Dan Ross writes in:
I've voted faithfully for 35 years, but this was the first time I actually witnessed the election process and it was magical. I volunteered for Obama in PA and they sent me to watch the lines at a polling place in Bethlehem. It was a largely Hispanic district in the middle of a pretty conservative area where they expected the Republicans might make some mischief.I showed up shortly after 6am (the polls opened at 7) and there was one man waiting, a 60-something white guy. He had worked the 6pm-6am shift and wanted to vote before he went to sleep. A few minutes later, an older Hispanic couple (the guy was wearing one of those funny-looking knit caps that I think are Guatemalan) joined the line. Then came a few more people of various ethnic origins. As the sky began to lighten, people began walking up and driving up from all directions in ones and twos. It was like one of those horror movies where the aliens are disguised as people and mysteriously start showing up in the same place at the same time.They opened the doors at 7am sharp and everyone filed in quietly. I'd say there were about 75 people waiting at that point. Everything went pretty smoothly. At one point the lines inside became pretty confused so I went in to help the Obama pollwatcher straighten things out. The election judge kicked me out with a pretty snippy attitude. I guess she was happier when things were a mess.Later, they sent me to another precinct where someone had reported problems, but by the time I showed up things were quiet there, too. This was a very different district, where everyone knew one another and greeted each other by name. There was a local constable there with a big pot belly and a shiny five-pointed badge and the Obama campaign was concerned he might be intimidating people, but everyone seemed to accept him as an eccentric local character.What I witnessed today were just a few of the small rituals, each unique, each shaped by the traditions and demography of a tiny slice of America, that add up to an enormous national ritual that defines us as Americans. When I was canvassing for Obama over the weekend, I chatted with one obese woman sitting on her front porch who told me she wasn't voting. Why not, I asked. I've never voted, she said. She must have been about 50 years old. I still think about that. I still can't understand it.Now I'm home in NYC and waiting for the returns to start coming in. I don't know if I accomplished anything for the Obama campaign, but I sure know that it accomplished a lot for me.
