I live in a district that went way heavy for Obama and even brought Paul Kanjorski back despite the notorious enthusiasm for Lou Barletta. Still, in my town of Hazleton, PA, you know there were pockets where the hatred for Obama and Democrats was alive and well. Between the Catholic dominance in the population who vote only on abortion, and the xenophobia that has divided this city to once again think skin color determines a person's value to socity, Barack Obama had an uphill battle in this town.
When I typed my name into the web page of the Obama campaign, having donated for the first time in my life to a political campaign, I never really expected to see anything here. I was proven so spectacularly wrong that I want to give genuine recognition to two people who are so humble and calm that they make Barack "no drama" Obama proud.
Dave and Heather of the Hazleton Obama office, you have earned heartfelt gratitude from anyone and everyone who supported Barack in the 11th district of Pennsylvania.
This is but one man's story and expression of gratitude beneath the fold.
I arrived at my polling place at 6:55 AM, there were four cars in the parking lot. I was third in line to vote, my vote was cast by 7:10.
At that moment I was grateful to live in a small town.
Later that night, I celebrated with friends whom I had met while working in Obama’s campaign office. If you've read any of my previous diaries, you know I've had some ugly moments lately. On many days I should have volunteered I was so stressed out, pissed off, and loaded for bear, I stayed home because I knew I was so volatile, I didn’t want to unload on someone who did not deserve it. I regret that. But Dave, the guy who ran the local campaign office here in Hazleton (can you even believe that ultra-conservative, almost totally Catholic Hazleton even allows heathen Democrats to walk the streets, being the baby killers that we are?) was always glad to see me, never rubbed in how often I said I would show up and didn’t, and always asked how the work on my house was coming. His girlfriend Heather was the absolute model of calm, committed focus without drama or exaggeration.
Don't get me wrong - they weren't robots or Karl Rove - you saw serious thought and gears turning, sometimes real worry and occasionally some frustration and intensity - but it was well measured and always appropriate.
They were the two best people we could have asked for.
The night before I was so stressed out I had been unable to sleep, and stayed up all night. That's the only reason I was able to vote at 7am. I had left the campaign office at 1 am and picked up a volunteer at 6 to bring her back to the office. But I hadn't done much at the campaign office when I had to lay down in a back room for a while. Then I went home to let my dogs out and really took a nap.
Embarassed, I showed up at the campaign office around 1 PM wanting to offer people rides to the polls. I was told that there was an elderly couple only a few miles away who’s car had broken down and needed a ride to the polls. He was 84, she was 82, they had been married over 60 years. They both walked with a cane, and apologized profusely for taking so long. I kept telling them how I was simply pleased to be doing something productive and constructive on this day, and I certainly had no reason to be anywhere else. It was wonderful. Everyone was so happy, everyone was so thankful and gracious and polite - we all seemed to feel a spirit much larger than we were, that we were doing something we knew was important. We got everyone in the car, both asked me to help me with their seat belts.
The ride to the polls was less than 1/8 of a mile. It was literally about three blocks.
I walked with them inside, holding canes and opening doors in turn, and everyone was back in the car in less than ten minutes. Again - gotta love small towns.
Each asked for help with their seat belt again. My dad would be so proud - he never started the car until everyone was wearing a seat belt, and with my maternal grandmother that was a struggle both literally and figuratively it makes me laugh. These people were the way we all wish we were.
This was the way everyone was supposed to treat each other.
The return trip to their house was a non-stop expression of gratuity and graciousness from them both as they continued to explain how, were it not for their car’s mechanical problem, they wouldn’t have had to bother me. I kept trying to tell them what a pleasure it was to know I could help.
When they were both standing at the steps to their front porch, the husband stuck out his hand and I could see that there was money in it. I asked him if he would be offended if I refused, because this was one of the few occasions that I did not need to be paid to know I had accomplished something worthwhile. He asked me please, to accept it, his wife saying, "You can use the gas money. Gas is so expensive".
They paid me $20 for a ten minute trip of six blocks.
Later that night – polls closing at 8 pm, I got a request at 7 pm if I would go to Wilkes-Barre. There was a guy in Hazleton who was still registered to vote in Wilkes-Barre, who had moved here just a few weeks ago because he had nowhere else to stay but with friends. It was too late to change his voter registration by the time he got here, but he still wanted to vote. It was 28 miles one way. I got him to the polling station with 20 minutes to spare; he voted, we stood outside and had a spirited conversation with a man supporting the opposing political party who said he was beset on throwing out corrupt politicians from the bottom up (he had much to say about the Democratic candidate for our district) and I said I was beset on throwing out corrupt politicians from the top down. We shook hands and headed back to Hazleton.
So – the trip of the first six blocks paid for the trip of the last 55 miles and then some.
Is there a God? I keep saying no, but I don’t complain when on some days it seems like there might be.
I got to the bar where the campaign office had gathered to watch the returns around 9pm; there were maybe 70 people there. When Dave and Heather showed up around 9:30, there was a raucous outburst of hoots, whistles, cheers and thunderous applause for a good two minutes for them both. They were humble and gracious, and it was obvious they were really embarrassed. I hope they’ve gotten over that by now, because we all meant it, and if anyone I have known deserved that kind of recognition it was them.
I was actually home alone when the election was called it for Obama and not watching the TV live. I think the emotion of the moment would have been too much for me anyway. I had heard some stories about latino voters with valid voter registration cards in their hands – cards with valid dates on them and therefore obviously properly mailed to them by the local county board of elections - who were turned away and refused the opportunity to vote because they simply weren’t on the voter rolls at the polling place. It was being excused as a "glitch" in the Motor Vehicle Bureau computer. Maybe they were given provisional ballots, I was so angry I wasn't really listening.
I remember Dave and Heather telling me that I shouldn't hear this, they knew I was prone to over-reacting, and I promised I would use his calm to be my reason to just let it work itself out without me.
You know - hope.
I was expecting this to reveal itself all over the country, and then who knows where we would go from there. I really couldn’t stand to watch any more.
And then I saw this on Google News this morning...
I’m sorry I missed seeing this live – just the sight of the people running across the grass of Grant Field in Chicago was enough to make me start crying all over again. It has a Woodstock feeling to it. I thought this little video essay was pretty good – especially the smart-alec girl who made the comment about Ohio. She and I would have become good friends with a sense of humor like that.
So – today I went out and collected the campaign signs I had just put up two nights before, a pile of bent metal sits in my driveway waiting to be recycled. I went out to get something to eat, just wanting to get a feel for what mood the town was in. I noticed people engaged in their daily routine, no real shocking or intense moments, but I have to say how obvious it was who they voted for even from across the room without them having to say a word. Solemn, grim, dare I say angry faces, and comments like "Well they wanted him, now they got him" when they did speak. The local business owners I met are convinced their taxes will have four digits before the % sign if you talk to them long enough.
ugh.
And tonight I’m still trying to let this sink in. There’s a part of me that was so poisoned in recent months I was sure this would not happen.
And then I listened to Rush Limbaugh today. HA! That tragic sad sack of sh*t kept banging on the desk and railing off a dozen reasons why it was everyone’s fault - but not Obama’s credit - that McCain lost. I smiled. I really smiled. I think the fat bastard will have a stroke before Christmas. It’s not a wish, but a prediction. The Republicans are eating their own brains because they know even after they threw the kitchen sink, the bathtub, the garden hose and the entire septic system at Obama, it just did not work.
Maybe that’s the sign I was looking for, I hadn’t thought of it that way until I just wrote that line.
So, enjoy this video. I hope the link stays up for a while. I wish I had been able to watch it live.
The other thing I saw in the last week was at the end of Real Time with Bill Maher. It was a song performed by John Legend, who I had never heard of before. But when I hear this, it moves me. I don't hide it when I cry.