The Morning After

Yesterday I had one of the best days of my life. I worked at the election precinct a few miles from my home. It was my first time working at the polls, and I was looking forward to it. There were four of us who met at 5:45 am at an elementary school a few miles from my home. We set up outside the library, in a small area of the auditorium.

The principal of the school stopped by when she arrived at work, and made us feel welcome by showing us the location of the rest rooms and the break room. She told us to feel free to use the fridge and the microwave, and help ourselves to the coffee.

Classes of kids came by with their teachers, who patiently explained the process. Some of them would vote in their classes. Throughout the school day, the occasional stray kid, maybe on his way to the restroom, would curiously look as he walked by.

It was an efficient process, and I like efficiency. The four us of were comprised of two retired men, both of them Vietnam War veterans, myself and a 17-year-old high school student. She isn't old enough to vote, but old enough to work at the polls. The men were both interesting people. One of them worked the polls for the first time during one of the Reagan elections. Of course, we didn't talk politics or anything partisan because we were simply there to facilitate the voting process. But when you spend 15 hours with total strangers, of course you talk and get to know each other. The young woman was well spoken and composed, and I was happy that both men treated her like the adult that she is. We had some good conversation, some serious and of course just the kidding around and joking that goes along with working side by side with people.

We had potentially 115 voters who would walk in that day, and by the time we got into our cars at 8;30 that night, we had a turnout of 100. That is a pretty healthy percentage. Fifty-five percent of voters in my county are mail ballot voters. It was good to see that people care. It was good to see that no matter our differing opinions, we all take part in a process that means each vote counts equally.

Often throughout the day, voters would thank us for being there, for donating our time. That was nice to hear. I mostly smiled when they said that and said, "My pleasure." And it was. Oh, there was a time around 2:00 where I thought I would collapse, but somehow I caught a second wind and was soon perky again.

We had a small flag in our box of supplies that we hung on a bulletin board. When we were packing up, I took the flag down and got it ready to put back in its envelope. I folded it and thought about what it means to be an American. I thought about my older son, who spent eight years serving his country, and came back safe and sound. It thought about all the mothers who weren't so lucky, whose sons and daughters paid the ultimate price so that I could sit in an elementary school auditorium and be a part of this amazing democratic process. I thought about how we should choose to fix our problems, not with vicious words and guns, but peaceably at the ballot box. I thought that this is who we are at our very best.

We had no long lines. We had no glitches. Not one voter was made to feel uncomfortable. It all went seamlessly and smoothly, as it should. I was glad to hear the President say in his speech last night that the long lines were something that would be fixed. We should be making it easy for people to vote, not difficult. I hope I did that yesterday.

My county is always looking for people to work the polls. Maybe there is a shortage of folks in your area to do that as well. Maybe you will think about doing it some time. Maybe you could have one of the best days of your life, too.

Susan