The networks called the Tar Heel State for the senator from Illinois at 7:33 p.m. local time–a mere three minutes after polls closed. No actual returns necessary–just exit polls showing that about 91 percent of the state’s African American voters had backed Obama, who also benefited from a surge of first-time voters. (They represented 18 percent of the day’s turnout and favored him by a vast 68-26 percent.) The only problem? There were no actual supporters in Reynolds when Tom Brokaw broke the news. While the press corps tapped at their laptops like zombies, a pair of Obama volunteers clapped and cheered (o-BAM-a, o-BAM-a) in the corner. Their cries barely carried from one end of the court to the other. “We were out canvassing all day long, knocking on doors,” said Diana Powell, 44, a Raleigh minister decked out in a white Obama t-shirt and a red Obama cap. “Even the people who WEREN’T registered said they were for Barack.” So you weren’t worried about North Carolina? “No way,” she said. Just then, the first wave of Obamaniacs, who’d been waiting outside for hours, started to trickle in. “Woo!” they shouted. “Woo!” Powell replied. Officially, doors wouldn’t open for another 20 minutes. But it seemed the party was starting a little early.

A possible damper: Indiana. With 34 percent of precincts reporting, Clinton now leads Obama 54 to 37 percent–and the early, easy win in North Carolina means that most of the media huffing and puffing would focus on the Hoosier State instead. Exit polls from Indiana show Clinton winning that crucial constituency–white blue-collar voters–65 to 34. Earlier in the day, Obama visited the Four Seasons Family Restaurant in Greenwood, Indiana to chat with patrons about the economy and gas prices before sitting down to breakfast. But the first man he approached waved him away. “I can’t stand him,’’ the diner told a reporter later. “He’s a Muslim. He’s not even pro-American as far as I’m concerned.’’ Asked whether she was as confident about Indiana as North Carolina, Powell stopped smiling. “That’s the nailbiter,” she said. Nearby, a network correspondent encircled her head with a halo of hairspray. It was time for her close-up.