Election night -- amid the celebration, a somber story

This past month I've worked for a political campaign to elect former White House chief of staff Rahm Emanuel as Chicago mayor. He won the other night, which was awesome for Chicago but also an awesome experience to have gotten to share in.

I met some amazing people affiliated with the campaign whose paths' I might not have otherwise crossed, bright people in education, community organizations, and of course, folks with political backgrounds. This old poli sci major, who never really used that degree and instead has had a long journalism and now corporate communications career, was just eating up this stuff. My main task for election night was to work with broadcast and print reporters and find them cool and interesting people to interview -- known as "surrogates" in the business.

There were a number of surrogates I hadn't even met until that night, since I just joined the campaign about a month ago. So picture a very pregnant lady in all black stretch pants and jacket -- fashion plate to the max, baby -- running around trying to chase people down in a rambunctious crowd and corral them over to the camera area. I still have sore calves two days later -- can't wait until I can start running again and get back into shape.

Anyway, there was one such "surrogate" supporting Rahm whose story I just cannot stop thinking about. Her name is Annette Holt. Her son Blair, 16, was shot and killed on a city bus trying to protect a friend from gunfire about in the spring of 2007. I was trying to find her to do some TV interviews after Rahm's speech to the crowd once we knew he'd won, and I kept wondering about her as I wandered through the crowd about her.

I remember that shooting. My son, now 18, was just about to graduate eighth grade at the time and would enter high school in the fall and would also be taking public transportation to his public high school. And of course I was, and still am, always nervous for his safety. How does a mom or dad breathe, function, go on after losing a child? I selfishly wonder this often after reading the many stories there seem to be about yet another teenager in this city murdered. I think every parent thinks oh thank god, not my child, when reading about a child being murdered.

I finally spotted Annette, quickly introduced myself and guided her back to the cameras, where she would once again talk about what happened to her beautiful son that horrible day. (She has since become a huge advocate for curbing gun violence in the city and for youth. I cannot state how much I admire this woman for her strength). She was smiling and radiant and so cheerful to participate. in the campaign and the events of election night.

A few months before Blair was shot, my teenage son lost a classmate, Lazarus, to violence as well. I knew Lazarus, a slight kid often on his bike, with long braids and a sweet pixie-like face. He and my son hung out a bit, though at one point had some kind of altercation with my son that led his mom and I to speak on the phone. It was one of those boys will be boys things, it turned out, and I remember Lazarus' mom being very sweet and making her soft-spoken get on the phone and apologize. I always thought he seemed like a good kid, so you just move on, you know?

Then one day my son called me at work to tell me Lazarus had been killed, less than a mile from our house. As far as I know no murderer has ever been found. I will never forget taking my son to the huge funeral on a dark, wintry night. My poor son wore his nicest clothes and a ski cap pulled down tightly over his head, and did not take it off once inside. He was silent the whole time. He was just a 15-year-old kid. You're not supposed to have classmates get murdered when you're a kid.

He didn't want to stay during the whole funeral, so we left midway. Again, he was silent in the car as I wrestled with what to say, anything at all I could say to soften his pain. At some point between the funeral home and our house he started to sob so hard, in a way I'd seldom heard. It broke my heart. I hope to God I never have to see my kids lose another friend this way.

I know the answers to gun violence are not simple, but I am hopeful that a guy like Rahm, himself a dad of three, has pledged to make this a priority among many, many priorities in this city. And God bless Annette for being so amazing.