Flipping the Tenth: The day before

The Monday before election day I canvassed in Virginia's Tenth Congressional District to the west of me for three hours, completing my assignment of knocking on 47 doors (or at least walking by them) in the hopes of speaking to 75 registered voters inside those houses.  I was working a list that had been worked for the two days prior, with notes of conversations the Jennifer Wexton campaign volunteers had with persons who opened their doors and check marks for the designation, Not Home. My instructions were to knock on every door in the hopes of speaking to a person in those Not Home houses, and to converse again with those who had been actually contacted either or both of the two days before.

I was dubious about re-canvassing houses where the people had already said the day before that they were voting for Wexton or against Barbara Comstock, the two-term republican Congresswoman. My common sense doubt proved itself at the first two houses where occupants answered.  At the first, a child answered and declared who I was and who I was working for and asked to speak to her mother.  The young girl went off to get her mom, leaving the door ajar. A moment later the door invisibly closed and I heard the lock click.

At the next house where the door opened, a trim well groomed elderly man listened to my preamble and came out on the porch with a hard look on his face and announced that this was the third day in a row "you people" have come by and noting my University of Colorado cap I graduated from that university), said "You must have come straight from Colorado [where they have legalized recreational marijuana], been smoking' that weed, and think that if you bother me enough times I'll do what you want.  Take me off your list!"  My thoughts flashed back to my second day of canvassing where such a menace-laden situation had developed suddenly and the occupant threatened to shoot me.  I learned a long time ago (during my policeman days) that the best initial response is deescalation and I hurriedly and pointedly made scribbling marks on my clipboard, and looked up at him and winked.  His visage softening a little with hints of mirth, he said, "I have never voted for Comstock but by God this could put me over the edge.  Now, when you leave, young man, be careful going down those stairs so you don't fall or I'll surely get sued."  I apologized, said I could understand how he would feel annoyed, lamely blamed all those voters who stayed home in 2016 because the outcome was so "certain" and, uh, I was merely following orders.  We got to talking about old times and departed a few minutes later as friends waving goodbye to each other.  But I thereupon junked the experiment of chatting up yet again persons in houses where a pollster had already talked to the occupant(s) that weekend, marking the Not Home box as I walked by the house.

This quickened the completion of my dedicated list on this rain-soaked day, and all other persons I spoke with were positive and some even grateful that I came by.  I am very encouraged and fairly confident that this district will vote blue today after four decades of being in the republican column.  My reward for my final canvassing effort in the Tenth was running into my Congressman Don Beyer at the Wexton HQ, about to go out and canvass himself for Wexton.