Nice job, Philly

We did it, Philly. Again.

Last year when the pope left town we collectively breathed a sigh of relief and amazement that it had all gone so well. That chaos did not descend with the Holy Father's arrival. After all, we had spent an entire year predicting failure.

When it came time to start planning the Democratic National Convention in earnest earlier this year, we did something entirely un-Philadelphian: We figured it would all work out just fine.

And guess what? It did.

By any measure, the Democratic convention was a success. There were no riots. The protesters tried our nerves at times, sure, but demonstrations were peaceful and arrests were few. Hats off to Philly police for keeping their cool and keeping the peace.

Hotels did strong business. The Democrats, unlike the pilgrims, drank and ate and spread cash around.

They saw the sights. John Hopkins, the burial-ground manager at Christ Church, told me plenty of delegates stopped by to lay their pennies at ol' Ben's grave.

"The No. 1 question was the same as it always is: 'Where's Ben Franklin?' " Hopkins said. "The next-biggest question was: 'Where are the donkeys?' "

(The donkeys, thankfully, will stay put for another week. I've been meaning to check out the donkeys honoring Utah and the Virgin Islands. They got shafted by being sent all the way down by the Navy Yard. The loneliest donkeys.)

PoliticalFest was awesome. Check out the "Headed to the White House" exhibit at the National Constitution Center. I never knew how much I didn't know about the 1840 slugfest between Martin Van Buren and William Henry Harrison.

If anything, we could've done better promoting the many smaller convention-related events and gallery shows to locals who wanted to be part of the party.

And, as I wrote last week, much more should have been done inside and outside the convention hall to highlight the poverty that still tears at our city but that received scant attention.

There was more proof last week, though, that Philadelphia is a changing city - a city that is proud of itself.

Anyone who dared insult our fair city on the internet found that out the hard way. The out-of-town journalists who whined on Twitter about our food, traffic, or transportation quickly found themselves at the mercy of hundreds of civic boosters, to put it delicately.

Most were savaged into submission and apology. One guy from Tampa who criticized our cheesesteaks was first smacked down on Twitter by the Philly Police Department and then turned into a meme.

Piling on anyone who mocks us is nothing new, of course. But what is new is the tone of our response. We weren't saying that only we can criticize our city, as we would have in the past. We were saying our city rocks and you're a fool if you don't think so.

The last four days with the Democrats, Mayor Kenney told me Friday, was only more proof that "Philadelphians can believe in themselves and the greatness of this city. That we can show it off in a nice and dignified way and say: 'Here we are. This is us. Welcome. Enjoy.' "

Congrats to the whole city, the mayor said.

Good for us.

Perhaps the strongest thread found in the mostly good-natured - and some not so good-natured - ribbing heaped on those who derided us last week was our indignation when anyone suggested that the convention should have happened anywhere but here. Columbus, of all places? How dare they?

Indeed, as the power and weight of the proceedings inside the Wells Fargo Center grew throughout the week, it felt reassuring and right that Philadelphia was the backdrop to this historic convention, of all conventions.

That the narrative was somehow playing out as it should, where it should, here in this city where the whole shebang began. Where our imperfect union was first created.

"America is once again at a moment of reckoning," Hillary Clinton said in her speech.

A reckoning that first began here 240 years ago. So it seemed only fitting that it continue here. That here, as Clinton said, we'd take historic steps in our "march toward a more perfect union."

Here, a black man would hand over the reins of a political party - and hopefully soon, a nation - to a woman.

Here, a proud and grieving father of a fallen Muslim soldier would offer a pocket Constitution to a wannabe tyrant so badly in need of one.

Here, if we can, we move forward.

mnewall@phillynews.com

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