The New Yorker:

Her ascent captured the hopes of an electorate weary of the politics of fear. Can her campaign define her in time for the election, reclaim patriotism from the right, and end the Trump era?

By Evan Osnos

When Joe Biden called Kamala Harris on the morning of Sunday, July 21st, she was in the kitchen at the Vice-President’s residence, a turreted mansion on a hill in Northwest Washington. Harris was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie from her alma mater, Howard University. Her husband, Doug Emhoff, was in Los Angeles, but the house was bustling with relatives. She had just finished making bacon and pancakes for two grandnieces before sitting down with them to work on a jigsaw puzzle.

Biden was calling from isolation, both literal and political; he had spent the previous night socially distanced at his vacation house in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, recovering from covid and absorbing the reality that he had lost the confidence of the Democratic Party. Twenty-four days earlier, Biden’s addled performance in a televised debate with Donald Trump had sparked a frantic effort to replace him at the top of the ticket. On the phone, Biden told Harris that he was ending his bid for reëlection. More to the point, he said that he would be endorsing her as the Presidential nominee.

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