Months of frenzied preparation and sleepless nights have led the Democratic and Republican presidential campaigns to this moment: the final showdown for control of the White House.
The next president may owe his victory to the efforts of thousands of campaign workers in this battleground state.
It's a tale of two campaigns. Remote-controlling their statewide operations from Center City, the Democrats have taken advantage of Philadelphia's resources and liberal population to make the most of their city-centric base.
In contrast, the Republicans have woven a web for themselves across the state, with smaller offices that concentrate specifically on their surrounding area. Tucked away in the quiet suburb of Radnor, Pa., the Philadelphia office is notably devoid of the hustle and bustle characteristic of the opponent's headquarters.
Whirlwind preparations characterize Democrats' hub
By Farouk Samad
From their office in Philadelphia's Center City, the Democrats coordinate press relations, outreach efforts, legal issues and basic grassroots campaigning, striving to ensure a Kerry victory in the crucial state of Pennsylvania.
The Democratic headquarters radiates energy. Phones ring constantly, people walk briskly from office to office and everyone knows that they will be here until well past 5 p.m., a reflection of the importance of the state and the election.
An electoral map of Pennsylvania that displays the outcome of the 2000 election hangs on the wall of the press office and highlights the difficulty of winning the state.
Most of the map is painted in shades of red for Republican, in contrast to small bright blue Democratic areas centered around Philadelphia and Pittsburgh.
"There's lots of intensity in this state," press office staffer Michael Gordon says, noting that Pennsylvania's swing state position has amplified the campaign's energy. "I've never seen intensity like this, and for good reason, too."
Gordon, a Penn alumnus who owns a public affairs firm in New York City, previously worked on both Clinton campaigns, but only arrived at the Philadelphia headquarters a month ago.
"We manage the event to the media," he says. "If Bush is coming, we plan some sort of response."
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No two days are the same at the 1528 Walnut St. office, as people respond to events as they happen. However, there is a general strategy based on aggressiveness in every part of the state.
"We've got offices like this over the state," Communications Director Mark Nevins says. "We have to strategically and surgically find Democrats and get them to turn out."
The campaign clearly benefits from its Center City location, as volunteers can easily find it and offer their services. Though there are 75 staffers, they are outnumbered by the ordinary citizens who do much of the fieldwork.
"They're the lifeblood of the campaign," Gordon says. "They're doing phone banking, door knocking -- they are the heart, soul and legs of field operations."
Two Penn students, including Penn College Democrats Political Outreach Chairman Dan De Rosa, assist in the office during their spare time. De Rosa ended his unpaid internship in the communications department in August, and now works there as often as he can.
"I do things involving press. I put together media lists, news clips, ... small amounts of research," he says. "I was interested in getting really into the middle of the campaign, how the inner process of a campaign works."
Other young volunteers are in between jobs or postponing graduate school to devote themselves to the election. Some have even joined the staff full-time.
"I couldn't sit at home and wait for people to do the things that needed to be done," says Christean Dominguez, who directs the recently established volunteer center and who is taking time off from law school. "It was a fairly big decision, but an easy decision."
Some have discovered a vocation through their internships.
"It's great -- I want to continue it for life," says Naeemah Nelson, a recent graduate of George Washington University, who assists in the press office answering phones and running errands. "I definitely see myself doing this."
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Today will unquestionably be the busiest day of the last several months for the Pennsylvania headquarters. The communications and outreach departments, especially their volunteer workers, will go into overdrive, hitting home the reasons why people should vote for Kerry.
"Leading up to Election Day, the message is important," Gordon says. "On the day, the field operations make the difference and bring us victory."
Elation will obviously ensue if tonight's outcome is favorable, and it will be largely due to those unpaid workers -- mostly young, but some older -- temporarily abandoning their normal lives out of a strong dislike for President George W. Bush.
"Instead of sitting around doing nothing, I can donate my time to a worthy cause," says 51-year-old volunteer Jay Middleton, who is unemployed due to physical injuries.
If Sen. John Kerry wins, he says, "I'll be back in Rittenhouse Square playing my flute, knowing the world is a much better place after the change of guard, knowing I did my part."
Republicans focus on grassroots local tactics
By Cynthia Yeung
Hidden behind empty car parks and buildings with broken windows in the Philadelphia suburbs, the Southeastern Pennsylvania headquarters of the Republican campaign sits in an isolated corner of the Radnor Financial Center -- a 30-minute train ride from Penn.
According to Bush campaign spokesman Mark Pfeifle, the choice of this unpretentious location was strategic; the Radnor office is placed at the intersection of three counties.
"Our grassroots operation is in the inner cities of Pennsylvania," Pfeifle says, noting the decentralized nature of the Republican campaign. "Because of the makeup of our party, we need to focus more on where our voters live, so we're more spread out."
With over 50 offices across the state, and a chairman in each county, the Republican campaign coordinates its volunteers -- which can number between eight and 30 people at any given time at the Radnor office -- on a short leash. Volunteer recruitment relies heavily on local word of mouth.
"It's the neighbor coming out of his front door, saying, 'Where'd you get that yard sign?'" Pfeifle explains.
Daylight tends to see more senior citizens stuffing envelopes, whereas working-class volunteers and students help out during the evenings.
"The pizza comes in, ... some pepperoni, some cheese, stacked up to here," Pfeifle says, gesturing with his hand to indicate the amount of pizza consumed. "Wednesday night, I left here at 2 a.m., and there were still kids working."
***
Guy Ciarrocchi, executive director of the Pennsylvania George W. Bush campaign, speaks softly.
Given Pennsylvania's swing state status, one can't help but wonder if he carries a large stick behind his otherwise unassuming demeanor.
Ciarrocchi ought to be working in the Pennsylvania headquarters in Harrisburg, but he says his location doesn't matter too much.
The Harrisburg office is smaller, he says. He explains that the Republican campaign's decentralization necessitates more tightly knit offices focused on neighborhood concerns, as opposed to large war rooms managing statewide operations from afar.
The former public affairs director of the Archdiocese of Philadelphia is excited about the campaign's momentum.
Surrounded by a few partisan posters plastered haphazardly on the otherwise bare walls, the two dozen volunteers and staff members working quietly at their desks on a Friday afternoon two weeks ago seem to be mimicking their statewide strategy within the confines of the office: disperse to the corners in small groups and focus on the task at hand.
The vacant space in the middle of the office is offset by boxes full of campaign literature stacked against one wall.
"No two days are the same. ... Some days it's very hectic. On a scale of one to 10, today would be a six in terms of activity," Ciarrocchi says.
Ciarrocchi has been working for the campaign since March, and the dark bags under his eyes are a testament to the long hours he has dedicated to swinging Pennsylvania to the Right. Recounting how party leaders approached him to take the helm in the Keystone State, he recalls one of the primary factors in his decision.
"My wife agreed to let me do it," he says, with a small smile. "I was hesitant at first, knowing it'd be a big time commitment."
Nevertheless, he says he doesn't regret his decision.
"This is the only election I would've come out of retirement to do."
The last campaign Ciarrocchi worked on was for former Pennsylvania Sen. John Heinz, the deceased husband of Teresa Heinz Kerry.
Heinz Kerry is the second wife of Democratic presidential nominee Sen. John Kerry.
Ciarrocchi glosses over how his political life has seemed to come full-circle.
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Ciarrocchi's low-key attitude is perhaps reflected in the organization of the office.
Each cluster of volunteers communicates mostly within its own little community, hushed whispers occasionally punctuated by a sharp burst of excitement.
It is evident, however, that the Republican campaign would screech to a halt without its devotees -- volunteers who handle everything from database management to mass-mailings, while also acting as the vanguard in the old-school door-to-door campaigning.
Young or old, people from all walks of life are attracted to the campaign.
Short-haired and rosy-cheeked, with 79 years to her credit, political newbie Caroline Seifert swoons like a teenage schoolgirl when Bush is mentioned.
"Did you see him hugging the little girl after 9/11? ... That face, that's our president," she gushes. "He really cares, and he's not afraid to show his emotions."
Seifert has volunteered her time to the campaign for over a month.
"Sitting at home. ... That don't do any good. That won't help anybody," she says.
It is this same sense of personal duty that inspires Chris Solomon.
"It's an obligation," the young man says, words spilling out of his mouth as he explains why he began to volunteer several weeks ago. "It's interesting running into people with the same ideas. ... It's what the country is about -- agitation."
Working at the Republican campaign 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Solomon clearly treats his job at Temple University as his second priority.
Academic responsibilities have also been relegated to the back burner for volunteers like College senior Stephanie Steward, chairwoman of the College Republicans.
Unfazed by the half-hour commute to the office location, Steward often spends 15 to 20 hours working as a paid staff member for the campaign.
With the election drawing to a close, "It's just a little bit crazy in the office," she says.
