Absolutely this won't cheer anyone up, but I thought I'd include a little narrative I emailed to a friend that I'll call:
My Day of Hell in Clark County Ohio!
or, "Yes, you should be afraid."
I spent 13.5 hours outside, mostly in the rain,
yesterday, from 6:15 AM to 7:45 pm (it rained probably
10 of those hours), as a poll rep for the local Dems
in Springfield, OH.
I was basically just sitting there, way more than 100
ft away from the polling location, with a Kerry sign
and some democratic candidate slates, but I was still
harassed and pestered by republicans who were
offended, OffendeD!, by my presence.
First, I had to move three times because the head
ballot judge, inside, was really incensed that I was
there at all, and she repeatedly moved me on down the
line until I was no where near even the parking lot.
Although I was well within my rights to be there, the
Dems decided not to press the issue.
Then came the passers by. One woman told me it was
"immoral" for me to be there. A man finished a racist
and homophobic rant with an eyebrow raised and a "you
better be careful." Long meaningful glare.
Someone called the police and said (falsely, of
course) that I was yelling obscenities and threatening
voters. So I had a nice chat with a really great cop,
who had no patience for their complaints, and took
down my description of the evil homophobe who had
harassed us.
A woman in a car drove past and screamed: "John
Kerry is a Baby-Killer."
Another man came by and took pictures of me with his digital
camera and said he was going to report me to the Board
of Elections.
I also experienced some lovely acts of kindness--a
woman brought me homemade cookies and a big 24 oz. cup
of hot coffee from a convenience store when it got
cold as night fell. A man in the early morning hours
offered to buy me something from Hardee's. A
girlfriend of mine joined me, latte in hand (well,
let's just confirm all those "blue state" stereotypes
. . .), and was just going to stay a couple of hours
but she stayed with me for six hours. She went out
and bought us soup when the lunch was late.
A male colleague, Steve, who was also volunteering for
the Dems, came and joined me that evening for two
hours, since I'd called in about the harrassment,
which was typically more aggressive when there was
only one of us there. The temperature kept dropping;
he got blankets from his car and brought me a bottle
of water.
I couldn't have sat there all that time without that
support. Honestly, it was actually just really hard
for me to just sit there and take in all that hatred.
So, as we sat there shivering (it had been warm all
morning, but it was really getting cold and we were
damp through and through), Steve asked me, "Do you
think it did any good to sit here all day?" I said I
wasn't sure. Did it get any more voters? Probably
not.
The thing that kills me, that I still can't believe,
somehow, is that just sitting there-just SITTING
there--beside a sign, brought out such virulent anger
in so many people. A kind of deep rage, or, at best,
a friendly-talking spitefulness like the man who
smilingly assured me he was reporting me to the Board
of Elections. A kind of barely suppressed violence.
It might have been wiser to just walk away. To leave
it to them.
I said to my friend Steve, when he asked, "I'm not
sure what this was worth. If it had been less rainy
it might have been more possible to talk to voters; as
it stands I'm just not sure if it was worth . . . " I
searched for a word. "The pneumonia?" he suggested...
(Had to laugh at that.)
That's my story. I'd love to think it was all the fault of the Guardian's Clark County campaign . . . . |
