Chapter 10: A Lifetime Ago

In August, Dan’s Delegation did not exist. In September, we had forty confirmed volunteers. In October we had six hundred and eighty four. Organizers, with whom I would later reestablish contact, told me that on November 4th, 2008 there were over one hundred and seventy people who travelled to battleground states who were at one point members of Dan’s Delegation. I do not have the hard numbers because I was no longer leading them.

Over twenty members of Dan’s Delegation went to Colorado. For the first time since 1964, the state would go blue for a presidential candidate. It wouldn’t be as close as pundits speculated back in September. Barack Obama would defeat John McCain 54% (1,216,793) to 45% (1,020,135). Mark Udall would win in a landslide and gain a new seat for the Democrats in the United States Senate. Democrat Betsy Markey 56% (178,893) would unseat (crush) Republican incumbent Marilyn Musgrave 44% (140,235) and win the right to represent the 4th Congressional District of Colorado.

A group of twenty students from the University of Oklahoma who were originally slated to go to Georgia instead jumped in buses and made their way to Missouri. The state which had served as the “bellwether state” (voted for the winning candidate) for every election over the last one hundred years except for one, lost its title when it voted for John McCain by the most narrow of margins: 3,732 votes. Obama had won 49% of the vote (1,442,180). McCain had won 50% of the vote (1,445,812). The stories I heard back from the volunteers on the ground in Missouri were both inspiring and reflective of energy that was sweeping the nation.

A small group of six students from USC who were originally slated to go to Indiana, paid their own way and flew into Indianapolis the Friday before the election. They would be repaid in full for their efforts twice. First, Indiana became the surprise of the night. Except in 1964, when Lyndon Johnson won in a landslide over Barry Goldwater, Indiana had voted Republican in every Presidential Election since 1940. It was the one state that was predicted by almost every network and every poll to be red – that actually went blue. Obama won Indiana 50% (1,367,503) to 49% (1,341,667). Second, on Tuesday evening, when their work was done, they jumped in a car and made a small drive west to Illinois to Grant Field in Chicago. They watched Barack Obama deliver his acceptance speech in person.

Rather than flying to Georgia and North Carolina as we had planned, the huge Harvard / Tufts “machine” jumped in buses and descended into New Hampshire. New Hampshire was also slated to be one of the closest elections in the county. Pundits were surprised there as well when Barack Obama won New Hampshire 54% (384,581) to 45% (316,937).

Over one hundred student volunteers from all across the state of California who were originally Dan’s Delegation volunteers travelled by bus to the largest city in the largest county in Nevada: Las Vegas, Clark County. Nevada was slated to be one of the closest elections in the country. Pundits were surprised when Obama won Nevada by a 55% (531,884) to 43% (411,988) margin. In 2004 John Kerry won Clark County by roughly 36,500. In 2008 Barack Obama won Clark County by 123,000 votes. This is in a state where Barack Obama lost the primary caucus just seven months earlier.

I received emails from many who were once part of the Delegation who found a way to board planes on their own to Georgia, New Mexico, Ohio and Florida.

I also received emails from people thanking me for my efforts, pledging their involvement and the involvement of their family and friends in local elections. Many told me that they would have never got involved if they had not met me. They said I had inspired them. They were wrong. I was inspired by them.

Days after the election, I continued to click on CNN to try to get results: my eye and heart was on North Carolina. There was a particular graduate student leader from Berkeley I had come to trust while we were in the throes of October. She was smart, strong and was originally from North Carolina. She was perfect for the position of State Director of that all-important battleground that not only held fifteen Presidential Electoral Votes in the balance but a Senate seat as well. I put her in charge of what was to be a team of over one hundred and fifty volunteers. When the students broke ties from me, she was the first person I spoke with. The conversation ended with me putting her in tears. I have not spoken to her since.

I would hear from student leaders that she decided to lead a group of nearly thirty of her original volunteers back to North Carolina anyway. It was her connection, her group, who found the discount flights in the late hour. Determined and undeterred, she and her team landed in North Carolina on the Friday before the election and remained there for over five days.

The first piece of good news I would hear on Election Night was that Democratic challenger Kay Hagan had defeated Republican Incumbent Elizabeth Dole to become the next Senator from North Carolina. The last piece of good news I would hear on Election Night would also come out of North Carolina. But it wouldn’t come on Election Night. It would come long after.

On November 6th, a full two days after the election, the New York Times predicted that Senator Barack Obama would win North Carolina. But on CNN’s interactive map, it would remain gray and undecided much longer than that. The election was over. Barack Obama had already given his historic acceptance speech in Chicago. The world had already changed. I must have been one of a very small fraction of Americans who remained glued to the Internet and television set every chance I had in the hope of seeing a final outcome from the Tar Heel state. Then, one day, in the later weeks of November, without pomp and circumstance, without noise and controversy North Carolina quietly and officially went Blue. 49% (2,109,698) of voters in that state had voted for John McCain. 50% (2,123,390) had voted for Barack Obama. In a state election in which 4,233,088 voted, a margin of 13,692 votes determined the winner. Nationally, if this election had been close, North Carolina could have easily been the ball game. In my mind it was.

Our volunteers were passionate, efficient, independently well lead and, after a certain point, they no longer needed me. I was thankful they went somewhere and made an impact. It wasn’t a direct path, for many of them it wasn’t the original target, but ultimately they reached the same destination.

In breaking from my leadership they proved the hierarchy we had worked so hard to establish was in fact a success.

Any sense of pride I may feel now or down the road is only because of their efforts and dedication.

In October, at the highest point of organization and anticipation, I would hope that the people closest to me would say that I did my damnedest to stay focused and humble. But in my subconscious, I couldn’t help but believe that my efforts in this campaign might serve to direct my own path. I didn’t know if I and my family had it within us to run for political office, but it was discussed and it seemed very tangible and exciting. Maybe I would make some contacts and be able to land a lower level position in the U.S. Department of Education. Riveted and thrilled by the story that was building in front of our eyes and from our own hands, we said that someday Aaron Sorkin and/or Stephen Soderbergh would make a movie about us. It had that sort of feeling to it. Nothing seemed impossible.

I had three days after the election to spend with my family, relax and reflect before I flew to the frozen Midwest for a week of training with my new sales job. It wasn’t enough time. It was extremely difficult to transition back into corporate discipline and equilibrium. It was even harder to leave my family again. Nothing I could do could make up for the time I had lost with them.

One of the problems of visualizing and achieving success is that in the heat of commitment, one can lose himself to the dream. As a person moves farther along and closer to the goal, things around him begin to change. A new challenge emerges: determining whether or not this is the cost of growth – the shedding of skin – he seeks, or merely a loss of balance. Even if the vision is achieved, and the goal is actualized, the individual will inevitably measure the cost and be forced to answer the question: Was it worth it? Excitement, friendship, progress, achievement and victory are large units of assessment, but they can be quickly offset by a great many more factors that remain unseen until they make themselves all too apparent.

Those closest to me have realized it is better not to raise this question. Despite the stress and toll extracted, despite the fact I cannot fully see or equate the impact of my actions, in my heart, in my soul, I am certain it was worth it.

They are not so sure. How could they be?

None of them knew everything that happened, but they saw what I was going through, saw what my family was going through, read my name in the local paper, and they made their conclusion based on that. I have done some things in my life that I look back upon with regret, but this is the first time in my adult life that I have ever had to rationalize my actions to those who love me. Some are proud of me. Some think I was a fool. Everyone believes my wife deserves sainthood for her understanding and her efforts. Everyone is glad it is over.

Since Election Day, November 7th, 2000, I have married a beautiful and wonderful woman and embraced both a son and a daughter into this world. I am a lucky man whose life is filled with love. But with every audacious act by this Administration – with every brushed over scandal, with every deception, and with every lie – part of me grew enraged. And I didn’t want to be enraged, so I withered. I was gone for a week when I was at the Convention. After that, I was gone for a month even though I was at home. Upon departing for my second trip to Denver, I hoped to return home with more than a victory for humanity and progress; I hoped to return home with my self.

The night of November 4th, 2008 brought with it an awesome and emotionally sweeping moment.

I would see footage of people storming the streets in jubilation in countries all over the world. I continue to hear stories of people crying that evening– not the type of tears that leak out that you try in vain to hold back, but huge, purging tears that you remember leaving your body for a long, long time.

For hundreds of millions of people around the world to reach this happy ending, thousands of volunteers had to dedicate countless hours, days, weeks and months behind the scenes, on the streets and in the trenches doing the work that needed to be done. They did this at tremendous cost and tremendous personal sacrifice. I was one of these volunteers.

I have yet to arrive at a place in which a wave of emotion can swell, crest and break upon me – crashing in with a sense of awakening and fulfillment, carrying out self scrutiny, the sacrifice I put upon my family and eight years of catastrophic ignorance, deception and shame put upon our country.

I think I would have liked that closure, but perhaps I wasn’t ready for it.

Perhaps the last eight years have been filled with such a despicable tragedy that one victory is not enough.

In January of 2001, twenty seven Electors from the State of Florida and five Justices from the Supreme Court were able to deliver the world the worst presidency in the history of the United States. Perhaps one citizen living out the opportunity to serve as a delegate almost eight years after the fact was not enough to fix, validate, balance or otherwise offset a failed and broken method of determining the most powerful person on the planet.

Perhaps the tremendous and historic moment presented to us when Senator Barack Obama gave his acceptance speech on Election Night was abated in my guts by a bigger and still pressing civic issue many still fail to see. The Constitution is a living document. In framing it, the Founding Fathers were smart enough to allow for change. It is not carved in stone like the Ten Commandments. Perhaps we need to change our system of determining how we select our Commander-in-Chief even more so than we needed to change our Commander-in-Chief.

Perhaps I was horrified that Proposition 8 passed.

Perhaps the depth of time and energy given to this effort is too deep to be overcome by one moment.

Perhaps I felt an urgency to return to the practicality of work and family.

For a short time I felt as if I was both a lightening rod and conduit for progress. Perhaps, once it was all over, I simply felt fried.

Or maybe, for the first time in a long time, it’s the feeling of simplicity: We only did exactly what we were supposed to do. The good guys won. Progress won. In a world that is complicated and confused and all too often filled with cruelty and pain – it is still correct to expect this. But expectations are never realized from the sidelines.

I feel as if my actions over the last eight months have merely been a natural reaction and a correct extension to make my own life, my children’s future, our country and this planet run the way it should.

There was no open field on election night, but perhaps the serenity and closure I seek lies therein.

Anyone can and should be willing to do what we did.