Stacy Horn

It was similar in some ways to my experience working for the 2010 U.S. Census. A large group of people of varying skills and abilities were thrown together for a very short time to perform a big, important, and complex job. Most of us were strangers to each other, we had to figure out on the fly who could do what and then just go.

I got there at 5am, and I was immediately told to set up the ballot scanner. This is a very serious task. To avoid fraud and mistakes there was a lot of breaking of seals, recording seal numbers, checking initial ballot counts, making sure there were no ballots already in the ballot box, etc.

No sooner was that done when I was told to sit at a desk and start checking registered voters and handing out ballots. I looked out and there was already a long line of impatient people who wanted to vote and get to work. I didn’t know what to do. I was trained, but that was a month ago and I didn’t remember a damn thing. It’s not rocket science, but I drew a complete blank. Within seconds I had a still growing line of polite but stressed-out people who were looking at me like, what is wrong with you?? Give me my freaking ballot!! But, but, there’s a procedure. If only I could remember what it was.

I don’t know how I pulled it together, but I did. I made a few mistakes, but nothing critical, and they were the kind I could easily fix in the first lull (thank you, Joe). I loved it. It was insane, but I loved it. And that was because people feel so passionate about voting. Many were anxious for one reason or another, and later angry, which I will explain, but they were there to do something they really wanted to do and I was helping them do it. It felt great.

Here’s why people got angry. Because so many people had been displaced due to Hurricane Sandy, Governor Cuomo said any registered voter could vote at any poll site. This was absolutely the right call. But each poll site has only the list of registered voters for that district. So people voting outside their district had to vote using a special ballot called an affidavit ballot. These ballots will be checked later, and, if the person is a registered voter, counted. The problem was, a lot people were just voting wherever it was the most convenient for them when they wanted to vote.

We ran out of affidavit ballots at around 7:30pm. At that point there was still time for people to run to their regular poll site or to look for another site that might have some affidavit ballots left. But as time went on it became too late for some people to reach their regular poll site where they wouldn’t need an affidavit ballot.

From around 8 to 9 we had a small group of determined voters who were angry at us, angry at Cuomo, and angry at the universe. I didn’t blame them at all, and most of them managed their anger well. However, one guy spent that hour getting everyone’s name, the names of every election official the poor coordinator at the site could remember, all so he could write congress. And say what? How dare you have a hurricane that knocked out the power for a half a million or more people, so that they had to vote outside their district and the polling sites didn’t have enough special ballots to accommodate them? Trucks with affidavit ballots were frantically trying to move through NYC traffic to I don’t know how many poll sites, but that effort was doomed (I think they got to our site at 11).

Still, it was an absolutely marvelous experience. One woman had a problem with her ballot and she came over and put it down in front of us in such a way that everyone could see who she voted for, and her vote was for Romney. She saw what she had done and said, “Oh I don’t care, you liberals …” and I wish I could remember what she said, because it was the kind of teasing I love, funny, true, but not unkind. The guy next to me didn’t miss a beat. He immediately started joking right back in the same vein about conservatives and it was a wonderful moment.

The only downside to the experience was we were isolated from the election. We weren’t allowed to talk about it the whole day because our conversations might influence voters.  We also weren’t allowed to have a radio to listen to the news. I didn’t know until after midnight how the election was going. When the polls closed, I knew Obama had won in our district, but knowing he would win in New York was no surprise.  How was he doing out there??

I found out in a particularly fun way. When I got out of the subway in the West Village people in the streets were screaming with joy. I knew my neighbors would only be screaming with joy about Obama.

Update: I totally forgot. I was assigned to a poll site in an area of the city that was still without heat. Not only did I work for nineteen hours straight, I was freezing cold for nineteen hours straight. The building wouldn’t let us bring in space heaters, so people took their ballots from my ice-cold shivering hands.

Whenever I went out to charge up my computer I brought a power strip with me. That’s my power strip sitting on top of my backpack at a Starbucks. I did this so other people could share whatever outlet I managed to find. I wish I had thought of this generous gesture myself, but I got the idea from my neighbor Beth, who clearly is a nicer person than I am!

But I just worked for nineteen hours straight and then only slept for three hours afterwards. I may post later this afternoon, but for now I’m just checking in to say yay! And I will have a lot to say later about working as a poll-worker.

I took this in the middle of last week, when New York was without power and we were all walking around searching for food and a place to charge our computers and phones, and for places to take showers and be warm for a little while. In the midst of all that the tour buses went on.

At first I thought, what the hell? But then I realized, these poor people. They plan vacations, buy tickets for various shows, events, and so on, and they get here and Broadway is shut down, events are cancelled, and many hotels were closed. Their vacations and the money they spent on them went largely down the drain. Then I felt really, really bad for them.

I have to report for duty at my poll site tomorrow, at 5am. It didn’t occur to me until yesterday that I am probably expected to stay until the polls close, and a little after. We have to seal everything, and hand the ballots to the NYPD. We might be working seventeen hours straight. That can’t be right! Right?? That’s absolutely insane. I just checked the card I was sent. That is right. Good lord.

Note to all Americans: be very kind to your poll workers, especially if you’re voting late. They have been at it since 5am!!

Bleeck is hanging on Obama’s every word. Or, he’s having a nice nap.

An update follows this post from this morning.

The New York City Marathon would have gone a long way to making me feel better today. I’m fine really, all I lost was the food in my refrigerator, and I was cold for a few nights, and while my friends and family have varying degrees of loss, no one died. (My father went into the hospital though! He’s out and stable, but poor him!) We’ll see how many people leave Echo because we were down for a day, but I’m guessing not many.

I’m wondering how many of the people who thought the Marathon should be cancelled have actually ever attended a marathon. It’s not that I’m insensitive to the fact that people died and lost their homes. It’s in part because all the stories are destroying me. I wish I could explain it. It’s the sight of people who have been training all year, and for years, war veterans running on prosthetic limbs, people racing in wheelchairs, people with cancer, or who have children with cancer, and all the people running for charity—one of which I supported and of course the money goes to the charity anyway.

There’s nothing like it. Maybe it’s because I always position myself somewhere along the last mile, as close to the end that I can get. The runners are almost at the finish line and they know it. It brings something out of each of them. Many look like they can’t take another step, except they all just keep on going even if the best they can do is limp. Through sweat, tears, and blood (lots of blood) they summon something, something absolutely determined and miraculous, and I get to see that happen over and over, thousands of times. I can never watch without crying and walking away believing anything is possible, one can always strive and try again, and even people who have been totally screwed over by life in some way, shape or form, can win.

UPDATE: Well, the marathon runners made me cry even without running. This picture comes via @911BUFF. It’s a crowd of runners boarding the Staten Island Ferry to volunteer instead of running. Thank you wonderful runners!

Con Ed employees by the generator they set up so people could recharge their phones and computers. My grandfather worked for Con Ed his entire life so I have a soft spot for Con Ed employees. He never missed a day of work and one day, when he didn’t come in, one of his fellow employees joked, “Oh! Walter didn’t come in today, he must be dead.” And he was!

Wishful thinking on the part of one of my neighbors. I thought it was a great idea when I saw it, and we did get our power back yesterday morning. But I’d spent the day cleaning up and I was just too exhausted to leave the house last night. I’m guessing most of us were feeling the same.

All the trees we lost. It breaks my heart. God knows how old many of these trees were. It’s one of the greatest things about the neighborhood, all the great big beautiful trees.

Sob. I’m not showing the half of it, because, as I said, I seemed to have broken my camera AGAIN. But there were downed trees everywhere. Oh, and thank you Department of Sanitation! Talk about being exhausted after all the clean-up.

We shall see! I just finished foraging, (broccoli, apples, and a Cosi sandwich) and now I’m quick checking my email, making this post, checking the presidential polls and then I’m heading home. Hurricane Sandy did not make a dent into my poll addiction.

A enterprising bike shop puts up signs at the subway stops.

A number of very kind businesses (and Con Ed) set up generators on the street and let anyone who came by power up. But this shop, a UPS store on 7th Avenue between 18th and 19th, gave out power AND CANDY. So a big thank you to UPS! I’ll bet it was the idea of the guy looking at the camera. He has such a sweet face.