Sherrod Brown
October 28, 2026 · Newsletter
It sticks with me
Hey everyone,
We are coming up on the end here. If Connie or I met you on the trail sometime in the last 435 days, I want you to know how much I appreciate you sharing your story. When I feel pressure or doubt, or wonder if I’m doing enough, I think back on our stops: the barns (and barn cats) in Pickaway County, IBEW members in Steubenville, the folks at One Wave in Columbus … just this past month in Lima, Cincinnati, Chillicothe, Akron, Dayton, and yesterday in Youngstown.
I know it’s not easy to share some of the things you have told me. You’re not carrying it alone. I will always fight for you.
- Sherrod
Something happens at almost every campaign stop.
We’ll be at a church in Cleveland, a brewery in Steubenville, or a cafe in New Philadelphia.
I’ll talk to folks, say a few words, and then people will ask great questions. Somebody will make a great joke.
Eventually the chairs start getting folded up. I’ll take a few pictures with folks on this grassroots team, and we start packing up. We’re folding chairs when, almost every time, somebody stays behind.
They wait until most of the room has cleared out. Then they come over and say some version of the same thing: “Sorry to bother you, Sherrod …”
I know what they’re going to say because it happens a lot: They tell me what’s really going on. They’ll tell me about something really hard they’re facing.
It might be the prescription they can’t afford anymore, or an electric bill that jumped up (again), or a parent they’re taking care of while trying to work full-time.
A daughter who aged off their health insurance and is now avoiding the doctor even though she needs care. Maybe a second job they picked up because the first one doesn’t cover groceries anymore.
Sometimes they pull the bill right up on their phone. It’s a vulnerable thing, telling someone your story, especially the part you’re most worried about.
I’m honored to hear it.
But I want to tell them: You never have to apologize for telling me what your life is actually like. You’re not bothering me. That’s the job. That’s why I’m here. I came off the sidelines to fight for folks like you. And the very first part of that is listening.
I didn’t come back to fight for the billionaires and corporations who already have high-paid lobbyists in Washington looking out for them. I’m here because I care about working families.
The truth is, I think about those conversations long after they’re over.
I think about it when I’m walking the dogs with Connie or when I’m weeding my garden. I think about it when I’m up early in the morning, when the house is quiet, and I have a few minutes to myself.
I think about the dad in Butler County who busts his tail all day and still lies awake wondering how he’s going to pay the rising electric bill.
The mom in Middletown trying to pick up another shift while taking care of her aging parent and raising her own kids.
The factory worker in Canton who has done everything we tell people they’re supposed to do – show up, learn a trade, work hard – and he still can’t afford the basics.
These stories linger, and I’m honored people share them with me. On the toughest days on the campaign trail, these stories remind me why I’m in this fight.
Because here’s the thing: Working people in Ohio aren’t asking for something radical. They aren’t struggling because they aren’t working hard enough (even though my opponent might think Ohioans have a “broken work ethic”).
They want to work hard and live with dignity.
They want to fill up the car with gas, buy groceries, pay the utility bill, sign their kid up for soccer – and not go in the red every month.
That shouldn’t be too much to ask. The truth is workers are more productive than ever. They’re more skilled and working longer hours. And corporations are reporting record profits.
But instead of paying their workers more, the average CEO makes more than 300 times what their employees do. It doesn’t add up.
Utility companies are raising rates to pay for data centers. Drug companies charge Americans more for the same medicine they sell for less somewhere else.
You see a whole lot of politicians in Washington looking out for these wealthy corporations. You don’t see enough looking out for the guy who stays behind after the event with a $455 overdue electric bill on his phone.
That’s what I mean when I say the system is rigged. People are getting screwed.
I want everyone I’ve talked with to know: I hear you. I’ve been listening. I know a Senate campaign isn’t going to fix everything overnight, but I know where to start. I know how to fight.
And this is a big one. The super wealthy folks like Elon Musk and Peter Thiel and Donald Trump are benefiting from the way things work now, and they have a lot of money and a lot of power. They’re not going to give any of it up easily. That’s why all three have been attacking me and spending huge amounts in Ohio to stop our movement.
But I know working people have won hard fights before. We’ve taken on powerful corporations. We’ve organized. We’ve stood together. We’ve changed laws and changed who our government works for.
We can do it again. I know we can.
So if you ever see me somewhere in Ohio and there’s something you want me to know, don’t apologize. Come tell me. I’ll listen. That’s the job.
In the Senate, I’ll make damn sure Washington starts listening, too.
A lot of folks also kindly ask how they can help. I’m genuinely grateful for everyone standing with us, so if you’d like to take the next step, it would mean a lot. If you’re in Ohio, we need as many folks as possible volunteering to knock doors and spread our message in person. If you can’t do that, please share this post with a friend or chip in a couple of dollars. Whatever the amount, I’d be honored to have your support as we fight to flip this seat.
We’re in this together. Thanks for being in this with me.
Sherrod
Before you click away! Republican spending in Ohio has reached $320 million, and Sherrod Brown is counting on your support to keep up. We can’t outspend them, but we can outwork them.