From Caroline W., Baldwin, New York:
During GOTV in rural Indiana, I was canvassing in a public housing development. A mother answered one of my doorbell rings, with a child on her hip and another four inside the tiny co-op. When I asked her if she was planning to vote, she said "my husband takes care of that." I then asked her what she was concerned about. We talked for maybe five minutes, but it felt longer. I explained how her vote counts too, and how Obama's message addressed most of her concerns. She was beginning to nod. I asked her again if she was going to vote, and she hesitated. "Right down the road? That's where I have to go?" she asked. Yes, I responded, it's very close. She nodded again, and said, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Well, I think I can make that."
From Wendy W., Manitou Springs, Colorado:
An indelible memory for me was on Election Day and I was canvassing my neighborhood to get out the vote. I went to the house of an elderly gentleman, probably around 90, and drove him to the polling place. He was in his pajamas and barely able to walk, but he wanted to help make a change in this country. Holding onto his frail arm brought tears to my eyes, but he was so proud to get out and vote.
From Crystal Z., Greenfield, Massachusetts:
I was canvassing in New Hampshire and we decided to take the most out of the way places. We'd run into some scary characters a couple times, and were a little worried about going down this long overgrown drive with no apparent exit, but it was on our list and we were determined. Toward the end, we could see a ramshackle trailer, a lot of 'retired' cars and other assorted 'stuff'. We were about to turn around when a shirtless guy charged out of the trailer. "Hey! What're you doing on my property?" Bravely, my canvas partner got out of the car and said, "We're getting out the vote for Obama." The guy rushed over, patted him on the back and said, "Good job! He's got my vote, and I never even voted before." Phew.
From Arno M., Wisconsin:
The tears running down my face were the same tears shed by the Muslim women wearing hijabs to my right, the young Latina girls to my left, and the enormous prematurely-balding white guy who danced with his toddler son on his shoulders in front of me. I found myself talking to a conservatively dressed older black man named Maurice when Barack Obama's presidency was announced. We embraced in one of the nicest, most pure hugs I've ever had the pleasure of taking part in; two complete strangers from what would be pointed out as vastly different backgrounds prior to that night, now celebrating the wonderful similarities pointed out by our common aspiration.
From Jennifer G., St. Louis, Missouri:
I served as the Team Coordinator/Site Director for the Obama campaign in my ward. On Saturday morning, November 2nd, I arrived at our office to open up for the day to run a GOTV practice. I found one new volunteer already there waiting for us. His name was Henry, and as he introduced himself with a strong British accent, and I asked where he was from. He said he had just flown in from London because he just couldn't sit idly by and watch our election happen -- this election was too important, not just for the U.S., but for the world. He had read that Missouri was going to be one of the toughest battleground states, so he bought a ticket for St. Louis so that he could lend his time. He canvassed TIRELESSLY for us that entire weekend -- sun-up to sun-down -- and kept our spirits up when we started to drag. It was amazing how inspirational he was to our other volunteers and it was so fun to celebrate with him on November 4th when the victory was announced.I still have a bottle of champagne he purchased that night, sitting in my fridge. He told me to keep it because he was going to come back in 2012 to make sure that next time, we win Missouri too.
