Saturday
Worked on number-crunching day job stuff until 4:30am, napped until 6 and got up for the 8:30am flight to Chicago. Arrived at O’Hare around 2:30pm, took the Blue Line to Grand, then the 65 bus to Michigan, walked upstairs and there I was, home base for this trip, 535 N. Michigan Ave., right in the heart of the Magnificent Mile, courtesy of my friend Brian, who was able to set me up in an empty unit for my stay because (a) his unit is nearly cubed out with boxes of hockey gear, leaving no room for a guest, and (b) as the president of the building’s condo association he holds the keys to an empty unit. My man was gracious enough to throw an air mattress and a t.v. up in that bitch, along with some soap and bath towels. Add a couple camping chairs and God DAMN!
Brian gets home from a campaign meeting, we have a beer while watching the first period of the Blackhawks game, and now we're going to dinner with some people. When Brian asks someone where the place is and then replies, "Oh yeah, 26th and California! Right next to the prison!" he is referring to Cook County Jail. I chuckle and he says, "Look! As a government employee, sometimes I go to the jail, okay?" I know that Brian has never been incarcerated - he's the most honest person this side of Jessica - but it doesn't stop me from breaking his balls for the rest of the trip. Alas, we enjoy a delightfully fine and cheap meal with some of the folks I'll see again and work with on this trip. $1.45 tacos rule.
Sunday
Brian and I enjoy breakfast at Mary's Cafe before an 8am meet-up in the Jewel parking lot at Clark & Division. There, we gather with some members of Illinois Veterans For Obama, including its chairperson, Adam. From here, connecting with more people en route at the Indiana Skyway, our 14-person, 5-car convoy rolls out to Obama's field office in Gary, Indiana.
After a quick stop in Gary, we're off to the field office in Porter County. We later learn that our convoy to Indiana is just one of many from Chicago this weekend. As one of the four key battleground states in this presidential election, Get Out The Vote efforts are particularly focused here. The Hoosier State hasn't voted for a Democratic presidential candidate since LBJ in '64, and Obama is currently a few points behind in the polls here. My group is in Porter County today because there's a high concentration of veterans and children of veterans here.
The way Get Out The Vote works is, they generate lists of registered voters and then break the lists out into "turfs" or walking routes. A turf may include anywhere from 25-50 addresses or people, depending on the size and density of the route. Whether you've signed up to volunteer in advance or not (walk-ins are always welcome), you visit a campaign field office where you're given a quick tutorial if you need one, a clipboard with your list and a map of your route, and some printed materials from Vote For Change and local voting info. You walk the route, ringing doorbells and knocking on doors. At each point of contact, all you know is that the person whose name, age, phone number and gender is on the GOTV list is a registered voter. Earlier in the campaign, GOTV efforts were focused on talking points to influence people's vote. In the final two weeks, you shift focus on just making sure people know how to vote early, where to vote on Election Day, and what times the polls open and close. You give them printed info on these things provided by the field office, ask them if they need a ride to the polls (GOTV volunteers will take care of that) and if they'd like to volunteer on Election Day. I first hit the ground with the aforementioned Adam, a Kosovo vet, and Terrence, a Vietnam vet who works for the Human Rights organization Heartland Alliance (below).
My experience in Indiana is mixed, as most canvassing efforts tend to be. Half the people on your list aren't home, so you leave materials on their porch or on the door knob (but not in the mailbox - federal offense, no can do). Of the remaining half, some are nice and others are not; those voting for Obama are positive and friendly, while those voting for McCain tend to be somewhat unfriendly. One redneck looked at my Obama '08 hat and said, "Keep walkin', liberal faggot." Being called a faggot by a guy who is most likely a functional illiterate who has jerked off to his sister never fails to be the highlight of any day. Everybody sing along with Little Johnny Cougar: "Thiiiiiis is AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA COUNTREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
After a good 9-10 hour day, we return to the Windy City hoping our efforts and those of many others will help move the needle enough that our candidate has a chance to take Indiana on Tuesday. Adam and I kick our feet up and discuss volunteer work, public service, and the idea of a 21st century period of enlightenment over an ice cold Coke in his apartment. This guy is impressive, this Adam. Having served in Kosovo in the Marine Corps, he's just not your stereotypical veteran. After working in sales and public relations, he took stock of the world and his place in it, and dove headlong into a life of volunteer work and service, enough so that he eventually left the private sector for a full-time job as a precinct captain under Chicago's 42nd ward alderman Brendan Reilly, man regarded by Chicago insiders as the odds on favorite to eventually succeed mayor Richard M. Daley, whenever Da Mare chooses to retire (my guess: 2014). Adam sincerely believes that an Age of Enlightenment is upon us, and that this election will be considered its first mover. I'm not sure I believe this, but after spending time with Adam, I'm not sure I don't, either. With twelve ounces of carbonated refreshment and a half hour of quality dialogue in me, I head back over to 535 N. Michigan where Brian and I share a pizza from Gino's East and watch the Patriots-Colts game.
Monday
No major campaign activity today. With a sore back and knowing what a long day tomorrow will be, I spend most of the day laying on the floor, in between breakfast at the Bongo Room and dinner at Pizzeria Uno. I love me some deep dish.
Tuesday Morning at the Polls.
Waking up at 5am, I can't be sure what the next twenty or so hours will bring, but I do know that either way, we're all gonna wake up tomorrow feeling differently than we did today. From 6am - 11:30, I work as a Pollwatcher in the 53rd precinct. Because this is an odd-numbered precinct, there are three Republican election judges and two Democrats. My job is to keep an eye on the judges and make sure they're following the rules. I catch one of the judges unnecessarily challenging some voters rights and fortunately, we're able to keep things above board. The cycle repeats itself a handful of time like this: I catch the Republican election judge cheating, he says "okay, fine" and then does the right thing, then repeats a few minutes later, and so on. In addition to the official bound list of registered voters in the precinct, there is also a supplemental list provided by the Board of Elections which represents those voters whose registration was processed after the print production of the binder was underway. On several occasions, this one judge tries telling voters whose names are on the supplemental list that they could either wait for him to call the Board of Elections to verify his/her registration (which could take a few minutes) or alternatively vote using a provisional ballot. Knowing that the voters are on their way to work and won't want to wait around, it's likely they'd choose the provisional ballot to save time. The problem is, [1] these people are registered and have the same rights as those whose names are in the binder, and [2] provisional ballots are seldom counted, pending how close the election results are, so by manipulating these unsuspecting voters toward the provisional, this judge is essentially (also unnecessarily and unfairly) trying to render their votes useless. Similarly, this judge challenges people whose middle initial is found on their driver's license but not on their voter registration, or vice versa, even when the address, date of birth, and signature match. Challenging these bullshit suppress-the-vote tactics isn't difficult, but it becomes more annoying each time.
Tuesday Afternoon on the Phones.
While keeping Johnny GOP in line, I'm also working with a list of the registered Democrats in the precinct who'd voted in the primaries. As each voter casts a ballot, I'd cross his/her name off the list. Periodically, someone from the 42nd Ward Democrats swings by to take my list and I resume with a fresh one. What they're doing is taking the marked-up lists to a law office whose admin folks would scrub the lists to hide the names of those who'd voted in the morning, then re-print and put them into the phone bank, which is just a bunch of people sitting around a conference table, calling the precinct's registered Democrats who hadn't voted yet to remind them it's Election Day, let them know where their polling location is, the polls close at 7pm, anyone who's in line at 7 has the right to vote, and give them the number of the law office to call in case anyone at the poll tries to tell them otherwise. At lunchtime, I head over to the phone bank a couple blocks away and bang out about 300 calls in 3-4 hours.
Jessica arrives at O'Hare, takes the El downtown and meets me at the phone bank. We grab a bite and start making our way down to what has unofficially become known as "Obamapalooza" - our candidate's Election Night rally in Grant Park.
Obamapalooza: Rally in Grant Park
65,000 free tickets were distributed via Obama's email list of volunteers, and we got a pair. What an awesome scene, thousands of people descending upon the park for what turned out to be an extremely well-run, smooth event. The entire Chicago Police Dept. is on the clock, on foot, on horseback, in cars and on scooters and dune buggies. The crowd is well behaved. We situate and watch the results roll in via CNN on the JumboTron. At a point, an analyst says that Virginia is the remaining battleground state which McCain, though not mathematically removed from the contest, would need to win if he were to have a continued fighting chance in the election. Moments later, CNN announces "Obama Takes Virginia" and the place goes bananas. 65,000 people inside the rally proper and another estimated (by CNN and the Chicago Tribune) 160,000 outside of it let out a roar unlike any other I've heard, including Super Bowls and Springsteen concerts. We're amidst a collective euphoria that ripples throughout America and whose epicenter is right here where we stand. This is why we traveled to Chicago this week, to be a part of something that will be taught in U.S. history for the rest of civilization. This is why I've been involved in this campaign, to participate in the democratic process at this precise moment in time, a time in which the stakes are high and the future depends so heavily on exactly how America chooses today. Just minutes later, at around 9:45pm Central... Barack Obama, that skinny young senator from Illinois whose middle name is Hussein and who 98% of Americans had never heard of just two years ago, is announced as the President-elect, to become the first black president in U.S. history. We're numb. Virginia whipped this place into a frenzied ovation, and with the declaration of victory, this surreal moment has us drunk on the realization of hope. Everyone is looking at each other as if to say, "I believed this could happen, I believed that it would, but is it REALLY HAPPENING?" About twenty minutes later, Republican candidate John McCain issues a dignified concession speech. Even and especially among this crowd of Obama's most passionate supporters, Senator McCain impresses the world with his poise and class. The verbal reactions from the crowd are positive and respectful. Obama's acceptance speech is gripping, more sober and less emotive than many of the speeches we've seen him deliver on the campaign trail. Among that which he touches on, I am most impressed when he addresses those who did not vote for him, "whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President, too." By invoking Lincoln, who not so coincidentally came from Illinois and who carried Republican values to the White House while facing a nation more divided than ours, President-elect Obama has set the tone for breaking down the barriers of party lines in favor of a more nationalist sense of Americanness.
Some photos from the event:
Yesterday, Jessica asked what this election has meant to me, what Barack Obama has meant to me, and what caused me to become involved. I think my answer would resemble that of many others. I've always been interested in politics, public policy, and have always enjoyed discussing the issues of the day with anyone who brings a relatively thoughtful point of view to the table. Though I've felt pretty strongly about the candidates I've supported in past elections, not until this one has my support been exerted in the form of time, energy, and a few bucks. Not until this one have I actively participated, working the phone banks, canvassing, and truly being a part of it. So, why now? Why this election, this candidate? The answer is, it does have something to do with the state of the affairs in the U.S. today. Things aren't good. Our country's recent absence of diplomacy, a misguided military presence, a failing economy, and a lackluster global image do not add up to something we should be proud of. In 2004, we managed to re-elect an unpopular President with the lowest approval rating in history. Since then, an already sordid state of affairs has become worse. So, in part, 2008 has been the time to get involved. But more than anything, without a close second, it was the candidate. Barack Obama is the kind of politician we have not seen until now. He is at once an intellectual, a pragmatist, a true leader; a man of tremendous character, temperament and judgment; a diligent and sincere public servant of the highest order. He has compelled millions of us to get off our asses and play a role in the democratic process, to be a part of something great and historic, to collectively reclaim the ownership of our country. Patti Smith wrote "People Have the Power" but it doesn't amount to a hill of beans unless we get it together and use it. And that's all we did. Better, now that we know it's possible, that's all we'll continue to do. Yes We Can became Yes We Did which shall become Yes We Will and Yes We Do.
Jessica strikes the showstopper pose after the rally:
Chicago PD cruises down Michigan Ave.
Digesting the evening with a cheeseburger and a Coke at the Billy Goat:
Finally, our evening ends with a 1:30am drink at Brendan Reilly's election party at the Joynt.
At the end of the night, we grabbed some much-needed snacks at 7-11, walked back to the condo, and watched Mr. Smith Goes to Washington on t.v.
