It all started with an earlier-than-usual wakeup call. I begrudgingly drug myself out of bed, pulled on my Butte College sweatshirt and headed for the kitchen. Usually the coffee is waiting for me when I get up, but not even my coffee pot wakes up before 6 a.m. I pushed the button and turned on the news.
Election Day 2008 flashed across the screen as annoyingly energetic anchors struggled to fill their Election Day time slots with useful information. After deciding that network news would be useless until at least 5 p.m. I poured my first cup of coffee. Less than an hour later I was walking in the wind. That’s right, walking.
My car, a ’96 Ford Explorer named Goldie, has been in the shop constantly these days leaving me with no choice but to walk everywhere I go. Despite my general lack of enthusiasm before 10 a.m., I was enormously excited about Election Day this year and so, even though my polling place is more than a mile from my house, I decided to walk.
Sweatshirt, scarf, beanie, gloves, jacket, backpack, purse and sample ballot in place I drudged toward the Neighborhood Church on Notre Dame Blvd.
Upon arrival I was surprised by the lack of commotion. There were no lines, no news crews and no fanfare whatsoever. Cars were coming and going with moderate consistency as people clutching sample ballots and pieces of lined note paper walked lackadaisically in and out of a single entrance.
A large sign bearing the words “VOTE HERE” hung on the door and as I walked toward the dome-shaped building I felt a sense of disappointment. Where were the crowds of excited voters? Where were the frenzied election officials frantically calling to request more ballots? And why in God’s name did I get up so early?
My disappointment was short lived. As I walked closer to the building I could hear the hum of excited voices. The hum grew to a rumble and then to a roar and as I pulled open the door I could hardly believe my eyes.
A line of voters swirled around the outer edge of the circular building. Small groups formed along the line and lively conversations escalated to debates. Voters young and old discussed the issues as officials in red vests prepared to open the poll.
At exactly 7 a.m. the line jolted forward and each vote was cast by either electronic or paper ballot. I reached the front of the line at 7:35 a.m. and after filling out my ballot, I stuffed it into an already full ballot box.
An elderly man wearing a WWII Veteran T-shirt stuck a white “I Voted” sticker onto my beanie (an odd choice of placement I must admit) smiled, and ushered me to the door.
Outside, the scene had changed completely. Clusters of voters fresh from the poll gathered to discuss their predictions.
Three black women held hands as they walked toward a van barely visible beneath a stratum of “Obama ‘08” stickers, banners and window paint. A young couple climbed out of a pickup truck bearing a “Hockey Moms for Palin” sticker on the tailgate, as two beach cruisers sped toward the church.
I joined a group of walkers that was making its way back to the street. As the group headed toward Skyway the conversation turned to voter inspiration.
“I have never been more excited about an Election Day” said one walker. “I usually don’t vote but today is history in the making. I had to be a part of it.”
I parted ways with the group on Forest Ave. and headed toward the Butte Chico Center for my 8 a.m. class.
Later, as I sat on my couch glued to the televised election coverage, I realized just how right my fellow walker was when she said that this year was truly historical.
As President-elect Barak Obama, the first black president in the history of the United States, delivered a speech to a diverse crowd of more than 100,000, I felt the thrill of significance.
No matter what end of the political spectrum we find ourselves, we were all, at that moment, witness to something extraordinary. Nov. 4 marked the beginning of a new era in our country, one that I am proud to be a part of.