Postcards from the edge of a most peculiar race for the White House

Presidential campaigns often produce unexpected twists and turns, but could there ever have been a stranger tussle than this year’s contest? David Millward recalls the forgotten actors in what eventually descended into an ugly, macabre farce

Bernie Sanders articulated what many felt. They had seen their living standards drop as jobs were shipped overseas. Matt Rourke / AP Photo

The American presidential campaign never ends. In fact, it is best to regard the inauguration of a president as merely a respite before the whole process starts again.

But before it does, how can we best explain what has been happening on the American political scene? How does one describe what has been an extraordinarily long and combative campaign? Perhaps I should start in New Jersey where a scandal was brewing in 2013.

At the time, it was less than halfway into Barack Obama’s second term. The “Bridgegate” scandal was no more than a traffic jam, but it effectively wrecked Chris Christie’s presidential ambitions.

Up until then Mr Christie, the state’s governor, was seen as a tough talking man of the people and a serious contender for the Oval Office. To his credit, he kept on plugging away even as the polls slipped away from him.

I caught up with him in April last year at what is quaintly described as a “cattle call” of Republican hopefuls at the Crowne Plaza hotel in Nashua, New Hampshire.

The event allowed 19 “next presidents of the United States” to press the flesh and pose for selfies while volunteers dished out badges and bumper stickers.

By then the smart money for the nomination was on Jeb Bush, who had the funds and the family name to be a red hot favourite. The only other name being talked up was Marco Rubio, the telegenic Florida senator from a Cuban immigrant family. Both men oozed authority and confidence.

Around five days earlier, Hillary Clinton had announced her run for the presidency. It was hardly a surprise.

The former First Lady was expected to sail serenely towards the Democratic nomination where she would go head to head against a conservative (but not too conservative) Republican.

Little did we know what was about to unfold. Martin O’Malley, the former governor or Maryland, threw his hat into the Democratic ring in May, a month after Lincoln Chaffee from Maryland. Bernie Sanders, a quixotic New Yorker and independent senator from Vermont, decided to have a go as well. What was supposed to be a competition in name only turned into a dogfight between Mrs Clinton and Mr Sanders.

The Vermont senator drew massive crowds. By the time I saw him in a packed arena in Portland, Maine in July he had shrunk Mrs Clinton’s lead in New Hampshire from 38 points to only eight. Supporters queued around the block for hours. They were an eclectic mix of the young and left-wing veterans of the 1960s.

The rally had the air of a revivalist meeting: “We are going to send a message to the billionaire class, you can’t have it all,” he said. Mr Sanders articulated what many felt. They had seen their living standards drop as jobs were shipped overseas. For young voters, saddled with massive student debt, even car ownership seemed like a pipe dream. He eventually won the primary comfortably.

Little did the Republicans know it, but they too were to be turned upside down by the wave of anti-establishment feeling among disenchanted blue- collar voters. Few took Donald Trump’s announcement that he was running for president seriously. This, after all, was the host of a television reality show who 15 years earlier had sought the nomination of the Reform Party.

The following January, the action began in earnest. The New Hampshire primary is one of the big events in the political calendar. The candidates were lucky that New England had the mildest winter in years, sparing them the normal thick white blanket of snow.

Hillary Clinton’s campaign stank of complacency and entitlement. I went to a smallish rally at a school in Concord, where supporters queued for hours in the cold to catch a glimpse of the woman they hoped would be the next president of the United States. The handlers promised everybody would get in. But in the end a few people were turned away because the hall was full. It left rather a bad taste.

Trump supporters tended to arrive in pickup trucks, often with the Stars and Stripes hanging from somewhere. The Bernie Sanders folk, meanwhile, included a smattering of ageing hippies and even the odd ponytail.

I tracked Mr Rubio to Exeter, a picturesque town in New Hampshire that is steeped in the history of the American Revolution. His minders were very careful to keep him away from reporters.

I saw a diffident Jeb Bush handle a rather smaller event at a riverside diner in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. It it was clear that he was unsuited for a contest that already resembled a cage fight. His decision to pull out was probably a relief.

The New Hampshire result made it was clear this was going to be a campaign unlike any other. Mr Trump and Mr Sanders, the two outsiders, won comfortably.

For the next few months Mr Sanders and Mrs Clinton fought an increasingly ill-tempered contest for the Democratic nomination. Meanwhile, the Republicans were fighting like ferrets in a sack. Finally, Mr Trump crushed his opponents, leaving a legacy of bruised egos and bad feelings. Even now it baffles me that Mr Trump and Ted Cruz did not come to blows.

Somehow the Democrats held things together. Mr Sanders, who was regarded as a saint by his supporters, fell into line behind Mrs Clinton. I was there when the official hug of endorsement came at a July rally in Portsmouth.

By the time of the Republican convention in Cleveland, the party appeared to have cobbled together some sort of unity behind Mr Trump, with establishment politicians saying they would support him, albeit through gritted teeth.

Few were prepared, however, for the implosion of the last few weeks.

While Mrs Clinton struggled to shake off the controversy over her use of a private email server, the drip feed of allegations about Mr Trump turned into a flood.

A decade old tape of Mr Trump making lewd comments surfaced. Then there were allegations of sexual harassment from a succession of women. His response was to dredge up Bill Clinton’s past and accuse Hillary of complicity.

Senior Republicans deserted Mr Trump as his outbursts became ever more intemperate. This was a man who said he could shoot somebody on Fifth Avenue and people would still vote for him.

He told a rally he wanted opponents carried out on a stretcher and even hinted that he would not be surprised if “Second Amendment people” took matters into their own hands to protect their gun rights from Mrs Clinton.

As polling day loomed, it looked as if Mrs Clinton would win, but the reopening of the FBI’s inquiry into her emails has cast fresh doubt on the outcome. Few people would bet against there being one final turn in a campaign that has been fought on the twistiest of roads.

David Millward is a journalist in the United States