Throwing a convention is a massive undertaking -- requiring coordinated efforts -- and one Bay area woman plays a pivotal role.

Four years ago, Tampa's Deborah Cox-Roush was the volunteer coordinator for the last Republican National Convention in her hometown. This year, she received an even bigger invite.

"I packed my bags, left my dog, my husband and I came to Cleveland," she said. "But, what a beautiful city. They've been so welcoming."

Her husband was supportive, but probing.

"He said, 'Do you know how cold it is in Cleveland?" she said with a laugh.

That was five and half months ago, and this week has been filled with sunshine and a lot of work for Rousch: 15-hour days, wrangling 1,200 volunteers.

"We have everything from way finders, greeters, credential checks, transportation," she said. "They're the first impression and the last impression."

Deborah Cox-Roush manages more than 1,000 volunteers - everything from way finders, greeters, credential checks, to transportation. (Julie Gargotta, Staff)

 

Long Days

On the street by Freedom Plaza, a makeshift marketplace and event space flanking the Quicken Loans arena, Rousch speaks into a walkie-talkie. She wears a red dress, pearls, and in a sea of bright-shirted volunteers, sticks out.

"I’m already having a great day. I get to see all you guys!” she chirps, as she approaches a group in blue polos. They cheer, filing into the arena for their days' assignments.

Rousch said roughly 60 percent of volunteers come from out of state, paying their own way to put in the hours in Cleveland. Many of those volunteers, she noted, are repeats from the last convention.

"From the out in, these volunteers make this convention happen," she said. "It takes all of us working together. We had four-and-a-half, five weeks instead of the usual six to eight weeks, because of the Cavs (NBA title) wonderful win. It's been crunch, but a great time."

A golf cart pulls up in the crowded shutdown street. On it, three men -- one of whom is Roush's father.

"See? This is how bad it gets. I have to bring my father to Cleveland to say hello," she says, hugging her dad in the passenger seat.
 
Roush said it's bittersweet to prepare for months for one week of excitement, but it's worth the work.

"I just believe in what we’re doing," she said. "I want it to be the best show ever, but I also want to make it great for Cleveland.”