Biggest Super Tuesday takeaway: Do not mess with Jill Biden or Symone Sanders

In the midst of all the exit polling and ballot counting during the Super Tuesday primary race, an unlikely set of heroes (or sheroes, if you will) has emerged.


As Joe Biden delivered his victory speech at a rally in Los Angeles, two vegan protesters stormed the stage, one right after the other. Holding signs and shouting "Let dairy die!" they got frighteningly close to the former vice president, who at this point in the race does not have a Secret Service detail.

Security immediately took the first protester away. But as the second one jumped up on stage, Biden's wife Jill, who was standing by his side, leapt into action. Before anyone even knew what was happening, she'd physically blocked the second protester from her husband.

Photojournalist Patrick Fallon managed to capture her badass bodyguard move:

As if that wasn't impressive enough, as the photo was being taken, Symone Sanders, senior advisor to Joe Biden, sprung up out of nowhere to tackle the protester and drag her off stage. In the video, she looks like a lineman just after the ball was snapped—no hesitation, no fear, just pure, instinctual "NOPE, NOT TONIGHT, LADY," as she hurdled up to the stage.

No matter who your preferred candidate or what your political affiliation is, you've got to hand it to these women for their immediate fearlessness. They didn't know if those protesters was armed. They didn't know if they themselves would be harmed, and it didn't even appear to cross their minds. They didn't wait for security (which was where, by the way?) to act. They saw danger and pounced. This is what heroes do.

And neither has made a big deal out of it. Dr. Biden hasn't mentioned the incident on social media at all. And Sanders simply shared what might be the most perfect tweet for a civilian woman springing up to do the job of a Secret Service agent. So understated. So fierce.

If we're going to continue the trend of choosing old white dudes as presidential candidate, we should at least make sure they're surrounded by strong, courageous women. Well done, ladies.

Watch the whole scene here, including Dr. Biden going back to clapping for her husband like nothing even happened:

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When Molly Reeser was a student at Michigan State University, she took a job mucking horse stalls to help pay for classes. While she was there, she met a 10-year-old girl named Casey, who was being treated for cancer, and — because both were animal lovers — they became fast friends.

Two years later, Casey died of cancer.

"Everyone at the barn wanted to do something to honor her memory," Molly remembers. A lot of suggestions were thrown out, but Molly knew that there was a bigger, more enduring way to do it.

"I saw firsthand how horses helped Casey and her family escape from the difficult and terrifying times they were enduring. I knew that there must be other families who could benefit from horses in the way she and her family had."

Molly approached the barn owners and asked if they would be open to letting her hold a one-day event. She wanted to bring pediatric cancer patients to the farm, where they could enjoy the horses and peaceful setting. They agreed, and with the help of her closest friends and the "emergency" credit card her parents had given her, Molly created her first Camp Casey. She worked with the local hospital where Casey had been a patient and invited 20 patients, their siblings and their parents.

The event was a huge success — and it was originally meant to be just that: a one-day thing. But, Molly says, "I believe Casey had other plans."

One week after the event, Molly received a letter from a five-year-old boy who had brain cancer. He had been at Camp Casey and said it was "the best day of his life."

"[After that], I knew that we had to pull it off again," Molly says. And they did. Every month for the next few years, they threw a Camp Casey. And when Molly graduated, she did the most terrifying thing she had ever done and told her parents that she would be waitressing for a year to see if it might be possible to turn Camp Casey into an actual nonprofit organization. That year of waitressing turned into six, but in the end she was able to pull it off: by 2010, Camp Casey became a non-profit with a paid staff.

"I am grateful for all the ways I've experienced good luck in my life and, therefore, I believe I have a responsibility to give back. It brings me tremendous joy to see people, animals, or things coming together to create goodness in a world that can often be filled with hardships."

Camp Casey serves 1500 children under the age of 18 each year in Michigan. "The organization looks different than when it started," Molly says. "We now operate four cost-free programs that bring accessible horseback riding and recreational services to children with cancer, sickle cell disease, and other life-threatening illnesses."

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