Morning Mess — Inside the process of picking a president

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 03/11/2016 (3412 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Eight years ago tomorrow marks the 2008 U.S. presidential election.

On Nov. 4, 2008, I was up at 5 a.m. ready to knock on doors and make phone calls on behalf of the Obama campaign. It would be the only time in my adult life I would ever actively participate in anything political, and I wouldn’t be disappointed. As the fall election season in 2008 was slowly winding down, the “Hope and Change” bandwagon sweeping across the U.S. was huge, and the movement to replace then outgoing president George W. Bush with then Illinois senator Barack Obama was gaining steam as it headed toward the finish line.

One Saturday in October, I was reading in my Brandon Sun about some Canadian college kids from B.C., who were crossing the border into Washington to help with the Obama campaign. I thought the experience would be amazing. It was my wife Tracy who asked “Why don’t you go?”

Politics has always been a great “sport” to watch. And I was simply a spectator. A fan. Not to mention not a citizen of the U.S.

But when I read online it was not only legal to volunteer for a campaign, but more and more Canadians were going to help, I thought “Why don’t I go?”

So I emailed the Moorhead, Minn.. campaign office and told them I was coming to help. Anna Humphries, who is now a speech writer in Washington, wrote me an email saying “They would put me to work ASAP.”

Then, the morning after Halloween 2008, I loaded up my car and filled the gas tank and headed for Fargo, N.D. And yes, when I got there they put me to work. From 6 a.m. to 11 p.m., for three days straight I made phone calls and knocked on doors helping not only the Obama campaign, but also for former “Saturday Night Live” cast member Al Franken who was running for the senate. I met some wonderful people with great stories of why they were helping.

Like Carol, who went to Grand Forks as a high school senior to watch John Kennedy speak in September 1963, just two months before he was killed. And how as we walked the streets going door-to-door she would tell the story of how her and her friends got within feet of JFK. Or, how Obama reminded her of Kennedy, and how inspiring they both were.

Then, there was Bruce from North Carolina, who grew up in the 1960s and told me he was working to make Obama the first black president. Bruce is white, but remembered as a boy being beaten badly by his father after drinking from a water fountain marked “coloured.” I’ll never forget him telling me “As a young boy, I thought the water coming out of the fountain was purple or orange or blue. As in coloured water. Then my dad beat me. Bad. I asked myself why he had to do that my whole life. And now I’m here.”

Then, there was the mom of a campaign staffer working for Franken. She told me stories about how her son and the comedian drove across Minnesota, gathering support for his campaign and his eventual run for senate, telling jokes and sometimes forgetting to fill the car and nearly running out of gas.

The day before election day, one voter had called campaign headquarters to say he had just had surgery and could not make it to the polls, so someone had to take him a ballot. The campaign office thought such a task would be perfect for the Canadian helper, so I was asked to see a judge at the Clay County Courthouse where I had to swear to take the ballot to a man in the hospital. I also had to swear I wouldn’t tamper or coerce the man in his voting process. I was given the giant ballot and immediately took it to the man in the hospital so he could vote. I’ll never forget how emotional he was when I walked in, his mother at his side, and how grateful he was that I would bring him the ballot, coming from Canada to help his country in their time of need. Ironically, he knew where Brandon was — many Americans don’t know where Winnipeg is so it surprised me. Turns out he had a brother move to become a teacher in a town called Dauphin. He asked if I knew where that was. We had a great chat like we were old friends. I didn’t take pictures but will always remember the emotion and the smiles.

The morning of the election I was up extra early. I took my coffee down to the local mall to watch people slowly walk in and vote. Then it was to one of the schools in the area, and finally to the university in Moorhead.

I remember being sent to one polling station to simply count voters as they arrived, and being asked to turn my Obama shirt inside out as to not provide any last-minute advertising for the campaign. I remember the beautiful weather. The fall colours. The excitement about hope and change in the air, and the history about the be made. I drove seniors to the polls. I drove college kids to the polls. I made phone calls out of state even though polls were closed in Minnesota. And we called out west to remind people to vote.

It was organized chaos and a true adrenalin rush for anyone who ever liked politics.

Late that night, all campaign workers were asked to go to the Moorhead Marriott for the results of the election. Balloons, food, drinks and excitement filled the room. I remember having a discussion with one volunteer about how to make perogies, when the room erupted like nothing I’ve ever seen before and will likely never see again. CNN projected Obama had won and the ballroom was going bananas.

Imagine everyone hugging like they had all won the lottery, high fives and handshakes and people crying. People were sobbing. It was all so amazing, powerful and historic. It is something I will never forget. It was truly a magical experience. And I remember thinking “I’m so exhausted, my feet are sore and my voice is almost gone, but this is the best feeling in the world.”

My sports teams have never won a championship. I’m thinking that must be what it’s like. That night, it felt like I was part of something incredible. And it was something I will never forget.

Fast forward eight years. Tuesday, my thoughts will be with voters who will once again make a choice for president, but this time it’s not hope and change in the air. But rather anxiety, fear and disappointment.

Soon, Obama and his family will leave the White House, and another person will take his place. Tuesday night we will know who that person is. And if there’s one lesson that stood out for me, in my time in Minnesota in 2008, was every vote counts.

We all know Obama won the presidential election, but remember Al Franken? His race was so close against Republican Norm Coleman, that the race results weren’t made official until April of the following year because of court challenges. In the end, out of the three million votes cast, Mr. Franken won by just over 300 votes.

Could I have influenced 300 people? It’s impossible to know. All I know is I came back a different person than the one who left for the election in 2008. If “Rudy” got to play for Notre Dame because he ran onto the field for two short football plays, then I got to be a part of a presidential election. And it was amazing.

To Manitoba’s U.S. ex-pats, please make sure you vote. And good luck Tuesday — you’re going to need it.

JOKE THIS WEEK

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» Tyler Glen is a radio DJ on Star-FM. He writes a weekly column for the Brandon Sun.