By Matthew K. Roy
Bill Nolan's story wouldn't be possible here.
If he lived in Salem, Mass., the stay-at-home dad would likely be spending a lot more time at home. But in Salem, N.H., Nolan is a volunteer cog in Sen. Barack Obama's tireless campaign machine.
"We're not going to stop," Nolan said during an interview last week in Obama's Salem, N.H., headquarters. "We're not going to ease up."
Seven days a week, up to seven hours a day, Nolan, 38, works on behalf of the Illinois senator. It means his two young daughters, when Nolan isn't driving one of them to dance class, spend their share of time among volunteers working the phones or stuffing envelopes.
A mile across town, retiree Mike Flathers returns every morning to the strip mall where Sen. John McCain's campaign has set up shop next to a music store and Sea World Pet Center. He goes name by name down a list of potential voters and extols the virtues of McCain and incumbent Sen. John Sununu, who is in a heated contest with Democratic challenger Jeanne Shaheen.
So far, Flathers has made 600 calls.
"My goal is to make a thousand," he said.
That is the type of math done in a battleground state. Phone calls are tallied, and so are crowd sizes at campaign rallies. As many as 5,000 people are expected to listen to Gov. Sarah Palin today at Salem (N.H.) High School.
Palin, the Republican vice presidential nominee, is not coming to the Witch City. It would be a waste of her time. Massachusetts, with Democratic-leaning communities like Salem, is considered a lock to support Obama next month. In campaign speak, the Bay State is a "blue" state.
But New Hampshire and its four electoral votes are up for grabs. It was a solid "red" state until 2004, when Democrat John Kerry won it by a narrow margin.
"Now, it's kind of a purplish color," Flathers said.
The season is reflected in more than the exploding foliage in Salem, N.H., a town of 30,000 people. The grassy border of busy Route 28 is a forest of campaign signs with the names of candidates for national and local offices. Every television commercial seems to tout one candidate or another.
"In New Hampshire, you get information overload," said Natalie Ducharme, a librarian at Salem's Kelley Library.
On top of an intense primary, the general election battle has led to campaign fatigue among some. "I think people have made up their minds and want to move on," Ducharme said.
Drive through downtown Salem, Mass., and there is scarce evidence we're on the verge of an election. Neither Obama nor McCain has an office here. You have to look hard to find a campaign sign. Three Obama signs were spotted on Friday, but they were outside the same Lafayette Street home.
"It's a matter of putting the resources in the area where you need it," said Kevin Harvey, chairman of the Salem (Mass.) Democratic City Committee. "That's why you see a tale of two cities."
If you spot either candidate in Salem, Mass., this month, it likely means a politically minded Halloween reveler has a good costume.
Nolan, meanwhile, has shaken Obama's hand twice at recent Granite State campaign stops near Salem and met Sen. Joe Biden once. On the wall in the Salem campaign headquarters is a photograph of Obama with one of Nolan's daughters standing in front of him.
Nolan crunches data to generate various lists of voters — undecided voters who haven't been called or undecided voters who have been called enough and are in line to receive a personal letter from the campaign, for example.
On weekends, the number of Obama volunteers in Salem, N.H., swells by the hundreds.
"They want to help Barack Obama, and there is nothing for them to do in Massachusetts," Nolan said.
Party activists from Salem, Mass., carpool north, primarily to Portsmouth, for the opportunity to participate. They make phone calls and knock on doors.
Marsha Finkelstein from Salem is a deputy field coordinator for Obama. It means she will spend every weekend from now until the election in New Hampshire.
"We need to do what we need to do," she said.
