In the coming months, and years, I will remember this campaign season very bitter-sweetly.

When I think about what happened during the race for the White House and the eventual history that was made—I think about the three things that I lost that were very important to me: Two really great friends and one really great apartment.

Now, I didn’t lose the friends to death or drugs or anything less common then everyday issues that people face when dealing with the expectations and hopes of others. Because when those hopes don’t align, they seem to repel each other like negatively charged magnets. And I lost my apartment because of money issues, which is a nice way of saying I didn’t have any.

These things may seem small or trivial in the grand scheme of things. Whenever people talk about a big event in modern history they always ask what were you doing? “What where you doing when the towers fell?” “What were you doing during the 2004 elections?” You never answer: “I was watching TV or I was reading the news.” You say, “I was washing a dish, or I was calling Movie Phone,” because these are the small human things that led up to the big event.

I was in a hotel in Denver when the States started closing their polls; I was on my way to a Rock the Vote event at the Hard Rock Café in downtown Denver. As I tried on jeans and answered text messages between brushing my teeth, I watched America changing before my eyes—state by state.

Let’s jump back to San Francisco at the beginning of this whole process for me. I applied to be a special Rock the Trail reporter – even though I knew I was not going to get it – almost as sure as the sky is blue. Not because I didn’t think I was good enough, just because I never win or get anything, frankly.

After the interview and the field of candidates was being narrowed down, I got the call that I got in! Needless to say, I was ecstatic! This is what I had been dreaming about: An opportunity to show the world my stuff! And get a chance to follow the most historic election of my generation. My God, it felt good to win something like that based off my work. With in a week of that phone call, I was on a plane to Washington to meet the RTV staff.

Cut back to Denver: Democratic National Convention—Donny Lumpkins—the new hot shot reporter in town, or at least in his mind. Complete with so many gadgets that would make Inspector Gadget and James Bond jealous. The energy in the air was unlike anything I have ever felt. We were restlessly strapped into a rocket heading straight for the Milky Way and we could barely stand the waiting. There were no whispers in Denver over that week; everything was said proudly with fists clenched and tongues wagging. I also had the great pleasure to help host a Rock the Vote event and see a seemingly endless number of celebrities.

On the last night, the night when Obama accepted the nomination I did my best to keep my journalist hat on and not get wrapped up in the moment, but I must admit—when The Wave rushed around the stadium I threw my hands in the air and went ‘Wooooooooo!’ like the rest of the folks in the crowd. By then end of that night, the cynicism about Obama’s rise to popularity was lost in me, and I’m sure a number of other people, too.

Then there was St Paul.: From the second I got off of the plane, a face full of intense heat greeted me. A Ron Paul supporter, a nice middle-aged woman, offered me a ride into town, as long as I let her tell me about the wonder that was the Ron Paul revolution. It was hard for me to discern what she told me was true or exaggerated: Delegates not being able to vote, tornados, Martial Law, hurricanes and conspiracies. Ether way, she was sure what she was saying was true. Downtown Saint Paul was a fortress. I half expected to see fire-breathing dragons swooping down over the head of the thousands of riot gear outfitted cops. The authorities turned the Minnesota town into a cage to keep people in and out. The resounding sentiment from the collective force was: YOU ARE NOT WELCOME. I quickly got myself accustomed to the maze downtown. You had too walk up two blocks and over eight blocks just to get a cross a street totally blocked off my cops and barricaded. On the night Sarah Palin spoke I stood outside to the Excel Center and watched a star be born.

Now back to Denver at the Hard Rock Café. Eyes fixed on the TV screen—more and more states are being called. A man runs in the room screaming “NEW WORLD ORDER!” and quickly empties his glass of beer. The waiting was over; all systems were going, the thrusters blazed on, propelling America into the stratosphere. On the streets of Denver that night hundreds of people crowded the streets, chanting, smiling and hugging. It was as if each one of them had been vindicated of something that had suddenly dawned on them.

So, in the coming months, and years, I will remember this campaign season for its ups and downs, both personal and professional. No one knows what will happen next and I guess that’s just how history goes.

But one thing can be for certain, we as Americans; me as a young man; will continue to hope for better, and strive for the dreams and the hope of having a better life for ourselves and the people we love.
—Donny Lumpkins