The Journal from Ground Zero Ohio, Part Two
By
Cherilyn J. Bacon
Read
Part One Here
The Anxiously Engaged Series seeks to establish a principle-based,
non-partisan- philosophy of politics. This is the second
in a series of articles, re-capping Latter-day Saint experiences
of the 2004 election and exploring a values-driven strategy
and public policy agenda. The journal to follow is Part 2
of an example illustrating a campaign experience from Bush
Cheney 2004 headquarters in Ohio. Experiences from readers
who participated in other values-driven campaigns, regardless
of party affiliation, are welcome. With the philosophy that
Latter-day Saints should be actively involved in their communities
and noting that the Church is politically neutral, Meridian
Magazine helped recruit volunteers for both parties during
the election.
Election Day, November 2, 2004 Continued
Meet the President
"Everyone clean up. The President's coming!"
shouted our executive director Darrin Klinger. "We've
got to get this place looking good." He was right.
It was a disaster zone at Bush campaign headquarters Ground
Zero Ohio. Papers were everywhere on the floor. I cleared
the area up, and suddenly members of the press corps began
squeezing in like sardines, pressing me against the cubicle
divider. I politely excused myself and went to the opposite
end of the room where I could breathe better. Two reporters
thanked me generously for clearing a spot for them.
Then it happened. The President Himself appeared.
There were only about 15 of us with him. He stood about two
feet from me, and one of the volunteers gave him the phone
receiver saying, "There's someone on the line that would
like to talk to you." Then, "Hi, this is President
Bush. How are you today?" Silence. Then, "No,
I'm not kidding. It really is me." We cracked
up. And my expression was forever pressed in print with mouth
wide open in the post-Election day story of the New York
Times. He got off the phone and confidently announced,
"Well, that's one-zero." More laughter. Even from
the disgruntled press corps.
All this time I kept thinking, "I've toured
and performed on stage with some mighty famous folks and celebrity
just doesn't faze me. They're real people. But I've lived
all these 54 years and have never really been this close to
a world power a U.S. President and for this length of
time in such a close setting. I know he's going to turn around
any moment now and speak to me. If this never happens again
in my life, what can I possibly say of any import?"
Just then he turned around
and extended his hand. So I said the only thing I could think
to say, "Hi, I'm from Utah." Pause. I couldn't believe it. Hi,
I'm from Utah!!! The Girl from Utah. Five electoral
votes. Great start. [OK, hint: Utah means LDS].
"And I'm with Meridian Magazine." [That's
better.] "We've helped recruit about 700 volunteers
to go to each of the battleground states to help you get elected."
He didn't seem to be in the slightest hurry. Fascinating.
He took his time, smiled, chitchatted, and thanked me. He
wasn't short on conversation and time, but he was short
(the President is 5 11). Isn't that funny? What an
odd thing to notice at such an important time.
The volunteer next to me had tears running down her
face. "Thank you, President Bush. We're praying for
you," she blurted out as she vigorously pumped his hand
up and down. (Why didn't I say that? I thought.)
He stopped, and then I saw his eyes mist over. He thanked
her and said that he too prayed daily. "I can feel those
prayers," he said. "Keep 'em coming. I need 'em,"
as he patted her hand.
You wonder about the sincerity of politicians in today's
world. While this president isn't perfect, and I don't agree
with every position, I saw and felt his sincerity today.
Also spoke with Laura Bush and Karen Hughes. I called
her Laura because that's what we call her. We don't go around
saying, "I saw Mrs. Bush on the news today." We
say, I saw Laura Bush this or that
" Oops. ProtocolIts
Mrs. Bush in person. But that faux pas didn't
faze her at all. And so comfortable did she make everyone feel, I
thought, "Aw, throw out the protocol at a time such as
this." I was able to get a little more detailed with
what Meridian was and that I was a Latter-day Saint
helping with the election.
[As Bart Marcois told me, "Our voices need to be heard
during the election so that we will be included in the policy
setting after the elections.]
Then I joked with our visitors, "No offense, but
even though we appreciate him coming, how long will he be
here? We've got to get back to work soon if he wants to get
elected." They laughed. Soon the President and First
Lady were whisked away out the back door through the kitchen,
gone as quickly as they had arrived.
A Great Lesson Learned
We've been wearing down emotionally from days and nights
of no sleep and were at each other's throats
a bit today. The computer file we carefully organized was
completely scrambled - had to re-create it while Peter took
a much-needed time-out. Then I mistakenly locked us out of
the computer, and no one knew the security password. Felt
awful. Every minute counted.
But the President's visit brought an energy that carried
the day. After we had done all we could do, we had one big
group hug. Someone commented how amazing it was that people
came from all over the country, had never met before, and
yet somehow people showed up with exactly the skills and experience
needed and worked together in unity and teamwork.
I learned a great lesson today. If the goal is a passionate
one that everyone believes in and the clock is running out,
you just do it. Everyone's dependent on each other
and everyone's important. No time for ego or dissention.
As the soggy, drizzly day progressed, I got several
phone calls from friends and from our own technical director,
Justin Hart, monitoring the results as they came in. While
everyone expected us to have some inside information, the
truth was that we at Bush Cheney Ohio headquarters were in
the biggest blackout of all. We didn't have time to listen
to the news, we were making the news. We had no sense
of the real world. All we felt was that if we got out every
voter on our lists, George Bush would win. So to us, the
job was to get the flushers out, report back, and phone bank
those who had not yet voted and get them out.
A victory party was scheduled, but I had no voice and
was too exhausted to celebrate. Went straight to the hotel,
packed, listened to the election results and drifted off,
not even knowing if we had won or lost.
Wednesday, November 3, 2004. The radio went off with good news. Got dressed,
packed, checked out and returned to headquarters to help clean
up. My, how fast that place transformed from campaign central
into The Twilight Zone! Bought some more cough drops and
got myself to the airport. Saw some dejected volunteers turning
in their rental cars, obviously Kerry supporters. On the
elevator I said, "Well, to quote the President, it's
hard work, isn't it?" Oops. Not a time for humor.
She looked at me with despair, "They don't know what
they've done," she mourned. "They just don't know
what they've done. They're stupid!" No comment.
I know how it feels to lose. I felt a little sorry for
her.
In
all, about 5% of the observers and flushers in that Ohio County
came from Latter-day Saint volunteers, and it all started
with just one phone call to a devoted Latter-day Saint leader
named Ernie Shannon.
Latter-day Saint Volunteers: 50% in Akron
Latter-day
Saint volunteers from both parties rallied full time for the
campaigns they had been assigned to through www.anxiouslyengaged.org.
From Friday to Tuesday they were assigned to anything from
poll observing to phone banking to poll flushing to door-to-door
each get out the vote tasks. The Bush campaign called
it the 72-Hour Task Force. It had a Latter-day Saint survival
ring to it, like The 72-Hour Emergency Kit. Volunteers
were all ages. One 12-year old boy spent all day on the phones,
so mature and professional. At the end of the day, the staff
gave him a big applause. Entire families came together to
help. The air was full of excitement.
Bart
Marcois, who had helped create the non-partisan www.anxiouslyengaged.org
website, was sent to Summit County Akron, Ohio. With two
weeks to go before Election Day and with his volunteer database
in hand, he took on the arduous task of campaign marshal.
His job: to fulfill the county GOTV campaign, mobilizing and
managing the volunteers.
He
reported "over 500 people were deployed nationally and
over 700 others were ready to go. Those last two weeks of
the election, I survived on one to two hours of sleep a night.
By Election Day, I couldn't even count to 12."
"The
local party had lots of volunteers, but because they had become
aware of possible voter fraud, I needed extra help on ground,"
Marcois said. "We had to pull out 300 volunteers to
be poll observers and replace them with more volunteers.
I started working the phones to find local people through
my own Church and the Catholic Church networks friends,
and relatives of friends of mine."
Marcois
handled things appropriately, of course avoiding use of church
lists, and no solicitation of church members. "One
Latter-day Saint gave me the names of six others, and a few
others gave me more names. From just talking to that one
person, over 40 church members, men, women and children, stepped
up as volunteers in the last week of the election. In the
end, 50% of the poll observers were LDS."
That's
about 3% of the Latter-day Saint population in Akron, a county
where Latter-day Saints only comprise about 3/10ths of a percent
of the population. "The church members felt a need
to get involved, but that applied to everyone, regardless
of religious background," Marcois explained.
One
night they had over 200 volunteers in one room phone banking,
from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. "At the end of the day, we told
them all to stop, that it was time to end for the night,"
Marcois said. He asked for a show of hands of how many had
never volunteered in any political campaign before. "Over
75 % raised their hands," he said. "There were Mormons,
Catholics, Evangelicals, union members, and the unions had
endorsed Kerry, you remember."
LDS
volunteers brought children and entire families. Marcois
had kids making telephone calls too. "Teens were actually
more effective than some adults," he said. "The
only people more effective than the teens were the senior
citizens." They worked 12-hour days. "They loved
it," he said. "They all said the same thing: 'You
know what? This is the most rewarding thing I've done in
years. I've always wanted to have an impact greater than
my vote, but never knew how to do it.'"
Repeated Around the Country
This
scenario repeated around the country. The Kevin and Denise
Warner family of Orem, Utah shared their experience in Minnesota.
Kevin
and Denise saw the notice in Meridian to volunteer through
www.anxiouslyengaged.org
and applied. "We had four family members plus friends
and neighbors. Nine in all," Denise said. "Trey
and Haley Warner, our nephew Cameron Treu, our son's roommate
Sean Langdon, and three girls roommates Carli Webster, Eliza
Frazier and Mary Hamilton."
"It
was neat," Denise said. "The campaign was led by
young people in their 20s. One of the main gals at headquarters
her name was Rose got emotional. She said, "My family
is in Israel. No one else will protect them."
The
Warners felt that since Utah only has five electoral votes
and they were definitely going to Bush, their service could
be better used elsewhere. "This was a way to really
grow our vote and make a difference," Kevin said. "Our
kids got to see how it works, too. Many people who found
out what we did when we returned would have done it too, if
they had known about it. Think what can happen in 2008."
Minnesota
state election laws allow voters to register even on Election
Day itself and without a license or ID. Some might argue
that breeds voter fraud. "You can simply use a utility
bill or someone can vouch for you," Kevin said.
Carli
and Kevin were poll challengers and legally allowed to request
voter's ID. It was a tough job, but protecting the integrity
of the election was so important to the Warners, they didn't
mind. "We sat there with the other party's people.
I said to the voters, 'You need to show me your ID.' Twenty
minutes later the election judge went around to everyone saying,
'You don't have to show your ID.' I went to the table where
they were vouching for people and continued to make sure they
knew the person's name. I knew there were people who were
vouching for people they didn't know. At first, they didn't
really like me, but I finally won them over," Kevin said.
Denise
enjoyed helping with the little jobs that needed to be done.
"We also went door to door, and then I helped with organizing
paperwork. We had speakers come in, and we listened to them.
I took food to the different precincts to the workers, and
we helped people from place to place, as they finished their
shifts. Everyone was so tired."
"We
became very close as a group," Kevin added. "We
ran into some wonderful, beautiful members of the Church that
saw this election as a crossroads.
"There
were some altercations with protestors too," Denise added.
"They were picketing every day." The Warner's were
great examples of how to respond to the conflicts that often
arise in hotly contested political races. "We ended
up having calm, peaceful conversations with some of the picketers,"
she said. "We even got the phone number of one and are
sending a Book of Mormon. And Trey got on the news. It was
a mixture of a lot of work and a lot of fun."
The
Warner's know their presence kept the incidence of fraud down.
"I just want to let people know this is so important,"
Kevin said.
It's Hard Work
And
hard work it was. As a Latter-day Saint, it was a privilege
to work alongside others not of our faith. Such was my experience
with Melissa Sharp, a member of the U.S. Commission on Civil
Rights, graduate in journalism/poly sci from Ohio State University,
who came from D.C. She summed it all up: "Sleep? I
got four hours a night working till midnight, back by six
the next morning," she said. "But this was a great
campaign. When the President came in, it was thrilling.
I was so excited. He told us to keep working. My cell phone
kept ringing. Finally, I got off and he put his hands on
my shoulders and said, 'Thanks for all your hard work. God
bless.' He was so sincere, from the bottom of his heart.
And Laura was amazing. She looked impeccable. It sent a
burst of encouragement. Our momentum was at high speed.
It was like a machine. We were all going crazy. Then he
came and stopped everything. As soon as he left, the machine
started right back up again."
There's
nothing quite like the adrenaline of a political campaign.
"Yes, we were stressed," Melissa admitted. "And
yes it was crunch time. But we knew we could sleep the next
weekend. We went to the election party downtown and waited
till four a.m. to hear the results. It wasn't until then
that we sang, danced and cheered. Then we crashed until the
following Monday."
Post-Election Recollections
Peter
Sperry, a Latter-day Saint who is Senator Voinovich's legislative
assistant in Washington, D.C. recently spoke about his experience
as marshal of the Ohio Franklin County Bush Cheney campaign.
He was in charge of all the precincts in Franklin County,
making sure every one was covered with "flushers"
- campaign workers that go to each polling place and check
off the voters who have not yet voted and report it to the
campaign.
Peter
noticed that a true spirit of teamwork prevailed. "It
was that whole thing of unbelievable cooperation of getting
everyone in and out to their assigned precincts and then getting
them back out again a second time. We covered 115 precincts,
and we did it twice in one day. Everybody kept their
spirits up."
He
too felt the intensity of Election Day. "Everyone was
just fired up and so enthusiastic in the morning. Along toward
mid-day as people came back with their reports, and the exit
polls started coming in, some were beginning to get discouraged.
I remember saying, 'Today we don't listen to the news,
we make the news.