Muslims For Kucinich

Pit bulls, Rottweilers and the fiercest Chihuahuas you'll ever meet couldn't deter two intrepid volunteers.

The exuberant Coloradoans were determined to knock on doors in the North Valley, sharing the message of North Carolina Sen. John Edwards with registered Democrats highlighted on their vast campaign spreadsheets.

"I was chased by five dogs last week in Iowa, but they're nothing compared to the pit bull that followed me around Albuquerque today," said Teddy Kott, 24, who, with 20-year-old Shawn Scanlon, spent Sunday hitting houses near Rio Grande Boulevard and I-40.

"One neighbor finally told me: `Yeah, you better watch out for that one. Pick up a big rock, and he should leave you alone.'"

Kott survived the encounter.

He and Scanlon are among hundreds of avid volunteers for six candidates working in Albuquerque toward Tuesday's caucus, each of them fueled by an unrelenting passion for the man they dream of seeing in the White House.

While the campaigns run on vastly different budgets, all rely on volunteers. The eclectic group goes beyond the trendy soccer moms and NASCAR dads to include anyone willing to pump endless time and boundless energy into the campaigns.

Cynthia McCrory changed her life for retired Gen. Wesley Clark.

The Albuquerque artist closed her studio for three months to shoulder duties at Clark's headquarters on Candelaria Road and Stanford Drive Northeast 12 hours a day, seven days a week.

She set up tables in the storefront with concrete floors painted dark brown. She taped up maps and updated volunteer lists. She ran basic office operations so full-time staff members could devote their attention to planning the campaign's strategy.

Why? Because she wept the first time she heard Clark speak on C-SPAN and immediately dedicated herself to getting him elected.

"When he said this is a country of opinions, debate and dissent, tears sprang to my eyes and just wouldn't stop," McCrory said, choking up as she recalled the day in November when someone she had never met ignited her passion for politics.

"I hadn't volunteered since Jimmy Carter was running for president, but I knew that this man is the one who would change this world. We need him, now more than ever."

McCrory hosted a house party for Clark on Jan. 23, sharing her views with friends and neighbors.

Her husband, a registered Republican, was notably absent.

"He has been very generous about all this and went to the movies while we talked about the campaign," McCrory said, chuckling. "I know he's glad the caucus is almost over."

The nation's response to the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks shaped the views of campaign volunteers. The crash of two towers significantly shifted American foreign policy in ways these workers thought were unimaginable.

Astrid Webster, a 57-year-old Albuquerque resident and German native, is convinced the nation is in the throes of post traumatic stress disorder.

"I felt so depressed about it all and was beginning to think our future was hopeless until I read Dennis Kucinich's `Prayer for America' speech," Webster said during a campaign rally at the Peace and Justice Center in southwest Albuquerque.

"He said what no one wants to hear - that there are no easy answers but together we can heal. We have to be honest about the damage that has been done and work together to find solutions."

His words inspired Webster to volunteer dozens of hours for a candidate who statistically has little chance of earning the Democratic Party's nomination.

She knocks on doors and often endures taunts from people who tell her to pick a real candidate. Webster digs in, determined to speak with anyone who will listen.

Only once before has she volunteered for a campaign - state Sen. Richard Romero's race against U.S. Rep. Heather Wilson, an Albuquerque Republican.

That time, it was for the party. This time, it's personal.

She feels immensely proud of the man she is representing, saying his integrity and determination renewed her faith in the country's political system.

"I know that if everyone could just hear Dennis Kucinich speak, they would vote for him," she said. "Honestly, he probably won't win the nomination. But at least I did something. At least I wasn't responsible for electing someone I didn't believed deserved my vote."

Vietnam veteran John McWalters shares the same unwavering passion for Massachusetts Sen. John F. Kerry.

"I have a friend who was in Officer Candidates School with me back in 1968 who called me and said John Kerry was the man to support," McWalters said. "I trusted him and volunteered right away. I have not heard anything in four months that has changed my mind."

McWalters, a 58-year-old Michigan native who has lived in New Mexico since the early 1970s, bears the scars of his service in Vietnam.

He worked through the ranks of the 25th Infantry Division, twice suffering injuries in the line of duty before becoming an officer. During his three-year tour, he contended with life in the line of fire, identified victims and worked with injured soldiers.

"I've talked with John Kerry twice, and both times he struck me as a man who truly understood my struggle and the sacrifices made by all veterans," McWalters said of his fellow Vietnam War veteran.

Demons from the war that haunted McWalters long after he left Southeast Asia eventually drove him to New Mexico, little more than a dusty town on a map where the former Army officer thought he could hide.

"Talking with veterans about John Kerry's campaign actually has helped me deal with a lot of what I saw during the war," he said. "It's turned out to be a very cathartic experience."

A similar, quiet travail drove Bill Gilmartin to work for former Vermont Gov. Howard Dean's campaign.

The software developer with a bachelor's degree in mathematics spent much of the past three years searching for work on the East Coast. He traveled to New Mexico and recently landed a long-awaited job at Sandia National Laboratories in Albuquerque.

"It was terrible being out of work, and it gave me a lot time to think about why it was so hard to find a job," he said after going door-to-door in several Albuquerque neighborhoods Jan. 24 sharing Dean's views.

"I started reading about Howard Dean and realized I identified with almost every position he took, including his economic views that I believe would help pull this country out of a nose dive."

Gilmartin began visiting Dean's West Side office that, like the other five campaigns in town, runs on optimism, fast food and coffee.

The sacrifices of volunteering are easier to swallow for New Mexico volunteers, thanks to an early caucus. And it is the sense that every phone call, every knock on a door could make a difference.

Ron Crowder, a 37-year-old Albuquerque resident who produces TV and radio ads, thought he could make history.

He jumped aboard Connecticut Sen. Joe Lieberman's bandwagon early, backing a man he believes has the centrist values needed to beat an incumbent.

"People are so upset that they want to go in the exact opposite direction of President Bush, but I'm afraid they're going to find themselves picking a man who can't be elected, who can't win," Crowder said.

"I believe in Joe and know he has the best chance to win."

Working in the evenings, Crowder knocks on doors, makes phone calls and helps organize rallies. It is his first time working for a campaign, and he is moved daily by the experience.

"It's been incredible and a pleasant surprise to call people and realize that they are passionate and willing to talk about politics," he said. "It's given me renewed faith in democracy. That might sound too broad, but it's true. I have renewed faith in my neighbors and in my country."

As snow and darkness fell on Albuquerque on Sunday, the two die-hard Colorado volunteers were determined to find every Democrat on their list.

Kott, who already battled with several dogs, turned his 1987 Volvo station wagon down narrow alleys where houses are numbered out of order. Scanlon, his equally persistent passenger, eagerly hopped out of the car armed with Edwards campaign material.

"No matter what anyone says, it's still not as cold or as spread out as Iowa," Kott said of the days he spent campaigning in the Midwest. "It's a much better place to knock on doors, although I must say I've never seen more `Beware of Dog' signs in all my life."

The duo, touched by Edwards' charisma and road map for their future, put their lives on hold to campaign in New Mexico.

"I heard one of his speeches on C-SPAN and knew I had to work for him," Scanlon said. "I love Colorado and never left the state before, but I believe in John Edwards so much that I would travel anywhere for him."