Confessions of an Ohio poll worker, Part 2

I made it through Election Day as a precinct judge, and all the votes were counted, even the ones in the malfunctioning machines -- I think.

Editor's note: Salon published the first part of this story on Nov. 1 under the pseudonym "Lucy Paul."

By Annie Cieslukowski

Read more: Opinion, Ohio, 2006 Elections

Nov. 10, 2006 | TOLEDO, Ohio -- "Don't forget," my husband says as we leave the house at 5:30 in the morning on Election Day. "Have fun."

It's pretty dark in Toledo at that hour, and the light rain doesn't help. And on top of that, I'm scared. I'm headed to a polling place to work. It's my first time as a poll worker -- and I will be the presiding judge. I had gone to the polling place the night before to set up the voting machines, and was relieved that two of my three co-workers were old hands at this. They knew where the tables should go and how the voting logs were to be kept. Given my own minimal training for the job, or lack thereof, I sure didn't. I might have been the one in charge, but they were the ones who knew what had to be done - and how to do it.

I had signed up with the Lucas County Board of Elections to be a poll worker because I wanted to see firsthand what it was like. I had seen the long lines in 2004 and heard the stories about disenfranchised voters in my state, and how voting problems in Ohio might have determined the outcome of the presidential election.

Plus, I needed a few extra bucks.

I am assigned to Ward 4, Precinct D. I know the area well. Both my parents were born in homes less than a mile from here, and I grew up nearby. It was traditionally a Polish neighborhood until white flight took hold; many of us still make the pilgrimage to Stanley's 5-Star Market for its fresh kielbasa. I'll be working in the Thurgood Marshall Building, more commonly known as the Toledo Board of Education, which is halfway between the factory where DaimlerChrysler makes the Jeep Liberty and the streets where some Nazis marched a little over a year ago, setting off a race riot. The actual polling place is in the boardroom, and Precinct D shares the space with two other neighboring precincts of Ward 4.

In setting up the Diebold TSX voting machines the night before, nearly every number on the machine had to be documented: the serial number of the machine; the number of the seal on the memory card slot; the number on the seal affixed to the front panel of the machine. I had worked with Jon and Ken, our Republican judges, and Shirley, a fellow Democrat and newbie, to remove old seals, test machines, and reseal them so they couldn't be tampered with overnight.

The movie that we saw during training went over this quickly; it doesn't go so quickly when you're setting up four machines.

On Monday night, I had also written down two sets of numbers, one before the test and one after. I panicked when another precinct judge asked why I had so many numbers recorded. I stammered, saying I thought we were supposed to write everything down. Isn't that what the poll worker manual says to do?

She replied that she doesn't usually record everything twice, since the serial numbers stay the same. She usually just notes the new seal numbers next to the old ones and assumes they'll figure out what she means at the Board of Elections.

I had been somewhat cowed when she left, until Jon smiled and reassured me, "There's nothing wrong with being thorough."

On Tuesday morning, the whole dance of unsealing and resealing machines happens again, with a difference: This time, we've loaded the memory cards, which contain the actual ballots, into each machine.

We're still getting machines up and running at 6:30 a.m. when the voters start coming in. We try to get one machine going so they can at least begin voting with that one, but as we're trying to do this, more people are coming in and we still have to check IDs - it's a new law in Ohio, everyone has to produce one - and have them sign in. We check IDs, get a signature, activate their voter access cards, log them into the clerk's book, and check them off on three different official registration lists. The voter takes the voter access card, which is coded for our precinct, sticks it into the voting machine, and then the machine is ready to accept a vote.

Finally, everything seems to be in good working order. We're busy. At times, people are waiting for machines, but it's still early in the day and there's a definite congeniality in the air. People are excited about voting and happy to be there. The old-timers tell me that, for a non-presidential election, the turnout is looking pretty good.

It's quickly clear that the voter access cards are going to be our biggest problem. They're the size of a credit card and just as easily pocketed. Voters are supposed to hand the cards back to us after they're finished voting, but it's a major challenge just to keep them from wandering off with the cards. Each precinct has only 10, and one of ours isn't working right anyway. It keeps jumping out of the machine while people are still voting. I cover the bad card in "I Voted Today" stickers and stash it with our other supplies.

Some of the elderly people need help. These are the folks who don't use computers at home, and they're understandably nervous. If it's something simple, like how to get the voter access card into the slot, one of us will jump up and help. At other times, people will have questions about the ballot. At that time, whoever is helping the voter will call for a member of the opposite party - there are two Democrats and two Republicans at our precinct.

"Why is there only one name for this race?" one gentleman asks. I am asked that again and again, and keep having to explain that the candidate is running unopposed.

"Well, should I vote for him or not?" the man asks. All I can say is, "Sir, I'm here to help you vote, not to help you decide. You can do whatever you like."

He laughs at me.

Besides the ID law, another new wrinkle in this election is that our polling place is to have a manned precinct locator table at the front of the room. Whenever a voter comes in, we ask his or her address and look up the street in a large book. The voter is then directed to the correct precinct table. On a few occasions, the voter is directed to another polling place altogether. We are to all take turns working at this table.

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