Politics on the Run : The Jackson Roadshow Is a Media Event

Jackson Action Rainbow Express: The name evokes images of Freedom Rides of the 1960s, when determined black and white college students loaded onto buses and caravaned into the sweltering South to protest the injustice of segregation.

Or, maybe images of a rolling, raucous political celebration, motoring into stop after stop to marching bands, colorful banners and huge, cheering crowds.

The official purpose of the Express--made up of buses bound from Chicago by way of Indianapolis, Louisville, Ky., and Chattanooga, Tenn., for Atlanta and the Democratic National Convention--is to register voters, to encourage voter participation, to thank supporters and meet delegates.

100 Reporters in Tow

So far, however, the excursion has largely turned into a motorized political platform for the Rev. Jesse Jackson with 100 television, radio, newspaper and magazine reporters in tow. Of the six buses following Jackson, four are jammed with media people, containing far more reporters than covered him as he jetted across the country during his presidential campaign.

With the trip, Jackson has managed to steal some of the limelight from expected Democratic presidential nominee Michael S. Dukakis.

The signs that this journey was not going to be exactly what most expected were there even as the Express pulled out of South Chicago on Thursday.

Supporters with fistfuls of balloons gathered outside Operation PUSH, the organization Jackson founded, for the send-off. But they were outnumbered, 4 to 1, by reporters.

Wife Leaves Caravan

Jackson’s wife, Jacqueline, posed at the bus entrance for photographers and television film crews. But she left the caravan even before it departed Chicago.

“She decided to fly to Atlanta,” Jackson told supporters in Indiana after introducing his five children who made the journey.

Crowds, though enthusiastic, have often been smaller than those during the primary campaigns. There are no lavish welcoming parties. The buses arrive in town largely unnoticed.

The caravan arrived in Louisville at midday Friday for Jackson to have lunch and speak to nearly 2,000 supporters at a registration rally at Lampton Baptist Church.

“If you are 18 years old or older and are not registered to vote, please stand,” Jackson calls out at various stops. Hesitantly and slightly embarrassed, a few stand, particularly after Jackson says he wants them to come down to the front near him to register.

Numbers Are Small

Emboldened, others join in. Their numbers are small: about 30 in Indianapolis, with another 50 in the packed church in Louisville.

“A great day is coming,” Jackson told the church gathering. He said it will be reminiscent of Rosa Parks’ refusal to ride in the back of the bus in Montgomery, Ala., and the first sit-in to desegregate public facilities by students in Greensboro, N.C. in 1960 and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s march on Washington in 1963.

“On July 20, my name will be entered into nomination for the President of the United States,” he said. The church exploded with applause.