Workers at Barack Obama's headquarters on Quarrier Street would elect Delores Smith the most popular volunteer.

She feeds them.

The other day, she fed them tons of fried chicken, 10 pounds of potato salad and enough corn bread to feed the proverbial army.

Then she brought lasagna, salad and garlic bread. Last Friday, she brought baked spaghetti and baked macaroni.

They're spoiled enough now to make requests. "A retired principal wanted the baked macaroni," she said. "I try to get them to give me ideas."

She volunteers at headquarters just about every day. Several times a week, she arrives with banquet-sized containers of home-cooked food, a welcome break from potato chips, Fritos and fast-food burgers.

"We love volunteers who bring food," worker Tom Kessler said as he piled baked spaghetti on a paper plate. "This is what keeps us going. There's never time for lunch. Suddenly, it's 8 or 9 at night and you realize you haven't eaten yet."

This isn't Smith's first experience with campaign cooking. In 1960, she fed future President John F. Kennedy.

She worked then for Gene Fredericks, a Democratic Party leader. He accompanied Kennedy on a campaign swing to Cabin Creek, then invited him home for dinner.

Kennedy asked for old-fashioned Southern cooking.

She fed him roast beef, navy beans and her famous cornbread.

She feeds them.

The other day, she fed them tons of fried chicken, 10 pounds of potato salad and enough corn bread to feed the proverbial army.

Then she brought lasagna, salad and garlic bread. Last Friday, she brought baked spaghetti and baked macaroni.

They're spoiled enough now to make requests. "A retired principal wanted the baked macaroni," she said. "I try to get them to give me ideas."

She volunteers at headquarters just about every day. Several times a week, she arrives with banquet-sized containers of home-cooked food, a welcome break from potato chips, Fritos and fast-food burgers.

"We love volunteers who bring food," worker Tom Kessler said as he piled baked spaghetti on a paper plate. "This is what keeps us going. There's never time for lunch. Suddenly, it's 8 or 9 at night and you realize you haven't eaten yet."

This isn't Smith's first experience with campaign cooking. In 1960, she fed future President John F. Kennedy.

She worked then for Gene Fredericks, a Democratic Party leader. He accompanied Kennedy on a campaign swing to Cabin Creek, then invited him home for dinner.

Kennedy asked for old-fashioned Southern cooking.

She fed him roast beef, navy beans and her famous cornbread.

"It was just like meeting your next-door neighbor," she said. "He was very friendly. He wanted to know what I expected him to do as president. I looked up at that face, that handsome red-headed guy, and I was so shaken up, I don't even remember what I told him."

Did she shake his hand? Better than that, she said. "I hugged him just like I did his nephew the other day."

Last Thursday morning, she got a call from Max Kennedy, son of Ethel and Bobby Kennedy, who was campaigning in the area for Obama.

"He thanked me for what I was doing," she said. "Then he came to headquarters. He was making calls. We were working together."

"When he hugged her, I thought she was going to melt," said campaign worker Scott King.

Along with furnishing sustenance to fellow volunteers, Smith makes phone calls and knocks on doors.

She likes Obama's platform. "I like what he wants to do for veterans when they come home from the war. I like that he wants to bring the troops home. I have a niece over there now. And I like what he wants to do with coal as far as making fuel."

Smith knows plenty about coal. She was reared in Paint Creek. Her father spent 52 years in the coal mines.

Her parents instilled in her the importance of voting. "They were always concerned about who would become president and whether they would help the economy. The economy was always on their minds."

Obama's political surge doesn't surprise her one bit. "I knew we'd have an African-American in the White House one day," she said.

To contact staff writer Sandy Wells, use e-mail or call 348-5173.