SALEM, N.H.—Blyss C. Cleveland ’08, her face glum, stares out at the dreary landscape of political ground zero.

“I imagined this is what hell looks like, not New Hampshire,” she remarks casually.

For college students whose weekend morning plans usually include a warm bed and a hangover, she may not be so far off. Last Saturday, over 60 students—organized by the Harvard College Democrats and advocacy group America Coming Together (ACT)—sacrificed a lazy Cambridge afternoon for a day of canvassing in their politically divided neighbor to the north, one of the most highly contested swing states in this year’s presidential election.

Knocking on doors, distributing pamphlets and chatting up Granite Staters of all stripes, the students endure a cramped van ride and overcast weather to drum up support and turnout for their candidate of choice, Democratic nominee John F. Kerry.

Salem is Saturday’s stop for 13 Harvard students. According to an ACT organizer, the town voted Republican in 2000 by two votes. For the volunteers, the figure underscores the significance of their task.

“You know you’re doing something that could decide the election. It could definitely come down to us,” says Christopher J. Crisman-Cox ’08, who had never campaigned before this fall. “There are plenty of free weekends after Nov. 2. Until then you only have so much time, you have to make the most of it.”

SCARING UP VOTES

Autumn is in full swing, and for New Hampshire that means pumpkins and politics: jack-o-lanterns and cardboard ghosts pop up on leaf-covered lawns alongside massive campaign banners and American flags.

This area of Salem is a neighborhood where trailers and decaying colonials line the same streets as well-landscaped, fenced-in homes. There’s a strange dichotomy of small houses and big cars: a truck is squeezed onto nearly every driveway, and the few sedans in sight are large, American-made models.

For Cleveland and Crisman-Cox, this is old hat. The freshmen, neighbors in Apley Court and canvassing partners on the campaign trail, have been making the weekly trek to the Granite State every week since early September. They’ve even developed a Laurel and Hardy-esque rapport, a good-natured routine of sassy Southerner and proper Pennsylvanian.

“That door’s not going to knock on itself,” Cleveland snaps at her partner, who stands idle on a house’s front steps.

“It’s already been rung!” Crisman-Cox protests. “I’m not just standing here.”

Cleveland, shivering in her crimson hoodie and jeans, shoots him a look, but she’s smiling. An army brat most recently of Waynesville, Mo., Cleveland says her father’s position in the military isn’t the most important factor for her politically.

“A lot of people say, ‘Oh my gosh Blyss, you’re a Democrat and your dad’s in the military, don’t you know Republicans throw money at defense?’” Cleveland says. “I’m like, ‘Oh my god, I’m a Democrat because I was raised right.’”

Cleveland says she worries about her father being sent to Iraq, fearing that he will die in a conflict that she deems “useless.”