Fernandez left Cuba when she was eight years old in 1962, and her entire family—including her two grown daughters—are steadfast supporters of the GOP.

“The Republican Party is the only one that’s for freedom,” she says.

Clemens, by contrast, is a recent convert to the conservative cause. “I was uncommitted before college,” the Lowell House resident says from the backseat of Fernandez’s Lumina. “I first started getting active in the Republican Club as a result of Ec 10 with Marty,” Clemens says—using an affectionate nickname for Baker Professor of Economics Martin S. Feldstein ’61, a former top Reagan adviser. Clemens says that as he progresses farther in the economics concentration, he has become more committed to the Republican Party’s market-oriented policies.

After a slow start, Clemens works his way into a canvassing groove. “Keep up the good work,” a mustachioed man in a baseball cap shouts above the roar of his lawn mower when he catches glimpse of Clemens’ pro-Bush literature. And Clemens scores—in his words—“a warm, motherly hug” from a middle-aged Republican woman. “I love this neighborhood, and it loves us back,” Clemens says.

But his hot streak turns sour when a Kerry supporter unloading her toddler from the backseat of a minivan shakes her hand in Clemens’ face and yells, “Boo, boo, go away.” So Clemens cheers up when he encounters a Bush supporter hosting a yard sale at the next stop on the route. Clemens swaps a Republican party flier and $1.50 for a space heater and two t-shirts.

After lunch, the canvassers move to a less well-to-do section of town—with multifamily dwellings replacing the sprawling McMansions of the morning route.

At the corner of Freedom and Independence Streets, Clemens is confident he will find fellow Bush supporters.

“Freedom and Independence—they have to be Republicans. Liberals don’t like those things,” Clemens quips.

Leverett House linguistics concentrator Meghan E. Grizzle ’07, an avowed anti-abortion activist, finds inspiration from every fellow Republican she meets on the trail.

“When I knock on someone’s door and they’re pro-Bush, I feel like we have a special connection. It’s a warm and fuzzy thing,” she says.

But by late afternoon, Thayer Hall resident Michael R. Miltenberger ’08 declares that “campaign fatigue has set in.”

Miltenberger’s enthusiasm for Bush is unbridled. “His moral judgments are in line with mine,” says Miltenberger. “His heart is in the right place.”

Miltenberger hails from Palm Beach County, Fla., ground zero in the 2000 recount battle. While his fellow Floridians were ceaselessly mocked four years ago for being befuddled by butterfly ballots and leaving their chads dimpled, Miltenberger sports vast political knowledge. With carefully coiffed hair and a turned-up collar, he confidently looks homeowners in the eye to ask: “Can the president count on your support next Tuesday?”

But one steely response leaves Miltenberger baffled.

“She had a ‘God Bless the USA sticker’ and she wasn’t supporting the president? That I just don’t understand,” Miltenberger sighs.