MIAMI
THE VICTORIOUS President Bush said, "We have one country, one Constitution, and one future that binds us." In his concession call to Bush, John Kerry said they discussed "the danger of division in our country and the need, the desperate need for unity."
That made Caesar Moya and Lucy Brito all the more prescient. On Monday, they stood in a four-hour line, on the final day of early voting at the Miami-Dade County election headquarters. Moya and Brito wore buttons and stickers on their shirts for both the Bush-Cheney and Kerry-Edwards tickets. No one else among the approximately 1,000 people standing in line appeared to have done such a thing.
Moya, a 33-year-old information systems supervisor and Brito, a 28-year-old adult education teacher and a massage therapist, knew who they were going to vote for, though they would not say. They said they wore buttons from both sides as their plea for unity.
"People have been so extreme on both the right and the left, I feel like we're losing sight of the fact that we still have to listen to both sides if democracy is going to work," Moya said. "I know it might sound sappy, but both sides have spent so much time trying to put labels on each other that I was looking for a way to say we're not labels, we're all still Americans."
Brito, Moya's niece, said, "It's fine to vote for what you believe is right, but I know people who stop talking to you the moment they know you disagree with them on politics. That's not the way we should be going."
The little statement by Brito and Moya was part of a grand proclamation by the nearly 60 percent of Americans who went to the polls. In Florida, where the ridiculed 2000 recount spurred voters to a reported record turnout, the long line was a charged current of quiet commitment. Strangers talked glibly with each other. Complaints were amazingly few. The long line became a badge of honor.
"It's about time," said Frank Menditto, 88, a retired supermarket and food concessions manager. "People have been lax over the years."
"The fact that we're allowed to stand in line at all is what matters to me," said Alex Auais, a 35-year-old physician. "Two hours, three hours, whatever it takes, is nothing compared to Cuba, where your vote means nothing."
"People were killed for my right to vote," said Guilienne Audelin, 26, a student majoring in finance at Florida International University. "In Haiti, people are still dying. Besides, immigration's worse. I remember helping a relative camp out at 3 or 4 in the morning. We got out at 2."
Burned out from the bitter campaign, respectful debates were heard up and down the line between Bush and Kerry supporters. Tony MacKenzie, 38, a security official and a veteran of the Gulf War, debated his support for Bush's war policies with Lativa Curry, a respiratory therapist who was concerned about growing poverty and loss of jobs.
Susan Alvarez, a 43-year-old software saleswoman, talked about how much she liked Bush as a person with two pro-Kerry co-workers, Mirtha Diaz, 48, and Kim Chapman, 37. Pedro Delgado and Michael Byrd are both 44-year-old engineers for a medical device company. Delgado was voting for Bush, Byrd for Kerry. Byrd joked that the line was as bad as for the Dumbo ride at Disney World. Delgado laughed that at least it beat seven-hour voting lines in Venezuela. Two hours later, Byrd said, "I changed my mind, it's worse than Dumbo."
They could laugh because they knew they were part of something big. "It doesn't matter whether we stand here for five minutes or three hours," said Thomas Fonte, a 45-year-old civil engineer. "The fact that people of different sides can stand next to each other without bloodshed, there's a lot of countries that cannot say that."
Kimberly Morrison, 28, a project coordinator for a children's ministry, said the line meant to her that "we want to prove we are the state that can get it right."
Terri Wedge, 30, a hotel manager, said that no one should have expected short lines, given the desire of people to vote after what happened in 2000. "In an instant gratification society, you eat fast food, but then you're hungry again pretty fast," Wedge said. "To me this long line is not a problem. This is not an instant gratification election. No matter who wins, we're not going to get satisfaction right away for all the problems we're voting about. Neither candidate is Superman. I'm just excited to be here because I'm proving I've got something to say."
The candidates may not have been Superman, but Wedge was one of the women and men of steel. Out of bitterness, they made democracy in this country leap more than a single bound.
Derrick Z. Jackson's e-mail address is jackson@globe.com ![]()