Election Day was a real rush.

Most of you know I work the polls as an election inspector; that means I help people sign in to vote, make sure they can read the fine print, know that there is a proposition or two on the back of the ballot, and, in this last election, make sure they know they can vote for up to seven different judges. I kept telling voters, “That’s a lot of judgment,” and it broke the ice well.

Most people smiled as they turned to look for an open privacy booth in which to fill in the little circles below the names they wished to support and I would add, “any booth with no legs below the curtain.” Proudly, our table had the fewest mistakes, the fewest ballots that needed voiding because of voter error. When a ballot is rejected by the machine, it is voided by the voter and placed by the voter in a special sealed bag of rejected ballots. A new ballot is issued. I know people are concerned about voter fraud and that’s why we are there.

The voter turnout for this midterm election seemed extraordinary, at least to me, and I have worked several of them.

I was up at 4:30. Dressed in the dark. Tried not to wake my wife. Found fresh, thick socks. Out the door. The dog came with me, anxious for a morning scout of the property. I checked the lunar eclipse. Took it as a good omen, why not? Stopped for two coffees to go. Two minutes late, I walked into a room full of hustle and bustle, and the election polling station was set up in record time with the big “VOTE HERE” sign placed out by the state highway and the blank ballots loaded in the printing machine and the “zero” test count printed.

Before 6 there was a line of voters waiting in the parking lot. 6 a.m., doors open.

There was no time for breakfast, no time for lunch, the line was constant -- and we had three sign-in modules – and just as the line came down to one person, in came another crowd. No time for dinner.

The oldest voter to sign in at my table was born in 1926. Then there was one from 1928 and she drove herself. I told the guy from 1934 he had a way to go.

No MAGA hats this time, the voters were courteous and curious, and people who knew each other took a moment to acknowledge each other no matter their assumed political preference, and I took this as hopeful too, that the country as a whole was decompressing from Trump, from Covid, from January 6.
The citizens working next to me were great. You should know that every table, every machine, has a representative from both the Republican and Democratic parties working side by side to inspect every action needed to vote. These people are dedicated and smart and concerned that the process is conducted right and fair. I have every confidence this is the way it is across the whole country. If someone is going to start claiming voter fraud, they are going to have to prove it, and I won’t believe it until I see some proof. Mistakes are made. We are human, but there are numerous checks and balances, and, overall, the system is upgraded and improved with every election. Feedback counts. Every state has its own system and regulations. If the state legislators don’t engage in voter suppression, or racial discrimination in voting rights (why the Civil Rights Act was necessary), and if we can learn to control district gerrymandering by both parties, the process will improve and protect what we have come to understand is a vulnerable proposition – democracy.

Many voters try to hand us their driver’s license to sign in. We say, no thank you. Take a look at your license someday. It is miniaturized. Who can even read it? Every voter must tell us their name, their address, their birthday and then they must sign in on a magic writing pad. If a person’s signature does not match the signature on file, either the Republican or Democrat inspector, or both, can ask the voter to please sign again. We probably asked twenty voters to please try signing again, and this, to me, is the best protection against fraud. People get second chances, third. The intent is to make sure every legitimate vote is counted while simultaneously confirming the voter is registered and real.

I was the green-go bag guy who gets the preliminary count from the machines to town hall as soon as the data chips come out of the machine and are placed in the green-go canvas bag by the machine operators, and by the time I got the bags with chips of data to Tara, the town clerk, I was fried and a bit delirious, and in the dark, finally home, I tried not to wake my wife.

To see what’s the news across the nation, I went to my couch and turned on the TV. There was a surprise in the works, to me, a happy surprise.

The dog wants out. Time for her evening reconnoiter. I stayed up late. A midnight snack of crackers and cheese.