, it turns out.
Because in a speech he gave on Tuesday in Washington, he did exactly what they were presumably worried about — he made it about himself.
According to The New York Times, Trump had wanted a speaking role at the service, but the National Sept. 11 Memorial and Museum, which oversees the site, said no, as they’ve maintained for the past decade-plus that the venue and event should be nonpartisan.
Trump has long used awful tragedies to either puff himself up, trash political opponents, or sell lies to the American people.
He blamed a deadly plane crash at Washington National Airport last year on diversity, equity and inclusion policies. He blamed Puerto Ricans for the devastation they endured after Hurricane Maria in 2017. He reportedly considered withholding disaster relief after the California wildfires based on the way affected regions voted. In an interview on Fox News meant to commemorate the 75th anniversary of D-Day in Normandy, he used the occasion to slam former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi…with graves of the dead behind him.
And now, as we approach the 25th anniversary of what many New Yorkers consider the darkest day in modern history, Trump has done it again.
He told a rambling, nonsensical story — one he’s told before — about going to Ground Zero just after terrorists flew two commercial jets into the twin towers. In the story, which no one has been able to verify, despite multiple attempts, he says firefighters had to carry him out of One Liberty Plaza, also known as the U.S. Steel Building, because they thought it was about to collapse.
As CNN fact checker Daniel Dale notes, there’s no evidence Trump went into this building, especially at a time when NYPD and NYFD had locked down the area. There’s no evidence that building was collapsing — in fact, it was deemed structurally sound and reopened within two months of the attacks. There’s no evidence he was carried out of it by firefighters.
But the lie isn’t even the worst part. Pretend it was all true — why would the leader of our country, and a New Yorker, decide to make that tragic day about himself?
Because that’s who Donald Trump is. He’s a malignant narcissist.
He’s also, incidentally, a terrible and ineffectual president, who’s made ill-fated decisions that he has to keep defending, and there’s nothing he won’t do to make himself look and feel better.
Within the first two minutes of his speech, he was cravenly using 9/11 to justify and promote his dumb war in Iran — two events separated by 25 years and 6,000 miles.
“And I will tell you, we’re right now fighting because we have a certain nation that wanted a nuclear weapon, they were very close to getting it, and now they have no chance at getting it. They will never have a nuclear weapon. Iran will not have a nuclear weapon. And they’ve been punished greatly. As you know, we’ve really taken it to them.”
As a New Yorker who lived through 9/11, still one of the worst days of my life, I’m utterly sickened by Trump’s crass, political, and self-promotional framing of that awful day.
And I’m relieved he won’t be given a platform to do it again on Friday’s anniversary in lower Manhattan.
Because for Trump, everything is his for the taking, and absolutely nothing is sacred.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.