The emotion on the floor of Mile High Stadium was like a tidal wave. When the Black Eyed Peas took the stage for a live version of Obama's "Yes We Can" speech set to music, including the great line "There is nothing false about hope,' followed by the recorded voice of MLK giving his "I Have a Dream" speech, I looked around to see two African American women in the Wisconsin delegation in tears. "Our country should be proud of itself today. That's all I have to say," said Paulette Dorsey of Milwaukee. Hope was more than a campaign slogan, as delegates hugged and celebrated.

In the Louisiana delegation, Elsie Burkhalter, a superdelegate from Slidell, who had just moved out of a FEMA trailer two weeks before the convention was so hopeful and optimistic, despite losing everything, it was moving. Even as we spoke, another storm was closing in. "My community--I don't know how we could withstand another storm," she said. "There are so many people left in FEMA trailers." Bukhalter was disgusted by the Bush Administration's mishandling of Katrina, yet somehow feeling positive about the future anyway.

As a history and government teacher, she said that after Katrina, "the first thing I thought was someone needs to give George Bush a history lesson on the Berlin Airlift. They could have gotten food and water to people." "And they called us refugees! We're not refugees. We're evacuees. We give our sweat and blood to build these communities where we live. When they called us refugees, that was an insult."

But the Obama campaign has lifted her up. "His campaign inspires me and many of the young people I taught who are now adults." More than that, she is inspired by the tremendous youth energy she sees in both the campaign and in the rebuilding effort after Katrina. Burkhalter is the chair of the University of Louisiana system. "My students in eight universities volunteered in the rebuilding of the 9th Ward. They are out there and they are involved. They felt this urgent need to do community service." ""They did everything they could. Students and young people came from across the country to nail and paint and hang sheetrock." Obama, she says, has tapped into that same positive energy. "Young people will decide the election," said Burkhalter. "I think it's going to be a surprise to the nation how young people are going to unite. They're out there for Barack. I'm proud of them. They're our leaders. They're leading us."

As we finished talking Sheryl Crow was singing "I Can See Clearly Now," and the delegates' energy was tremendous. The lack of cynicism, and the feeling of possibility were contagious. Even the anchors up in the CBS sound stages were dancing, When Stevie Wonder came out and played "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" the Ohio delegation came to life. A cheer went up as the oldest member of the delegation, 85-year-old Ruby Gilliam started dancing in the aisle. "What are you thinking right now?" I asked her. "I'm thinking what a great time we're having and what a great time we're going to have," she replied, beaming. "This is my seventh convention and this is the greatest one. History is being made."

Gilliam, the county chair of Carroll County in Ohio, was a HIllary delegate. "But I'm with Barack all the way," she said. As hard as life can be for many Americans, and even many of the delegates here, having a big party, an outpouring of emotion and a celebration of hope, seemed like a great idea. Still, after the uplift of the 2004 convention, where Obama and Edwards gave their great, hopeful speeches and the Democrats went on to lose the election, one hesitates to give way to emotion.

There were a few skeptics on the floor. Al Gore came out to a thunderous ovation and gave what I thought was a very good speech. But when he got to the part where he was comparing Obama to Abraham Lincoln--"known chiefly as a clear thinker and a great orator with a passion for justice," a young, African-American Georgia delegate sitting next to me groaned. "Oh, come on," she said. "He always talks too long! One bad election and he goes on and on--blah, blah, blah." I was surprised, since I thought he was making a winning point.

The delegate, it turned out, was demographer Bernita Smith, who worked on voter targeting for the Hillary campaign. She like Hillary, she said, because of all the candidates who came to the DNC's winter meeting in 2007, she was by far the smartest in the room. "I look at it like, are we reaching the right groups we need to reach to win, and how do we get to that?" she said. She rode out to the convention all the way from Atlanta with a group of other Hillary delegates in an RV they called "the unity express." The youth vote will probably be large for Obama, she said. But 'we have to swing back and get all those older people to embrace the campaign." "We need to win. Right now we don't have time to be in a cult of personality. It's about the hard work. It's about stating our position and getting to people we haven't reached yet." Most of all, Obama's task is to convert the white, working class voters who didn't chose him in the primary.

I sat next to one such voter--a HIllary delegate from the industrial Miidwest, William Cobb, a machinist from Kenosha, Wisconsin. Cobb's story, which he told reluctantly, because, he explained, "I'm of a generation where you don't like to talk about these things," was the hard luck story the Democrats highlighted throughout the convention. "For 25 years I had a good paying factory job with all the benefits," he said. "in 2004, days after the election, my job was eliminated. At that time I'm 60 years old. Nobody is going to hire a 60-year-old at a good paying job." Cobb had been delivering pizzas a few hours a week for some extra money. After he was laid off, he had to ask for more hours at Pizza Hut. "That plus my Social Security pays the bills," he said. Fortunately his house was paid off. Cobb was for Hillary, who he felt was a real fighter and could win. During Obama's speech he listened intently and softly concurred "Uh huh," "mmhm" "yes." When Obama said that the "ownership society" the Republicans like to talk about really means "You're on your own," and then detailed how people are left on their own without health insurance, good jobs, and help pulling themselves up by their bootstraps, Cobb said, "That's me!"

The job Obama has in front of him is daunting. How does he convince a historically racist society, and one riven by economic insecurity, to elect him?

On the closing night of the convention he did exactly what the critics said he needed to do: laying out a specific platform that appeals to working class voters, and taking a few hard swipes at McCain along the way. He paused over McCain adviser Phil Graham's comments about a "mental recession," and, especially, "a nation of whiners." "Tell that to the Michigan plant autoworkers . . . Tell it to the military families who watch their loved ones leave for a third, fourth, fifth tour. . . . These aren't whiners. They work hard and keep going, without complaint." He connected his humble family background, the themes of hard work and middle class struggle, and the incompetent and unjust Republican program very effectively. There was a lot of red meat and a few specific proposals to chew on. He hit back on the Republican attacks. "I've got news for you John McCain. We all put our country first." He took an important step. "I think he nailed everything," said Cobb afterwards, as the country western music was playing. That's what he needs to do.