Obama, up close

Line for Obama

A handful of Obama supporters were in line by 11 a.m. yesterday, and some as early as eight. I was with them. We sprawled on the concrete and waited for the rest of the line to form. I tried to do my homework, but after befriending a couple of little girls decided I would rather help them with word puzzles and chat with my line-mates, some of whom had left their beds at 4 a.m. and drove across state lines to be there.

The weatherman lied to us; we all expected a sunny day with highs in the mid-60s, so few of us were prepared. But, that didn’t dampen our enthusiasm– even after the rain began and soaked us through many hours later.

People talked about why they support Obama and how they are disappointed in McCain’s negative campaigning, how they thought the campaign had changed a man they once respected. We joked about which country we would move to if McCain was elected and spoke seriously about the dangers of a Palin White House.

We witnessed the security team arrive, set up their human scan machines and scope the woods around the stage. We talked about Obama’s death threats and how the forest made us nervous, but not so nervous we would consider getting out of line.

Not long after the gates opened and the same starter line created a human shield for the handicapped section at a yellow-tape barricade a hundred or more feet from the stage, we heard a rumor that Obama’s grandmother had died. We talked about his trip to visit her and wondered if they wondered if this would happen– her dying before seeing her beloved grandson become the first (half) black president. We decided she would want him to continue on, to be strong, to stay positive.

The stage, the too bright light, the crowd beyond the yellow tape

The people I stood with all day, and into the wet night, will forever be part of my memory of this historical election. We laughed, we chanted, we bitched and complained together. We yelled until they lowered a light that obscured our view. We called people out when they skipped in line or pushed their way ahead of us in the crowd. We called liars liars when they bragged about how early the got there, because we knew who was there. We stood our ground.

We talked about how Obama would be disappointed with the way some of his supporters were acting while realizing it’s the nature of large crowds. We scoffed at all of the VIPs– including several people who are expecting our vote today– who didn’t wait, who were ushered to the edge of the stage beyond the line– that was eventually upgraded to a yellow rope. We bonded and were happy to be on the edge of the crowd. When the batteries in my camera died, right before Obama arrived, my new friends and I exchanged email addresses on my Spanish vocabulary flash cards. They promise to share their pictures, and I believe them.

Obama addressed us– the cold and wet, tired and achy, cranky and excited mass– in front of the sun-like light and an ethereal cloud of fog. He seemed sad when talking about his grandmother. An article on Charlotte.com shows him with a tear in his eye and I believe it was sincerely shed. We murmured about how difficult it must be to be there, but he carried on– as we believed she would want him to do. He listed his talking points and asked us to help him change our country, our world.

The crowd before Obama arrived

As we left, we realized the size of the crowd. It was larger than the news is reporting today. We heard stories of people waiting in a line that stretched more than a mile. Parking lots miles away were crammed. It took us 30 minutes to walk to my car, and I was parked on campus. As we left we called the crowd beautiful. We talked about all of the different faces– the different colors, their expressions and how they would always be a part of our memory of last night. We were grateful for the long walk, even though our feet were throbbing and our backs protested every step. We talked about Obama’s message and how proud we are to be a part, even a small part, of his campaign.

You know what I think he really wants? I think he wants us to support him by supporting each other. I think he wants us to get involved and make a difference in our communities, towns and cities. I think he wants us to embrace our brothers and sisters– no matter what their color, no matter what their religion, no matter what their social or economic or educational status. I think he wants to inspire us to be great people. I think he’s done that.

Today is a busy one for me, and everyone. Exams and work and daily life maintenance will prevent me from gluing my eyeballs to the television set, so that will have to wait until my work is done. I expect it to be a long night. I expect it to be a landslide. I expect change to begin in late January 2009. I expect Barack Obama to be remembered in history books as one of the greatest American leaders our country has ever known.

If you haven’t voted, vote. Take off work. Do your part as a citizen of this great democracy. Let your voice be heard. Today’s the day. Today is the day. It’s finally here. Hallelujah. Vote, people. Vote and get ready, change is a’comin’.

“The best leader does not ask people to serve him, but the common end. The best leader has not followers, but men and women working with him.” — Marry Parker Follett