Who got it wrong at the town halls?

 

By JoAnne Young

Did Nebraska Congressman Mike Flood get it wrong? 

Did some of the participants in his town hall meetings get it wrong, too? 

Or did I? 

 

Flood says he believes in town hall meetings. He honored his campaign commitment to hold three town halls in Nebraska in spite of Republican party leadership telling him not to do it. Town halls “are real, they’re raw, and they’re as accountable as anything in America,” he told Michael Barbaro of the New York Times “The Daily,” after the last one in Lincoln. 

 

We all know how those three town halls turned out. Shouting, swearing, booing, emotions spilling out, grandstanding. And in between, some good questions that needed a decent answer. 

 

I have to give him credit for holding these meetings, for deciding to go ahead in spite of Republican leaders telling elected officials not to do it because they don’t like the optics. He and Nebraska got national attention for those gatherings, from the New York Times; Fox News; CBS, ABC and NBC News, CNN. 

 

My beef is mainly with whether the town halls are as useful as both he and the participants wish they were. The fault lies on both sides. 

 

The interview Flood did with Barbaro provided the most insight. The Fox News interview was more pandering than anything. 

 

He told Fox News that the people attending the town hall meetings were not “everyday Nebraskans.” 

 

“When I said something to the effect of ‘the heart and soul of working class Americans now runs through the Republican party’ that was a very hard pill to swallow but it is very true. A lot of the folks who are objecting to (Medicaid) work requirements simply aren’t in touch with working class America.” The left, he said, thinks they’re entitled to free health care without having to work for it. 

 

The town hall was performative, and he wasn’t buying it, he said on Fox. 

 

His interview with Barbaro was more interesting. Barbaro asked good questions and I learned that 

Flood grew up with two active Democrat parents, his mother on the state central committee and his dad an elected country attorney in a solid red area of Nebraska. At age 5, when he asked his dad the difference between Democrats and Republicans, his dad told him Democrats were poor and Republicans were rich.

 

“Right there I was like, well, I’m going to be a Republican,” he said. 

 

By age 11, he said, he was supporting state Treasurer Kay Orr for governor and his parents were supporting Helen Boosalis, mayor of Lincoln and first female mayor of any city over 100,000 population in the United States. He worked for Kay at a call center and attended a fundraiser for her two hours from his home. 

 

“I just loved it, I loved everything about it,” he told Barbaro. 

 

Barbaro has an interest in town halls because he spent most of his career covering hundreds of town halls as a political correspondent. “I’ve always seen them as a pretty special part of our political system, a unique chance for elected officials to come face to face with voters, actually answer questions. There’s a built-in accountability system, a chance for voters to evaluate the official for authenticity and candor.” 

 

Flood became a fan of town halls in 2003, before he was elected to the Legislature, when he attended one in Wahoo held by state Sen. Ron Raikes and members of the Legislature’s Education Committee to hear from rural Nebraskans on Raikes’ bill to eliminate all one-room schools across the state. 

 

“I saw tears. I saw screaming. I saw people that were just despondent,” he said. “I was definitely against what he was doing, but he sat there and respectfully listened to everybody, and everybody got their say. And this went on for 3 ½ hours.” 

 

He decided then, being a politician and listening to constituents was the job he wanted. It was powerful to witness people exercising their right to protest, he said. So even when told this year by Republican leaders not to hold those ugly headline producing town halls, despite thinking of himself as a team player, he honored his campaign commitment to do three town halls in 2025, knowing that town halls “are real, they’re raw, and they’re as accountable as anything in America.”

 

That first one in March was held in the shadow of the president’s executive orders, including one to end birthright citizenship, his lawsuits against law firms, trying to put his thumb down on universities, and DOGE’s rampage through federal agencies. Even so, Flood said he had no idea how raucous that town hall in Columbus would get. 

 

People there were angry about Elon Musk, about potential cuts to Medicare, Social Security, jobs. They shouted him down, booed loudly when he said: “I support Elan Musk and the Department of Government Efficiency.” He supported Donald Trump, he said, because he had done more to address the root issues of the country in these few months than the prior president.

 

Speaking to his audience, he told them their high school civics teacher wouldn’t endorse their behavior. A man shouted back: He wouldn’t endorse yours, either. 

 

“I couldn’t have predicted that it would have gone like that,” he said. “And I think when it was over, I was stunned and a little numb. That’s honestly how I felt.” 

 

On the 45-minute drive back to Norfolk, he replayed everything he had seen and heard that night. He processed the participants questions: What was he doing to be real with people about how Trump was breaking the law? When was he and Congress going to take back their responsibility? Why was he doing this to his constituents? What is the purpose of Congress? Why does it even exist? 

 

“Elon Musk gets $40 billion a year in funding from the federal government. Do you think he would cut that before he would cut our Medicare or our Social Security or our jobs?” someone asked. 

 

“I support Elon Musk and the Department of Government Efficiency,” Flood responded. 

 

Boos. 

 

Barbaro asked him: Why do you even exist? Have you spoken out against anything Trump has done in his second term? 

 

The checks and balances Congress was created to provide don’t have to be done on CNN or Fox News, Flood said. 

 

“If I’m going to draw a red line, I’m not going to draw it on TV. I’m going to do it with people that are actually in charge of their part of the government. ... It’s not done for public purposes.” 

 

Barbaro tried to pin him down about anything he had spoken out against. Flood said he spoke out against cuts to the National Weather Services. Those offices, which are vital to our state, are down 40%. “This was a hill to die on for me. This was public safety.” And since, they’ve hired back people that had been fired.

 

When asked if he was afraid to get crosswise with Trump at these meetings, if he can be candid with any disapproval of Trump’s actions, especially in a public room, he said that to do that he had to be convicted and to know where his conference committee was on the issue. You don’t come over the hill with no one.

 

“Do President Trump and I have the same demeanor? Probably not,” he said. Sometimes Trump just says things, like seizing the Panama Canal, and Flood said he doesn’t take the bait, but rather looks at what he is trying to accomplish.  “You don’t get to have a red line every day just because a subset of your constituents are livid about ‘x.’ (Trump) is the leader of the party that I’m in and there’s a balance.” 

 

At the Lincoln town hall, he told those gathered that Trump’s domestic policy bill (titled the Big Beautiful Bill) protects Medicaid for the future, even as it takes it away from an estimated 110,000 Nebraskans, including 53,000 children. He answered a question on how he could vote to cut medical research dollars and food stamps by saying: “We do not have unlimited money in the United States.”

 

Loud boos. 

 

After three town halls, Flood still believes they have value because they are cathartic for people who are upset. And he sees nonverbal agreement with him on issues like Ukraine, and that fascists don’t hold town hall meetings. He sees a communication that can only be seen when he is talking to people who are upset.

 

“It’s good for America that we have Republicans and Democrats that can spend an hour and a half in a room together, and yeah, there’s some shouting and yelling, but I got the chance to say what I wanted to say. I got the chance to explain my votes. I got the chance to essentially debate with a few of my constituents, and they got the chance, in their eyes, to hold me accountable, to tell me how they felt. We all got something out of it.”

 

The town halls were strained, but not representative of where he thinks most people are. Still, he has more in common, he said, with those screaming protesters than he does with the rest of America who thinks that politics is a hobby, and they don’t pay any attention to it. They are only concerned with the bubble they live in.

 

“Every decision I make affects somebody,” he said. “And the lady that’s calling me a fascist is not living in that bubble. She is very invested in her beliefs and where she thinks the country is going. She showed up. And she’s spicy. That’s the town square. That’s politics. That’s what we do.”

 

Except, he turns around and disses the town hall participants to Fox News watchers as “not everyday Nebraskans.” He says those booing and disagreeing are extremists. Performers.

 

I say, town halls should not be a place for name calling, hyperbole and simplification of the issues. On either side. I want real answers to serious questions. Only then can our politicians be held accountable. 

 

Our Nebraska delegation should show up at town halls, should answer our questions there and in letters and emails. They should submit to unbiased interviews. 

 

Their work may go on behind the scenes, as Flood says. But how would we know? We need them out in the open and public.  

 

He told NPR’s Steve Inskeep: “I want the medical research. I want it in there. I want America to lead the way here.” 

 

Let’s hold him to it. Make him show us the waste, fraud and abuse he claims exists in social programs. And stop the sound bites on both sides.