Election wrap up . .

When we last we talked I was about to go in search of doughnuts.

About the time I shut down the computer yesterday morning and launched my quest for doughnuts, my phone rang. It was 5:00 a.m. I wasn't too surprised. This Ohio for Obama bunch knows how to use their electronic communication devices.

"Good morning, time to wake up," a familiar voice said. I said "Good morning" right back before I realized it was a really well done robo call. The voice was funny and excited, and then he said "this is John Kerry. I want to say thank you for taking time from your busy schedule to be a legal observer for the polls . . . now get up, rise and shine, it's time to go win Ohio for Obama."

If John had sounded like that four years ago, he would be running for re-election. Seriously, I have never seen anything like this Obama organization. If he can run the country like he ran his campaign, great things will be done. And maybe we will all get wake up calls from famous people.

God was riding with me on the doughnut hunt, and if God is able to be scared, He probably was. Probably explains why I drove directly to the Dunkin' doughnuts on MLK drive without completely missing any turns. Early morning traffic in a strange city, lots of turns and twists, and searching for street signs through bleary morning gunk filled eyes made for an interesting ride. But the mission was accomplished, two dozen doughnuts. (Variety, for those who care) And the lady in the window called me "Hon".

The trip to the doughnut shop took me away from the route that I had taken to the polling place on Monday. But, as previously noted in this blog, I have been called the human GPS, at least by me. So confidently I made a quick calculation and trusted my instincts. Again, God must have been with me, because I pulled up to the polling place five minutes early, 5:40 a.m., much like Chevy Chase arriving at the motel in Vacation. "I'm here."

I was the first one to arrive at Calvary UMC. It was still dark and in the low forties. Tucking the two dozen doughnuts and my notebook and clipboard (yes, I had a clipboard) under my arm, I headed toward the front of the church to wait. One of the pollworkers, a man about my age, arrived at the same time I did. It was his first time to work at the polls. All the doors to the church were still locked. A couple of other poll workers arrived. Adam, my compadre legal observer walked up with his notebook and clipboard. (I see by your outfit that you're an observer . . .) A few voters had already arrived. Fortunately, this appeared to be one of those neighborhoods where everybody knew everybody. So, a trustee of the church was passing by and noticed everyone waiting. He stopped and unlocked the doors.

By that time all the poll workers were there. Since I am not a resident of Ohio, I was prohibited from being in the polling place during the election. So I went in before the polls were set up and introduced myself to the "presiding judge", which is the official name for the head poll person. I showed my doughnuts. They were right. Doughnuts are a key. A life lesson learned.

The presiding judge was a lean small woman who knew what she was doing. She knew the rules, the law, and the practical side of running a poll. If every poll was run by someone like her, there would be far fewer problems on election day. She knew everyone and their family. She, unlike many precinct chairmen, would take time to find the correct precinct for a voter to go to if they didn't know. She truly wanted everyone to get to vote, and do it legally.

So, primarily because of the competence of the poll workers, things at Calvary UMC went smoothly. No long lines, just a steady stream of voters. The poll workers said that twice as many people voted there as had voted in any previous election.

At Calvary UMC, at least forty percent of the voters were under the age of 25. Many were young men that some of us would be wary of if we met them on the sidewalk at night. Hooded sweatshirts covering half their faces, baggy designer jeans belted slightly above the knee. Cryptic tatoos. One of my jobs was to remind people of rules before they went in to the polls, and afterwards to ask them if there were any problems in the polls. "Thank you sir". "No sir, it was all good." Time after time courteous, sometimes excited responses came from these young faces. Some that stayed around for a while started calling me Bill Clinton. I told them that was a compliment as far as I was concerned.

I doubt that I have ever been so blessed. As I talked with voters leaving the poll I would say something like, "thank you for voting and have a good rest of the day." The response was usually, "Thank you. You have a blessed day now." By the time the day was over, I had indeed had a blessed day.

There was another polling place right across the street. One of the workers from there told me that an elderly lady who was too sick to get out of her car was coming to our polling place, where she was supposed to vote. She would need a "curbside ballot". One Democrat and one Republican would have to bring her ballot out to her at the car and let her vote. I looked up the street. There was an older model beat up maroon car weaving down the road at about 15 mph. Traffic was stacking up behind the car. The car slowly veered toward the curb right in front of the church. It continued to veer until the right side tires were both up on the curb. I had assumed that a woman so sick would have been brought by someone else. But apparently not. As I looked in the window, she was slumped forward, her head resting in the middle of the steering wheel. I thought she had passed out. Hurrying to the driver's side window, I asked if she was all right. She struggled to look up at me, tears in her eyes, and said "yes". She was fumbling with the door handle. I stopped her and told her we were bringing a ballot to her. She again slumped forward. I said "are you all right, is there anything I can do?" She said "no, I just got to keep my oxygen bottle in the right place. I'll be all right." When the two poll workers got in the car with her, they had to go over the polling list. They sat with her, looking at her drivers license, and went over and over the list. The pollworkers could not find her name. The lady lifted her head from the steering wheel, raised a bony finger and placed it on the list and said in a weak but firm voice, "is that not me?" The pollworkers may have been slightly embarassed that they couldn't finder her name, but their relief was obviously greater. It was her and she slowly voted. I was really worried about her driving and asked if I could drive her home. She assured me she lived right around the corner and told me how she was going to get there by making only right turns by going one block farther down. There was no arguing with this woman, who still had tears in her eyes. "No way I wasn't gonna vote on this one." She rolled up the window and left, her car creeping down the street.

A "get out the vote" van pulled up. The side doors opened and I saw a man with a walker. He was stooped over and could barely move his legs. I suggested a curb ballot. He looked up at me and said, "No, I want to go inside and vote on this one. I can get there." And he did. He struggled up the steps in the front of the church and slowly went inside. When he came out he smiled up at me and said, "have a blessed day." There were tears in his eyes as well.

Children. There were lots of children around all day. And I have no doubt that these children will always remember going to the polls with their mother or father or granny or auntie on the day that Obama was elected. There was a daycare across the street. The teachers led the kids on a parade during the middle of the day, shouting "OBAMA, OBAMA."

There were spontaneous shouts and cheers of OBAMA all day long from cars passing by, or folks down the street. I am glad I got to see and hear it all. I was blessed to get to work with great people. Adam did a great job inside. He is a young attorney who will soon be moving back to Memphis. The poll workers were great. And the people that were outside politicking, or providing voter protection information, were wonderful to spend the day with.

It took forever for the day to end. Exhaustion was setting in. Then suddenly it was 7:30 and the poll closed. Our precinct went about 95% for Obama. I said my goodbyes and left.

I was alone. Not wanting to be alone I headed downtown. A huge crowd of Obama folks had gathered at the Cadillac Ranch, a big bar and cafe with lots of televisions. We watched together and cheered as each state was called for Obama. Pennsylvania was big. But, when Ohio was called for Obama, a joyous, powerful roar erupted. Exhausted faces were filled with tears and smiles. It was a beautiful sight.

Suddenly I realized how tired I was. I left the Cadillac Ranch and began the walk back to my car. The polls had been closed for a couple of hours. My phone vibrated. A text message from headquarters advising me about voter identification. These guys were commited. I laughed out loud as I walked down the streets of Cincinnati. I had thought about heading south for a few hours, but wiser counsel convinced me otherwise. I called Vann and Benjamin and texted some others. I got a room at the Radisson and turned on the television and flopped onto the bed, which is where I was when the race was called. I desparately tried to stay awake for Obama's speech. A friend by text suggested a catnap. I woke up from my catnap at about 7:30 a.m.. I did hear part of the speech, but it's a little foggy.

So that's it. Not really all of it, but this blog has gone on too long. I am thankful for this adventure. I am thankful for the hope that our country has latched onto. I am thankful for all the beautiful people who I had the chance to hang out with the last few days. I didn't see Bailey Quarters, Venus Flytrap, or Johnny Fever. But as much as like them, they are not real. I met some real people in Cincinnati this weekend. I think it was meant to be.