Red, Blue and Brew
A look into the election that reshaped history
“They couldn’t see it, could they?”, asked Levi, very earnestly and with a glint of curiosity in his eye as he looked at the picture in his hand.
“Of course not”, said Sarah, “They were prisoners of the moment. They only saw what was right in front of them. The pain. The fear. The uncertainty.”
“So, what changed?”, Levi pressed.
Sarah didn’t answer. She just smiled. For the answer was too big, too profound and too moving to be condensed into simple words.
They were, after all, talking about election night in America. November 4th, 2025. The night that changed everything.
It was a night, like all American elections in the days of the Density, that brought delirious jubilation to the victors, and panic to the losers.
Elections in those years had morphed from contests of ideas to existential tugs-of-war over the levers of power; each defeated party insisting that this defeat would be the one that permanently destroys everything.
Democracy. Capitalism. Freedom. National borders. Religious liberty. Healthcare.
Everything.
That November evening, Kelvin found himself celebrating the Democrats’ big night at a bar in Washington, D.C., forgoing the victory party of his fellow activists to instead enjoy a moment of silent appreciation for their accomplishments. New York City had elected its first Muslim mayor, Virginia swept the Governor, Lieutenant Governor and Attorney General races, New Jersey kept the Governor’s mansion and California passed a redistricting proposition to create several more Democrat-leaning congressional districts. It was a big night for team blue.
At the bar, Kelvin overheard two people at the table behind him, each lamenting the election results and speaking with a feeling of impending doom in the air.
“This country’s cooked”, said Kyle to his friend Liz, “COOKED. People lined up to vote in a commie terrorist as mayor and a guy who said he wants to kill his political opponents as AG of Virginia.”
“Yep”, said Liz, “They can all go to hell. They’ll get what they deserve.”
Normally, Kelvin would ignore these discussions, but something compelled him to get up and say something.
“Hey”, he said to Kyle and Liz, “I can tell you guys are upset about the results. Want to talk about it?”
“Sure”, said Kyle, “Let’s talk about how people in New York want another 9/11.”
“Do you think a single mom who voted for Zohran because he promised affordable rent really wants another 9/11?”, Kelvin asked, earnestly.
“Well, it doesn’t matter what she wants”, said Liz, “Because that’s what she’ll get now. And she’ll deserve it. They all will.”
“I see”, said Kelvin, holding his ground, and not indulging in the emotion of the exchange, “Tell me - is that what you want to happen?”
“Of course not”, she said, with certainty, “But it will.”
Kyle and Liz knew where Kelvin stood based on this exchange, but continued indulging him anyway. His tonality and presence mattered far more than his beliefs in that moment.
“Let me ask you guys something”, said Kelvin, “Did you vote for Trump last year?”
Kyle and Liz both looked at each other and smirked, giving away the answer without having to say anything.
"Alright”, said Kelvin, “I figured at much. Here it is - this time last year, I was right where you are. I wondered how anyone could vote for that man and assumed the worst of everyone who did. I figured if you voted for him, you were cool with all the nasty things he ever said and did, and all the people he associates with. Till my grandma told me she voted for him too. You believe that? This woman lived through Jim Crow in North Carolina. But you know what - I know her heart. Best woman I’ve ever known in this world. She had her reasons and they were nothing like what I expected.”
Kyle and Liz fell silent for a moment, and Kelvin was tired, ready to leave. But he left his cards with them in the most D.C. exchange possible, and invited them to drinks the next week.
To his surprise, they took him up on the invitation.
And they had another robust discussion, each airing out all their grievances about the candidates and policies of the other party, but sharing a personal anecdote of a voter to humanize someone on their “side”. Friends, family, colleagues. Each with a story of why they penciled in a candidate that was nothing like the operatives and pundits told.
They met again the next week, and the week after, they invited some friends to join.
Eventually, it became a large monthly meetup that started spreading throughout the country. A group called, “Red, Blue and Brew”, where people would dress in the colors of their party affiliations and tell a tale of someone they love from the other side.
The gradual rehumanization that these meetups birthed began a long, slow, and often painful process of healing the partisan divide that made every election feel like a life-or-death affair.
Four years after the first meetup, attendees from the Red, Blue and Brew events formed a political action committee, running candidates from the group for office.
Each carried a pledge - no policy proposal would be put into place without first meeting at a Red, Blue and Brew event to discuss it with all attendees.
If the proposal carried an energy of fear, division or terror for one segment of attendees, it was shelved. Then they’d have to gather and find a more palatable alternative.
The goal was simple - no election night moving forward would ever yield a feeling of doom again. Disappointment? Sure. But not doom.
Kelvin, Liz and Kyle remained good friends throughout the years, and started a political consulting firm together, helping local parties select candidates from a pool of civically-engaged locals who were bridge-builders and innovators, rather than fire-breathing ideologues.
Over time, the hard edges of each party’s wings softened, and an era of cooperation returned to Washington.
An era that gave birth to the miracles of the Garden.
“Alright, I’ll tell you what changed”, said Sarah to Levi, as she looked at the photo with him, “It was the moment your grandfather walked over to my grandparents at that bar.”
Levi looked at the picture and smiled.
“That’s pops”, said Levi with a smile, “I knew his heart. Best man I’ve ever known in this world.”
Geoff Woliner is an existential mixologist, helping craft custom content libations to bring you back to your life’s purpose.