I almost wasn't one of the 80,000...

By now you have seen or at least heard about the specatacle that was the fourth day of the Democratic National Convention. For the first time since President Kennedy's nomination, a candidate has selected to open his nominating speech to more than the delegates, the press, and a select few of honored guests.

Just a few weeks before the convention and much to the chagrin of the media who had already spent millions of dollars to set up their stages, satelites, and other necessities, the Obama campaign announced that they were going to move their last night of the convention from the 15,000 seat Pepsi Center to the 80,000 seat Invesco Field (aka "Mile High Stadium." This may not sound like a major undertaking, but believe me, it was.

Denver was literally SHUT DOWN. The highway entering and leaving the city was completely shut down, the city was at a stand still. As delegates, we were told that the shuttles that were scheduled to take us to the stadium would cease operating at 2:00. The events didn't even begin until 4:00. Obama's speech wasn't until 8:00. I certainly didn't want to spend my entire day waiting in an empty stadium. I decided I would take the Denver light rail system to Invesco Field around 2:30.

When I arrived at the train station, there were hundreds of people; surprisingly we all fit in the train that was leaving. I wasn't ready for what I found when the train arrived. There was a line that literally went on for at least a mile. As a delegate, I knew that I had some priority to get through; what I didn't know was that the only way to get that priority was to have arrived on the shuttle bus.

When we finally reached the end of the line, some of us noticed that there was a large group of people choosing to cross a bridge (that was also closed to traffic) over I-25 and walk to another side of Invesco Field from where we currently were. Assuming that the lines to the other entrance had to be shorter than the one we were currently looking at, I chose to take my chances. I walked an additional two miles. Security was incredibly tight. There were cops every where; but of course none of them had any answers as to the best place to go.

As I rounded the corner to the other side of Invesco, war protestors began yelling. We followed the line to where we thought it would end, about a half a mile up the road. We hit a hill where the line wrapped around. I could hardly believe it. Up the hill and down the street, the line had no end. Vendors sold water, t-shirts, buttons...anything with Obama on it. But the line did not end. Finally, I came upon a huge parking lot where not only did the line not end, it snaked around nearly 9 times. I coudln't believe my eyes. I got more and mroe irritated as I realized there was really no way I was going to get in that building for nearly 3 hours. It was already past 4:00 by this time. I tried to find what I thought was the end of the line. It looked as though there might have been three different "ends of the line."

For a brief moment, I stood in line. However, my anxiety grew as others in line grew anxious, the hot weather seemed too hot, and my patience grew thin. I called a fellow delegate who hadn't left yet and told her not to come. It seemed impossible that the miles of people waiting in line would ever reach the entrance. I hesitated for a moment; exhausted and concerned that people who were waiting for so long would soon grow so fed up that fights would break out, I decided to leave the line and look for a taxi. As I left, I ran into the former Governor Gray Davis and his wife. Even they couldn't avoid the line. There was simply no way to get in except for waiting.

I found a street that was still open and hailed a taxi. Three other people (a delegate, his wife, and a newspaper reporter) who were equally concerned decided to join me. Our taxi driver took us back in to Downtown Denver. My new friends and I commisserated at how poorly organized it was to have so many people trying to get through so few security screenings. My concern was that people I had met in line were volunteers who had flown in from out of state to work long hours for no benefit except that they were promised a seat at the Invesco Field event. It was truly disappointing. I thought for sure this whole event was going to blow up in the Obama campaign's face.

While returning, I received a call from my friend. There was one more shuttle bus that was going to leave from the Westin that would take us past security and into the field.

The taxi driver dropped us off at the Westin and I met up with my friends. However, something still didn't sit well with me; something told me that not all was going to be okay. I got on the bus, but was concerned. At the next stop, I told my friends I just didn't feel right. I know it's hard to understand my concern because we all know the event was pretty much a success; but at the time, I had real concerns. I decided to get off the bus and told my friends I would see them afterward. Disappointed but understanding, my friends bid me farwell and I got off the bus.

The bus was stuck at the stop light. I had taken about 15 steps when a voice inside me said, "Erik, if you miss this, you'll really regret it. Get back on the bus." Hesitantly, I knocked on the bus door. It opened. My friends cheered. Like it or not, I was back on.

We got Invesco pretty quickly and the bus took us straight to a parking lot reserved only for delegates and special guests. We breezed through the separate security and were in the stadium within 5 minutes.

Obviously, the event went off without a hitch. There were many articles and news briefs about the lines, but none measured up to the level of upheaval that I thought would occur. In some ways, I am happy the day unfolded as it did. Don't get me wrong, I do wish I had known about the shuttles leaving after 2 p.m. and wish I had avoided the whole mess altogether (I was tired, hungry, dehydrated, and frustrated at the end of it all). However, suffering through what 75,000 (and really more than that when you consdier all the people who turned around) other people who didn't have 'special credentials' gave me an appreciation for the level of enthusiasm people had to be a part of history. They really wanted to be there and were willing to stand in line for more than 3 hours in the searing heat to be a part of this historic event. It was humbling.