Surrounded by political giants, two no-name Democrats are the real stars

DENVER - For all the focus on the pageantry, the speeches, and the A-list personalities at the Democratic National Convention, the true power center of the party lies with activists such as Brynn Palmer and Amanda Kelley, back in the cheap seats of the Pepsi Center.

Palmer and Kelley, first-time convention-goers from outside St. Louis, are the face of the grassroots army that has propelled Barack Obama to the Democratic nomination he accepts tonight: newcomers to politics who are drawn to his message and feeling their way through a system that once seemed open only to party insiders.

"You don't have to have a political science major, you don't have to be well-connected, you don't have to have lots of money," Palmer said. "You simply have to show up and contribute, and then great things will happen. And we're living proof of that."

Palmer, a white 46-year-old marketing specialist at a major cable provider, is here as a delegate. Kelley, a black 49-year-old lab manager at a nonprofit hospital, is here as a guest of the Missouri delegation. They met a year ago at an organizing session in St. Louis for Obama volunteers. Today they call each other sisters. And they know that with Missouri hanging in the balance in November, Obama's success hinges on their work and that of those like them.

"A year ago," Palmer said, "my actions in politics were: I voted regularly, I tried to watch TV and study. I would more often than not toss my house slipper at the TV if the person I thought was behaving in a reprehensible manner."

Other than volunteering a little for Senator Claire McCaskill in 2006, Kelley said, her participation was limited to voting, sometimes for Democrats, sometimes for Republicans.

Like many Obama fans, Palmer and Kelley were first lured by his keynote speech four years ago at the Democratic National Convention in Boston. After meeting in St. Louis last August, they joined forces, throwing a house party fund-raiser, lobbying friends, family, and neighbors on Obama's behalf, and targeting voters in their neighborhoods and over the phone.

Weren't there times last year when it looked like Obama might not win the nomination?

"Lots of them," Kelley said, recalling the many expletives she heard when calling strangers.

Palmer said, "We were knocking on doors and people were saying, 'Barack who?' "

Then Super Tuesday came on Feb. 5, and Obama, after Missouri had been called for Hillary Clinton, eked out a key primary victory in the wee hours.

"By noon the next day, our e-mails and our phones were just blowing up," Palmer said. "People were like, 'You guys - I didn't believe you guys, but it happened.' "

"We weren't pie-in-the-sky anymore," Kelley added. "We were the real deal."

Since then, they say, they have gradually recruited more and more Obama backers, including Palmer's in-laws, whom she describes as progressive Republicans.

"Our support runs deep there," Palmer said, holding back tears.

All their local activism earned them tickets to Denver.

"I felt I was being invited into an inner circle that we knew nothing - nothing - about," Kelley said.

Palmer and Kelley, though, are not swooning Obama acolytes uncritically supportive of everything he does - his vote last month for a compromise domestic intelligence bill in Congress bothered Kelley, and Palmer objected when he recently signaled an openness to offshore oil drilling. But both say they trust Obama to make the decisions he feels are best.

The participation of Palmer and Kelley in the presidential election has transformed more than the Democratic Party. It has transformed them.

"Other than, I would say, the birth of my children, it's probably been one of the biggest life-altering experiences I have had," Palmer said.

"We're going to be doing this for the rest of our lives now - I really do believe this - because now we see that one person does make a difference," Kelley added.

Scott Helman can be reached at shelman@globe.com.