There are many stories about this year's Presidential election. I would like to add my own.
On Election Day, I volunteered to drive people to the polls in Arapahoe County, Colorado. The Obama campaign had rented seven vans and we were dispatched from one of the field offices in Aurora. About mid-morning, I was sent to downtown Denver to pick up Rex. Armed with the address and assisted by my navigator Ron, we made our way into town. Without any trouble, thanks to Ron's GPS device, we found Rex's place at 1746 Emerson Street.
Several men sat outside on the porch. They looked pretty rough. I approached the building and called out to one of the men if Rex was around. At first no one responded. But after alerting the men that I was the driver from the Obama office, Rex jumped up off the couch and identified himself.
Rex looked haggard and moved very gingerly. I asked Rex, "How are you doing this fine morning?"
Rex responded, "Not very well."
I inquired, "What's wrong?"
"Last night I walked myself to the hospital not feeling very well. It turns out my appendix ruptured and I had an appendectomy. This morning I walked back to my room here at the house to get my mail-in ballot and now I need a ride to the polling place to turn in my ballot."
I was stunned by Rex's revelation. And I had no reason not to believe his story. It was apparent that he was in a lot of pain as Ron and I situated him in the back seat of the van. Rex could not even close the passenger door of the van. I jumped out and closed it for him.
Rex looked ragged. His clothes were filthy, He reeked of stale tobacco. All of his teeth were missing, except for one rotting tooth.
I thought to myself, "Rex probably has or had a serious drug problem. He shows all the classic signs of abusing crystal meth."
We drove Rex to his polling place at the First Unitarian Church on Lafayette Street. As we drove, I commented that this was going to be a big day for Barack Obama.
Rex said, "I won't tell you who I'm voting for because I don't want you to think that you're buying my vote with this free ride." I respected Rex for his privacy.
We found the church and helped Rex out of the van. Rex disappeared into the polling place.
As we waited for Rex to return, I asked Ron, "Do you think Rex lives in a half-way house or shelter?"
"It looks like it to me," Ron replied.
It turns out after researching the address that it is apparently a boarding house that attracts a lot of down and out people. The first hit on Google revealed that in May of 2008, a parolee named James Stewart, wanted for several robberies in the area, had been shot and killed in the house by his parole officer.
In short order, Rex returned to the van. As we helped him get settled into his seat, Rex asked, "Would it be too much to ask for you to drive me back to the hospital?"
"Which hospital?"
"St. Joseph's."
"No problem. I will be happy to do so."
On the way to the hospital, Rex declared, "I hope Obama wins. I voted for him."
I smiled. Rex had made my day.
We drove Rex to St. Joseph's. Rex got out of the van and slowly trudged back into the hospital. He didn't look very good.
It's amazing what people will do to exercise their right to vote.
And Rex, as down and out as he appeared to be, one day removed from major surgery, displayed unbelievable character and citizenship.
On Tuesday, I was so proud of my fellow Americans. But none so prouder than Rex.
I was humbled. If Barack could only know what Rex had done he would be too.
Pierre Cutler
The Sacramento Executive
