Friends,

I’m knocking 1,000 doors this summer.

Here’s what happened at door 588.

I knock. A woman opens the door.

Before she can speak, a small fluffy white dog bolts outside. He bounds across the lawn and disappears across the street.

She cries out, “Biscuit! No!”

She runs back inside her house, leaving me standing outside.

I have said nothing.

She reappears with a bag of doggie treats and runs across the street, following Biscuit’s trail.

This whole situation is my fault so I follow her.

I cross the street and onto someone’s lawn. She calls for Biscuit and waves the bag of treats. She’s starting to panic.

I speak for the first time: “I’ll go around back.” She nods.

I head into the backyard. It was a house I had knocked about ten minutes earlier. No one had answered, so I had left a leaflet and moved on.

I enter the backyard and immediately see a shirtless man sitting in a red lawn chair on a cement patio smoking a cigar. He’s reading my leaflet.

I quickly start explaining myself and he waves my leaflet at me like he already understands the whole situation. He doesn’t seem surprised at all.

He glances up at me. “Biscuit?”

I nod. “Biscuit.”

He stands up and walks over to an old ride mower that’s parked against his fence. He climbs into the seat, turns the key, and it starts with a loud rumble. He puts it into gear and takes off at top speed, heading my way.

He zooms past me and rounds the corner. I follow.

He engages the blades, which takes the machine from a loud rumble to a total racket. Now he’s criss-crossing the mower to different parts of his front yard, cutting diagonal stripes through his grass as he goes.

It’s a wild sight.

He careens toward a bunch of bushes in the corner, getting close enough to brush up against them.

And out pops Biscuit. He bolts back toward his home just as quickly as he had bolted away, running straight past the woman with treats, who now waves at her neighbor with a familiar smile, and he waves back, cigar between his fingers.

I walk back across the street, back to Biscuit’s front door, where the woman waits for me.

I shake her hand. “Hi. I’m Jeff Jackson. I’m your state Senator.”

She says, “Sure, I know you from Facebook. Sorry about Biscuit. You’ve got my vote.”

***So what have we learned?

1.
Part
of
what
makes
someone
a
good
neighbor
is
being
willing
to
hop
on
a
ride
mower
and
use
it
creatively
at
a
moment’s
notice.

2.
When
your
dog
is
missing,
nothing
else
matters.

3.
Not
all
campaigning
is
about
television
ads.
A
lot
of
it
is
just
about
showing
up
and
being
a
real
person.

I’m ready to do a lot of campaign work on your behalf. Knocking doors, chasing dogs, making my pitch to skeptical strangers — and doing it all in this blazing hot North Carolina summer. I think I’m running this campaign the way you want me to.

The only thing I’m asking is that you help chip in to keep the wheels turning. You’ve been amazing so far — our campaign is overwhelmingly funded by small dollar donations — and if you would take a minute to support us, I’d really appreciate it.

If you've saved your payment information with ActBlue Express, your donation will go through immediately:

CHIP IN $10 NOW [[link removed]]
CHIP IN $15 NOW [[link removed]]

CHIP IN $25 NOW [[link removed]]
CHIP IN $50 NOW [[link removed]]

CHIP IN $100 NOW [[link removed]]
ANOTHER AMOUNT [[link removed]]

For Biscuit,
Jeff

P.S. — Back at it. 600 doors down, 400 to go.

[link removed] [[link removed]]
Paid for by Jeff Jackson for Congress
Jeff Jackson for Congress
P.O. Box 470882
Charlotte, NC 28226
United States
www.jeffjacksonnc.com [[link removed]] | [email protected] [[email protected]]
This email was sent to [email protected] . If you'd like to receive fewer messages or wish to no longer receive these messages, please unsubscribe. [[link removed]] If you are a registered lobbyist with the state of North Carolina and have received this email in error, please unsubscribe. [[link removed]]