We arrived at the Sam Houston Race Park at 7:40 AM. SD7 Chair, Steve Gross, had asked my son William if he would serve as a page/runner for him during the convention. (Originally, we had just wanted to be sure that he would be allowed to attend in order to fulfill part of his Citizenship in the Community Merit Badge requirements.) My daughter, Katie, wanted to volunteer as well, so Steve agreed to put them both to work. He also asked if we could round up a U.S. flag and a Texas flag, with poles and stands. Huge thanks to Boy Scout Troop 626 (William's troop, sponsored by Windwood Presbyterian Church, in Houston), for loaning us the U.S. flag, and to Troop 1323, (sponsored by our church, Plymouth United Church, UCC, in Spring) for loaning us the Texas flag. Both stepped up to help with only one or two days' notice.

Registration didn't open until 8 AM, but carrying the flags and stands, we were able to walk straight into the Pavilion where the convention would be held. Volunteers were busy setting up and testing computers and networking. Surveying all the empty chairs that filled the room, I had a feeling there wouldn't be enough to hold us all. We quickly found Steve and he directed us to the stage so we could set up the flags. William turned to him and asked, "Can I lead the Pledge of Allegiance?"

My jaw about hit the floor. Did my son realize that the room would be filled with thousands of people? I had that curious mix of shock, pride, and apprehension that I think only a mother can really understand. Steve asked William if he knew the Texas pledge. "The old words, or the new?" asked William. Okay, I don't know the Texas pledge, let alone that there were old words or new.

"New," Steve told him.

William recited the pledge very clearly, without hesitation. The man who had originally been planning to lead the Pledge graciously stepped aside - even thanking William for doing it for him. We registered - I was among the first, since I was already inside the Pavilion - as delegate and volunteer, and donned our badges.

Little did we know, then, that the opening of the convention wouldn't occur until around 3 PM. It was going to be a long day.

William's and Katie's first job was to count the people in line. This is what the line looked like early on:

I got up to stretch my legs and find our Delegate Chair, Dan Feldmann. I found him, and my son, not too far apart. William walked up to us and pointed at a man in front of Dan. "One thousand forty-one..." There are jobs you just couldn't pay me enough to do. Dan stuck his hand out and introduced himself to William. "Are you sure it's not two thousand fifty-seven?"

"Oh, stop it!" I hate it when people do that to me. William just grinned. "Nope. One thousand forty-one." He pointed at Dan and said, "One thousand forty-two..." and went right on adding to it. He disappeared from view. I looked down the line, got to about twenty-five, and felt a whole slew of brain cells explode. This is why they invented turnstiles.

Huge crowds in closed in places give me the willies. I asked everyone I met to keep an eye out for my son, make sure he didn't get trampled. And they did. (I didn't worry too much about anyone trampling Katie - she's 6'3" and despite her slender frame, she has a way of intimidating people. She wasn't likely to get trampled underfoot.) I got so many compliments from people on my children that it made my heart (and, okay, maybe my head, too) swell with pride. And as I talked to more and more people, all began to feel - at least temporarily, and by virtue of our all being Democrats and delegates to the convention - like one huge, extended family. If there were "heated conflicts" between the Clinton and Obama camps, I didn't see them. Lots of friendly teasing and a few impassioned (but short) debates, but nothing approaching a level that made me worry.

Everyone around me understood that I was a mother first, and a Democrat second. (Hey, I have my priorities straight!) They helped me to get some good pictures, and a video that I will treasure forever:

It took forever (or so it seemed) to work out all the technical (sound, video) and procedural kinks, to get everyone's credentials verified, and to take care of regular convention business. What I suspect would normally be the pro forma election of the permanent Convention Chair and Convention Secretary became an interesting exercise in Parliamentary Procedure. (Kudos to the temporary - later permanent - Secretary, Christina Todd, for putting together a program full of helpful information, including a really nice two-page "cheat sheet" on Robert's Rules of Order.) At this point in the proceedings, there was no huge rush - we could not get started until each delegation received a form with the permanent list of delegates and alternates representing their precincts. A group of people seated behind me tried to make a nomination - I think that what they really wanted was clarification of the process, and to know just how people became candidates for these positions in the first place - and Steve didn't see or hear them. There was some outrage as these people felt ignored, and went up front to protest. I went up to listen and vouch for them - and to explain to their representative that the large pole between them and Steve was the hindrance to their nomination being ignored. Steve reopened the floor and several individual groups made nominations, then. One woman declined the nomination, saying that she thought Steve was doing a fantastic job. Another candidate ran, saying that Steve was doing the best job he could, but that he was running for change, and if people wanted change, they should vote for him:

All in all, it was good entertainment. Steve was elected Permanent Chair, and Christina Todd was elected Permanent Secretary. But the nominations for Secretary gave Christina Todd an opportunity to "run" for the position and highlighted just how supremely qualified she is to do just about any job she's called upon to do, and just how involved she's been in politics and the Democratic Party for many years. Frankly, she didn't look old enough to have done all that...

Katie got to wear her friend Jackie's yellow delegate badge for just a minute (long enough for me to snap this picture):

There were some misunderstandings and hurt feelings in our delegation as people realized that our Precinct Captain and Delegate Chair, Dan F., was sharing information and strategies with both Obama and Clinton camps. He attended both training sessions and emailed all of the delegates. I was never sure who he was voting for, but in his official capacity, I thought he remained admirably neutral. I think his main interest throughout this whole process was in helping the disenfranchised and clueless get up to speed and vote. He is involved in Demos and Project Vote. I found him to be helpful and forthcoming with information and answers. But not everyone saw it that way, and a few practically accused him of being a spy. Rather than argue or debate, he left early to watch his son's ball game and take care of his sick daughter. I think he had his priorities straight, too.

Jackie was disappointed not to be chosen as our delegate to the State Convention in Austin. But the man we chose, Michael C., was retired from the Air Force, committed to Obama, and spoke eloquently on the issues that matter to all of us. The Clinton contingent won the Alternate slot.

Once that part was over, it was after 6 PM. People started leaving then. Katie had left at 4; William and I stuck around long enough to be sure that we could take back the flags and were no longer needed by Steve. I realized I'd had about six French fries all day, and was ravenous. William suggested Outback Steakhouse, and J.J. agreed. I don't think I've ever enjoyed a steak more than I did at dinner last night, and I cleaned my plate - then followed it with half an apple cobbler. I honestly don't remember much after we got home - I know that I was in bed by 9 PM, and dead to the world until it was time to get up and go to church this morning!