#RNCinCLE: Our adventures with Uber
The Enquirer has a team of nine journalists in Cleveland for the Republican National Convention. Getting from place to place has often required using car-sharing services like Uber or Lyft. And boy, did the team have some stories to tell:
Jeremy Fugleberg, 2016 politics reporter: “I don’t talk politics,” said a young Hispanic driver. Then he spent the entire ride talking politics. He considers himself a Democrat but is really on the fence about who to vote for. He doesn’t like Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton, he said. Everyone he knows hates Donald Trump, but the driver's selection will be a game-time decision in the voting booth. He then told me how everything Trump talks about resonates with him, and ends with this: “I’m a man of faith, and nowhere in the Bible is a woman in charge. Nowhere. The man is to lead. So that’s something I’ll have to struggle with. But I know God can do anything …”
Jessie Balmert, Statehouse reporter: My Uber driver, who works at the Cuyahoga County Board of Developmental Disabilities, said he followed some people from The Enquirer on Twitter. “Are you Chrissie Thompson?" he asked, referring to The Enquirer's Capital Bureau Chief.
“No. She’s my colleague. My name is Jessie Balmert.”
“Oh, I follow you, too.”
Fugleberg: An older gentleman picked me up, and we did the usual small talk about business and route before we lapsed into silence, a Cleveland Indians game on the radio serving as a quiet background rumble. It felt awkward, so I took a stab at a conversation, looking out my window. “Looks like a full moon,” I said.
In response, the driver turned up the sound on his baseball game.
Carl Weiser, politics editor: My Lyft driver one night was a self-described pro-life, atheist libertarian who discoursed on the differences between Gary Johnson's "capital L" libertarianism and that of "small l libertarian" Austin Petersen.
Carrie Cochran (riding with fellow photojournalist Meg Vogel): Our Thursday Uber drive started with a friendly debate as to which city was better: Cleveland (one vote from our Uber driver) and Cincinnati (two votes from the two Cincinnati Enquirer photojournalists he was shuttling.) Our driver’s son attends the University of Cincinnati, and it eventually came out that the area surrounding campus was his only experience with our fine city. We urged him to check out downtown, the river, and Over-the-Rhine the next time he came down, and let him know that Cincinnati is full of history.
He must’ve been in a competitive mood. “Well, I’m from Egypt. You may have a couple hundred years of history. We have thousands,” he said, triumphantly.
Whelp, you can’t argue with that.
“I’m not going to vote for either of them: Hillary, or Donald,” he said. "But I think Donald is right. Muslims are ruining the country and shouldn’t be let in.”
He was happy to be in America, where he was safe. He was a Coptic Christian, and he said that his people were persecuted because of their religion in Egypt.
My colleague, Meg, and I were silent. I pondered the irony of wanting religious freedom, but wanting to single out others because of their religion.
Then I looked up. My heart dropped. We swerved.
He was driving in oncoming traffic.
Our driver apologized. We made it safely to our destination, and thanked him for the ride.