And I helped!

[beetiger]

I've been in Chester County, Pennsylvania since Sunday afternoon, in Coatesville, an old steel town which, according to a local I campaigned with, is now the home of "not really anything, just people". About 10,000 of them in particular. I knocked on doors under the direction of a campaign office which was somewhere between very efficient and a bit overzealous -- one block told us we were the third people to come by on Monday. Waves of people kept coming into the steelworkers union hall where they were set up, busloads of people from Delaware, random New Yorkers, a bus of Catholic school kids who decided to parade around town with signs. I stayed at the home of a woman a few towns away, who had been housing out of town volunteers for months.

Tuesday morning I wrangled my way mostly into being a driver for people who needed rides to the polls, in large part by being willing to wake up at 6:30 am to get started and take the first wave. It was a coveted job -- definitely more satisfying than phone banking or something -- but by later in the day the driving manager was actively finding me to send out for people.

I took a man who was voting for the first time since he had been paroled. He snuck away from the day laborer place where he was hanging out, pretending to get a cigarette but actually sneaking over to my car. He didn't want a sticker after he voted. He didn't want anyone to know.

I drove a lady who was worried about long lines (she couldn't stand well or walk stairs), and who had prepared to talk to the "Judge of Elections" to get accommodations. When we walked in, the people running the polls knew her personally, and gave her a chair and a quiet back room to do her ballot. It took five minutes. She was a lifelong Republican, but God had told her this election wasn't about politics, it was about saving America.

I drove the sister of the first black councilperson of Coatsville. She knew nearly everyone there, and I'm not really sure why she needed a ride. I think she maybe just wanted to get a chance to talk to a volunteer.

I drove a man who hadn't voted for President since he voted for Reagan the first time, who had decided to vote because the Obama campaign had offered him a ride, so he didn't have to walk 4 blocks. He was sure he knew where his polling place was, but was wrong, so it took me an hour and a half to help him vote and get back home.

I drove a man who needed to stop at his house first to drop off a printer which he was carrying around in a pillowcase that he didn't want to get wet.

I stood on line in the rain, not once to vote myself, but all day with other voters. Watching them come out with their receipts, thanking them for making history with me, was a wonderful feeling.

There were lots of volunteers there: old black union men in T-shirts for both Obama and the local Dems, middle aged women from the Democratic Party making sure first time voters had the right ID before they waited on line, sincere AFL-CIO poll watchers in bright orange vests, and usually a single young man in a red tie, handing out Republican sample ballots. At most of the places, the Dems shared their coffee with him.

At 8 pm, we drove in pairs out to all of the polling places, to motivate people to stay on line in the rain, but there were no longer any lines. Everyone had come earlier in the day. Turnout was between 70% and 85% across the board. We came back to the office at 8:30 to find that Chester County had gone blue, though Bush had won it in 2000 and 2004, and that Pennsylvania had already been called for Obama.

The campaign office had planned marvelously for the work, but not to celebrate. There was no radio or TV there, and they were getting their information via phone calls from the district office. And although I'd really appreciated the media blackout while we were doing the work, I wanted to be plugged in afterward. The other short term volunteers had gone home, and the ones who had been there weeks and weeks were thinking about going to a bar with a TV, maybe later. So I got in the car, turned on NPR, and started to drive home, listening to results and commentary.

Exhausted, I took a short nap in the car at a rest stop in New Jersey, and missed the official announcement that the election had been called. I woke up in time to buy a Red Bull and a burger, and to watch McCain's concession speech on TV with a few black truck drivers and Hispanic food service ladies. The ladies were screaming and dancing, and chattering in Spanish too fast for me to catch any of it. I got back in the car and listened to Obama's speech while I drove down the New Jersey Turnpike, and never saw the crowds of people the news was talking about.

And here we are. I hope some of this organization, this activist energy, can be kept together to do some of the work that goes with all of this hope. My son asked me this morning whether this meant the war would stop and everyone could go to the doctor when they were sick. I said that it wouldn't happen right away, but that I believed that President Obama could help us figure out how to do it. Yes, we can.

Comments

Good job!

[rowyn]

And congratulations! =)