On Super Tuesday, 30-year-old Bernadette Vitola had a small victory at the polls. Proudly, she inserted the punch next to the name of her candidate of choice: Howard Dean.

For Vitola, this was one last bit of activism for the campaign.

"It was a way for me to show my support of a candidate and a political career I firmly believe in," says the downtown resident.

Vitola wasn't the only one punching chads for the former Vermont governor Tuesday. His home-state voters handed him his only primary win of the season. And 30,186 Ohio voters still favored him, unofficial results show.

Wes Flinn of Clifton also cast a vote that way, "because I wanted to have at least one Presidential vote in my life of which I was completely proud," he says.

It's almost like somebody didn't send these people the memo: Dean dropped out of the race Feb. 18.

But while it should be crazy - the continuing support of a candidate no longer seeking a nomination - this Dean movement is one of the most inspirational, invigorating things to hit the modern political arena.

They still meet regularly, these Deaniacs. Across the country, Dean supporters gather the first Wednesday of each month. Locally, the venue is the Clifton Condo Clubhouse.

True, some have jumped ship - but only a surprising few. The Cincinnati for Dean online Yahoo group lost just five people out of more than 200. Statewide, 15 decided to leave the 1,500-strong Ohio for Dean Internet group.

It's a haphazard mix of people, business owners to college kids, from many races and economic backgrounds. And they still suffer a range of emotions.

"I'd be lying if I said some people weren't upset," says Bill Bridges, chair of the Ohio for Dean steering campaign. "You don't take that kind of passion and get dealt a severe blow without having trouble with it."

There's a lot of anger, the majority of it directed toward the Democratic Party for mishandling the candidate.

"They silenced the voice of Howard Dean and replaced that with two candidates who voted for the Patriot Act and voted for the war," says Barbara Chin, 44, of downtown. "I felt betrayed."

But the grass-roots network remains connected for a common cause - to carry on Dean's vision, even if Dean himself never sees the inside of the Oval Office.

The people who have made this commitment to Dean believe a leader is all about plain talk and political courage. They have rallied around his ideas - his support of equal rights for homosexuals, his stance on Iraq, his health care plan.

"When I see the future, I see Howard Dean," Bridges says.

Like him or not, Dean engaged a whole demographic of people who were never involved in politics before. He moved people like Chin, who has spent the past year working for national and regional campaigns.

"He was the voice of this movement. He was the catalyst," she says. "My vote was a way of saying, 'Let's not forget where this came from.'"

Dean brought politics back to its rightful place - the people.

"A lot of times, I felt like my vote didn't matter," says downtown resident Suzanne Poag, who cast a ballot for Dean. "This time, I haven't been irresponsible with it. This vote matters."

On Super Tuesday, Dean proved how much he changed the landscape of voters. And he wasn't even in the race at all.

E-mail mdowns@enquirer.com