BOSTON—They came by the thousands from across the country, filing into the FleetCenter for three straight days and nights to participate in the formal nomination of a presidential candidate, hear the best rhetoric an opposition party had to offer or gawk at Beltway celebs. Often, it seemed just being in the corridors abutting the floor of the Democratic National Convention (DNC) was enough. Certainly, it was enough to spur a healthy trade in the many-colored stiff paper passes which granted varying levels of convention access to their bearers.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday had their share of distinguished speakers and high-profile attendees, to be sure. But the main event was last night, when everyone who was anyone would flock to the convention to see newly nominated Sen. John F. Kerry, D-Mass., make his first appearance of the week.

Or so they thought. In fact, as the FleetCenter filled to capacity, Boston’s fire marshal ordered its doors shut last night more than an hour before Kerry took the stage. Delegates, special guests and reporters were barred from the DNC by police officers; and though a few VIPs talked their way in to catch for the nominee’s speech, the vast majority were forced to depart and watch Kerry from a local watering hole—or, for a lucky few gathered by one of the Center’s entrances, to witness an impromptu rendition of the candidate’s remarks by a foul-mouthed canine puppet.

‘BULLSHIT’

At 9 p.m., the streets outside the FleetCenter were a bedlam, exiled pols mingling with the protesters who hadn’t made it into the free speech zones.

“No, I have the VIP pass and I can’t get in at all!” one well-dressed man indignantly spoke into a cellphone headset.

Although those bearing passes marked “Press” were allowed within the security barrier surrounding the convention center—a privilege not granted many with passes reading “Honored Guest,” “Special Guest” or even “Delegate”—by a few minutes after 9 p.m. it became clear that none were getting inside the FleetCenter itself.

One Wisconsin delegate, riding the T dejectedly after being turned away from the convention at 7:45 p.m., said she felt her contributions to the party’s work had been unappreciated.

“I’m a little pissed off,” said the delegate, who said she had been admitted to the convention for its first three days. “No, I’m totally pissed off actually. I worked my ass off to be a delegate, and now they won’t let me in to see John Kerry.”

“It’s bullshit,” she added.

University President Lawrence H. Summers, meanwhile, was luckier.

Initially confined to the first floor of the FleetCenter along with many others—in the same building as the convention, but floors away from the action—Summers was observed standing by the escalators around 8:15 p.m. for about 10 minutes before security changed its tune, admitting him and a small entourage while continuing to bar all others.

PUPPET REGIME?

As a group of 30 to 40 journalists and other guests gathered just a closed door away from the scene of Summers’ admittance, on the asphalt surrounding the FleetCenter itself, the mood was one of frustration.

Those who tried to sweet-talk the police officers guarding the doors were met with flat refusals and allusions to the fire marshal’s pronouncement. The doors opened more than once, but only to let ejected convention-goers out, not to let anyone new in. One staffer could be heard lamenting that her belongings had been left upstairs at the convention.