We began on 34th St., then moved to Baltimore Ave. The guy at a house on Baltimore Ave. pulled us aside. “This is one of the most dangerous parts of town,” he said. “The only white people we ever see around here are cops, people looking for drugs or...”
“...Obama supporters?”
“Or Obama supporters.”
Our new friend was almost right. We only saw one white person during a day of canvassing in this inner city Indianapolis community -- a woman conducting a survey for the census bureau. And while we might have been in a dangerous part of town, there was absolutely nothing about it that felt dangerous. Mostly, we were simply feelin’ the love.
Charlene, in leopard cap, and her friend, a school janitor, pose with Charlene's brother and Adam.Charlene, a middle-age woman in a leopard cap, skipped a planned visit with her brother to race back home after we met her. We were walking past her house an hour later when she ran out with a bottle of Seven-Up and two glasses of ice. (She said she thought we might be parched. We were.)
Word that Adam and I were canvassing along Baltimore Ave. spread quickly. “Darlene, answer the door,” came the voice through the door after we rang one doorbell. “It’s probably those people reminding us to vote.”
Adam with two voters who we were successful in convincing to vote early in order to help speed the lines on Election Day.Let’s be clear. Nobody needs to remind the folks on Baltimore Avenue to vote. We were canvassing the neighborhood to encourage neighbors to vote before November 4th. Everyone was planning to vote, and many had already voted, but most wanted to hold out until Nov. 4th. They were concerned that an early vote might not count for some reason, and they didn’t trust absentee voting. The majority of people were willing to wait however long it would take to vote on Nov. 4.
The voting conditions throughout the inner cities of Indiana are abysmal. Just one day earlier, Adam and I had worked as precinct volunteers supporting voters who waited more than three hours to vote in one of the two voting booths in Gary, Indiana. One hundred thousand people, and just two voting booths available for early voters. The hundreds of people who stood in line expressed outrage at the voting conditions, but nothing could deter the celebratory atmosphere at the Lake County Superior Courthouse.
The line on the right is the "wait list" line; the line on the left is the "real line", which progresses for another hour beyond the point where this photo was taken at the Lake County Superior Courthouse.
Mrs. Robertson, age 91, a voter in Gary, IN, who waited in line for more than two hours to vote.Barack Obama represents more than hope to this community. Many thought they would never see the day when they would have the opportunity to vote for a black president. One exception: Mrs. Robertson, age 91, from Gary, Indiana. “Did you ever think you’d live to see this day?” I asked. Mrs. Robertson looked me square in the eye. “I did,” she said. “I absolutely did.”
The biggest challenge on Baltimore Avenue was convincing people that this was going to be a tight election. It’s easy to see why -- to my knowledge, 100% of the people we have met during the past two days are voting for Obama. In large part because they have never met a McCain supporter, many residents here think the media is just playing up the state in an attempt to evoke controversy. Others, like Charlene's friend, are praying for and visualizing success. "I'm a school janitor," she said. "I have Obama's picture above my desk. Every day, I say 'Good Morning, Mr. President."
Adam, in front of campaign headquarters in Gary, Indiana.Adam and I agreed that we probably made only a small difference in the campaign today. Everyone we met is going to vote. But the day made a difference in our lives. Adam said he had talked with more African-Americans in one day than he had in years. For me, it was a joy to celebrate this historic occasion and recapture a feeling that I had in the days when I volunteered in South Central after the riots. Neither Adam, thirtysomething, nor me, fiftysomething, was around during the height of the civil rights movement, but this sure feels like something akin to that time.
Tomorrow, we’ll be hitting the streets again, feet permitting. Despite the throbbing soles, today simply felt great.
