It wasn't supposed to happen.

Most of the talking heads on TV said it COULD NOT HAPPEN.

They did not grasp what Donald Trump's movement was. It wasn't a collection of bigots and malcontents. It was a mass movement of people who wanted to purge the system — drain the swamp. In the end, it was independents and swing voters joining that throng that put Mr. Trump over the top.

Mr. Trump's final TV ad framed his argument: The elites versus the people; foreign jobs versus American jobs; one set of rules for the few and another for the many.

The elite media could not see that Trump was in touch with something deep and real in the county and that what he rightly called a movement is what made him, not the reverse. They could not see it because they are part of the elite — part of the “superiors,” those who know better and who look down on “the deplorables” whom they think know nothing.

In the end, the political fundamentals prevailed. The polls had long shown that some 65 percent of the voters think we are going in the wrong direction as a nation. It had to be a change year.

What kind of president will Mr. Trump be? Like no other we have known in the modern presidency, of that much we may be sure. Trade policy will change. Russia policy will shift, at least for a time. Young men and women will not die for nation building in failed states.

But Mr. Trump is not without historical precedent. As with Donald Trump, many saw Harry Truman, in 1948, as an unworthy little man — “in over his head.” Tom Dewey was dull, but qualified and “presidential.” Sound familiar?

In this race, even when the numbers showed the contest was close, the national media insisted that Donald Trump could not be president. NOT POSSIBLE. It really was like “Dewey defeats Truman” — that guy can't sit in Oval Office.

How many presidents have initially been regarded this way?

The real precursor to Trump is Andrew Jackson (president from 1829 to 1837). He too was rough and tumble, some said crude. He was certainly not one for political niceties. He was dynamic, blunt, even bullying and sometimes hot tempered. He was a man of many feuds. Thomas Jefferson, and many others, called him “dangerous.” He was seen by Henry Clay (the Hillary Clinton of the 1820s), as an unworthy anarchist.

Jackson is, of course, synonymous with small “d” democracy as well the remaking his party. He ushered in a period of democratic cleansing and cleaned out the corruption in the capital city. His boldness, and the unwashed quality of his supporters, (they were not called “deplorables” but were certainly thought of that way) appalled and frightened the political establishment of his time.

Andrew Jackson turned out to be a pretty good president — a smart executive who empowered the people.

Donald Trump spent 16 months of his life and perhaps as much as $100 million of his own money running for president. Though we were constantly told he was about to quit, he never did. In the final weeks of the campaign he was at his best: he did as many as five rallies a day and proved he could be disciplined and stay on message. He was a warrior. When there was a potential shooter at a rally in Las Vegas, the Secret Service whisked him off the stage. But after the “all-clear” he came back out, unrattled, and finished the speech, showing aplomb and humor.

Jacksonianism is not a philosophy. It is an instinct. Some 20 years ago, Mr. Trump had an instinct: The USA is getting ripped off. It leaders are cretinous and corrupt. We don't make things any more. A society only needs so many hospital orderlies or heating and air conditioning technicians. We need to manufacture and to create new wealth.

Mr. Trump's closer ad was called his “argument for America.” And in it he promised to “...replace a failed and corrupt political establishment with a new government controlled by you the American people.”

That's Jacksonian democracy.

Mr. Trump's new political order will not be easy to establish. But the people have told a modern Jackson they want him to try.

Keith C. Burris is the editorial page editor of The Blade. Contact him at: kburris@theblade.com or 419-724-6266.

First Published November 9, 2016, 8:01 a.m.