The Nation: How the Young Saw It

In demeanor, resiliency and imagination, the number of young delegates at the Democratic National Convention brought freshness to the old political process. For four young Democratic delegates attending their first convention, the experience was an adventure into the unknown. Their reactions:

SALLY PEIL, 22, Georgia, a senior math major at West Georgia College in Carrollton, Ga., first thought of running for delegate last February when a history professor suggested it to her and sev eral other students. "We thought heaven's sake, that can't be possible That's strictly for the old people was elected largely with student votes. She all but the swooned when she first entered the convention hall: "Everything was so high, so big. I was lost. There were people everywhere. It was so exciting. If you could breathe in the atmosphere, I was doing it. My hands were shaking. I got so confused, I tried to write with my cigarette and smoke my pen." When the colors were presented, "waves of patriotism swept over me. I hadn't sung The Star-Spangled Banner since grammar school. It felt real good. I actually got chills."

After days of caucusing in stuffy rooms and long nights in the convention hall, she came to realize that democracy in action is not all chills and thrills. "At first I felt strange. I thought, 'Everyone knows what's going on and I don't.' Then I started to listen to the speakers, but when I looked around not another soul was listening." A McGovern sup porter, she says of the vote that ousted the Illinois delegation headed by Chicago Mayor Richard Daley: "I couldn't understand why anyone would vote for Daley. But someone explained to me that there's a lot of party structure left.

I didn't know that." She also discovered that Georgia's old guard was more flex ible than she had thought. "At first they were skeptical about the young dele gates. They thought we were in it for a lark. Now they take us more seriously. There's been a change."

TED PILLOW, 20, Iowa, vividly recalls the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. He was one of the protesters outside the hall, taunting police, throwing rocks, breaking windows and fleeing down side streets. Last week in Miami Beach he was sitting inside the convention hall as a member of the Iowa delegation. He prefers, he says, his 1972 style of political expression: "It's just as much fun, in a conservative way, and the satisfaction lasts longer."

Raised in a black ghetto in Chicago, he is attending Parsons College in Fairfield, Iowa. He worked as a $2.50-an-hour janitor this spring to help pay his way to the convention. On arrival, his visions of "big lights, luxurious seats, girls all over that you could pick up, free drinks, big parties up and down the halls of the hotel" were quickly shattered. He found that "the seats are hard, you can't see and I haven't had any time for even a few beers. There hasn't been a single party, just sleep, a state caucus and then over to the convention hall. And I haven't found a single girl to take out since I've been here."