Moment(um) 2

It is election day, 2004. I am driving across the Water Street bridge in Elmira, crossing the Chemung on my way from a south side polling station to a north side polling station. I have been awake for the last 44 hours, dropping literature, preparing canvasses, and now checking polling places for turnout information. A stack of poll watcher certificates flutters in the breeze on the passenger seat of my Taurus. They make me feel incredibly important. The day is cool and kind, with a high pale overcast. The sun is a glowing smudge, like someone crushed a lightening bug against the sky. I hear Bob Edwards voice on the radio, reporting that turnout is unexpectedly high. A Kerry campaign official confidently asserts that they are on track to win.

Everything, I think, is still in the balance.