Organizing for America | Pamela Hayes's Blog: My Day as an Obama Volunteer 6: Celebrating!

My Day as an Obama Volunteer 6: Celebrating!

By Pam Hayes - Nov 15th, 2008 at 12:11 pm EST

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After our final effort to get out the vote in the LeMoyne Gardens project of Inkster, MI, we returned to the Obama headquarters jubilant but exhausted. I wanted a beer. I really, really wanted a beer! It was the best reward (besides Obama winning) I could think of. I was pleased that, in the supposedly low-turnout area we had canvassed, everyone we talked to had voted.

I was excited to watch the returns and eat a hot meal. The food was still covered, so I grabbed some juice and tried to watch the returns in the large, crowded room where everyone had gathered. It was too noisy, however, and the projected TV coverage was too visually busy for me to decipher without narration. I did not feel the need to sit near anyone I knew or had canvassed with. I just sat down next to a stranger, hoping it would be time to eat very soon!

I saw a pie chart from the TV coverage that showed 96% blue and 4% red. I exclaimed, “I want to live in that state!” As it turned out, it was not a state at all. It was the African-American vote! Next, the screen displayed a pie chart that was over 60% red. I shuddered in horror when I saw that this pie chart represented white voters. Those figures may have changed since then – it was probably around 8:30 p.m., only 30 minutes after Eastern states had closed the polls, and almost three hours before the West coast states would close their polls. As early returns came in, and critical states seemed to be leaning towards Obama, there were lusty cheers from the crowd.

Finally, the food line began forming. I got into it as soon as I could. Before the line had moved very far, our fearless leader Adam got up in front of the room to say that some of the Ann Arbor people really wanted to get home, so we would be leaving immediately. He apologized to those who had gotten no food. I was mildly outraged. Not only was there no beer, but there was no food for all my hard work! It seemed wrong, and I was not about to blindly obey these orders!

Someone from Ann Arbor observed our bus driver placidly eating a plate full of food over by the wall. We all chortled with glee. If the driver was still eating, what was to stop us from eating? The Inkster people kindly waved us to the front of the line. We piled our plates high with mostaccioli, macaroni and cheese, meatballs and gravy, and mashed potatoes. I gently teased my friend Becky for bothering with salad.

When my plate was full, I sat right next to the bus driver. He was still shaking his head in disbelief at what he saw as Adam’s hubris for directing bus passengers without first checking with the driver. I felt a little bad for Adam. He was trying to serve two constituencies, which was a hopeless endeavor. He deserved no criticism. I was pleased that we would all be able to eat, and felt that those who were desperate to get home could wait just a little longer.

As the Ann Arborites filed out of the room, the Inkster people applauded and cheered us. We had doubled their numbers. Whereas Ann Arbor had an overflow of volunteers, Inkster had a very small number– certainly not numerous enough to cover their city. I felt great that we had been able to help in an area that truly needed help.

Back home, I joined my own friends to watch the returns and celebrate. Although I was dead on my feet by 9 p.m., I stayed up for another four hours watching returns and waiting for the announcement of Obama’s victory, and the accompanying concession and victory speeches. When victory was announced, we poured champaign and toasted in wonderment that such a thing could happen: the election of the first African-American president in the United States of America! Not only that, but we had witnessed the victory of a once-in-a-lifetime candidate. We loved Obama without reservation. To me, he was a hero.

I had no idea how to feel. I felt very happy, of course, but I did not feel full of joy. I had held hope at bay for so long for fear that it would be dashed once again by Republican shenanigans at the polls. Perhaps by holding hope away, I had deprived myself of the ability to feel unbridled joy. I hoped that it would completely sink in the next day,.

When our friend John had to leave before we had heard McCain’s concession speech, he invited us outside to hear the explosion of joy sounding all across Ann Arbor. We could hear shouted jubilation and horns blaring all around us. We were in awe, and I felt ecstatic to have chosen the “right” city to live in!

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