The Trees Have Gone Naked

The Trees Have Gone Naked.

Tremendous winds quickly disrobed the trees of their final bits of cloth this fall. The leaves, snatched from the line where they hung, wafted high on the breeze, circling around, dancing in one final frenzy, then added their gay splendor to the golden carpet now stretching across my back yard.

I have complained about this fall. We had beautiful color gracing all the trees but the rain snatched away the iridescent glory that makes the red and golden leaves seem to shine from some inner light. They still were beautiful against a background of gray gloom waiting to dump showers on our head. It wasn’t that it actually stormed for most of the fall, but a solemn gray breathed into the atmosphere and mist clung to the windshield and hung heavy in the air.

I have always wanted the share the beauty that is Michigan in the fall with the entire world. Undaunted by rain, determined to do so, I headed out fearful the rain would quickly undress the trees. Somehow enough of the leaves tenaciously clung to their perches and the color remained until it finally peaked. I snapped some pictures in the gray and seemed satisfied. Then the sun came out a week later and I had it all to do over. I had watched the rain wash the skies in confetti showers. Then grace our lawn with the droppings of colored dew. But there was enough leaves remaining on the trees to still make me gasp.

So here is my color tour. There was too much beauty to pick. So I have published an album of fall color on my web site. Here is the link to the album's first page.

I am saddened that I was unable to capture so much of our fall beauty. The moment had passed for some of the harvesting pictures. But there is always next year. I hope you agree with me. Michigan is awesome. I know our color is not unique, but I don’t think other places are able to surpass what we get to enjoy just by staring out our front window or driving up the street.

Election Frenzy... the fun never stops!

After having done it once, I am convinced that every American citizen should be an election official at least once to retain the right to vote. I have a feeling it would end a lot of griping about the system and how it works.

In our small community the age of the average election official is 70 years old. Can you imagine that? This past year 6 officials in our community “quit” for the final time. One of them was my mom who turned 90 in August. She felt she was justified when she resigned, or as she put it, “I’m not as young as I used to be, and I just can’t stay up and work like I did in the past.” My daughter has worked as an election official and since I am a little bit retired, I figured it was my turn to carry on the family tradition. So I signed on to do my duty. Hey this job pays $7/an hour and it’s not like you have to do it every day.

I had to declare my political party affiliation when I registered. I told them I considered myself a true blue independent and voted by issues not by affiliation. Perhaps I could declare myself a member of the Green party. Well that just is not allowed. I had two choices, Republican or Democrat. I thought I leaned more in the direction of the Democrats so I said, “OK, I’m a Democrat.”

The closer the election came the hotter the looming election became. They expected record turn-outs with party challengers and attorneys present at each polling place. This would be a first here in Albion. Those connected with the election were getting a bit nervous about the upcoming event. Me! What me worry? I’m a first timer. I’ll show up and pass out applications to vote. Easy money, baby! Good for me. And for this I will get paid, see a lot of people I know, and I expect, overall I am going to have a good time. Well, there is that bit about being there at 6:30 in the morning and having to stay until the last vote is counted and everything balances perfectly. Worst scenario, I’ll be home by midnight! I can handle that.

So, I’m up and at em on Tuesday morning. My lunch is packed to last all day. I have filled a small cooler with diet coke. I have snacks and cookies, sandwiches and plenty of water. I park in a very dark lot, and by cracky I am the first to arrive. I look though my essentials and take a bottle of water and some crackers in with me. Soon everyone was there and we were busy getting situated for the first voters. I didn’t get my easy job. A precinct is usually staffed with 6 people. We had 4.

The official call to vote is to be announced promptly at 7am. A loud cry is raised outside the official polling place “Hear ye! Hear ye! The polls are now open!” (isn’t that so cool!) The doors are thrown open. It is raining. The voters have started lining up before the joyous cry is sounded. We launch the election in our precinct promptly at 7am and our first voter walks through the line. We are in great spirits.

The lines are crowded. By 10am I have writer’s cramps and I’ve only been doing this for 3 hours. I have 10 more hours to go. I’m thinking this isn’t much fun, actually. I need a bathroom break. I need another bottle of water. There are challengers standing right behind me watching everything I do. There is an attorney assigned by the Democratic Party strolling about making sure everything is done properly. Now that sounds a bit stressful. But I am so busy I am completely unaware of being watched. The challengers turn out to be neighbors of my mom’s that are 2 of the neatest people on the earth. The attorney is a very perky, bright, young woman who not only helps us when hard questions arise, she gives me water when my bottle goes empty and my extras are in the car. When I get a few voters ahead I make a mad dash for the bathroom. Thankfully, it is not occupied and I am back at my post before anyone has started yelling.

Lunch time comes and goes and there is not time to run out to the car for all that nourishment. Finally around 2pm we get a breather and we take turns eating our lunches. I’m smart enough to bring a pop and extra water back inside with me. It is my last break of the day except for the stolen bathroom dashes.

There were several times in the day when I swore I would never do this again. There are moments in the day when I laughed with the sheer joy of the moment. It is an experience I will always treasure. The greatest impact was made on me by those who truly made sacrifices to be there. They wanted to vote. There were several voters that came in wheelchairs, or dragging their oxygen tanks with them. One young woman was so ill she had to lean on someone to just be there. I saw them come on crutches, leaning on canes. We would find chairs for them to sit while they waited their turn for a booth. I was impacted by these people who really understood that voting is a privilege that some have died for us to have. I made it through the day but as I tried to tell my daughter how these voters have touched me I found tears rolling down my cheeks. They are rolling now. I will never again miss an opportunity to vote. I will never again take that privilege lightly.

I smiled at the AfricanAmerican voters wearing their “Vote or Die” shirts through the line. I celebrated with first time voters and encouraged them on starting this tradition. One older gentleman said to me, “I hate to admit it, but I’m a bit nervous. You see I’ve never voted before.” He made me smile. He took his duty seriously. He had an opinion and he would voice that opinion through his vote.

The day wound down, finally. The lines began to thin out after 7pm and by 8 when we closed the doors all our voters had been through the lines. We had expected a last minute rush. We began the final process. We would need to open all the absentee ballots and they would have to be fed through a scanner. We had carefully checked our numbers. We were balanced and feeling good. Everyone was optimistic that we would actually get out at a reasonable time.

Then the fun for me really began. In our polling place, two different precincts (There are 6 precincts here and 3 polling places) were voting. Absentee ballots must be opened and witnessed by a member of the Republican and the Democratic Parties. It seems that the only Democrat official in the other precinct had gone home ill in the afternoon. They would have to have a Democrat present before they could open ballots. The local Clerk was called. She took a survey of everyone in the building and one of our officials was a Democrat. And then of course, there was me. There was no denying it. I had signed up as a Democrat and they shuffled me off to the other team. I’d like to say I was gracious about this, but actually, I wasn’t. I had bonded with my fellow team members during the day and I was grouchy, tired and hungry by this point. I didn’t want to be shuffled off someplace else. But off I went across the room. They were about as glad to see me as I was to be a part of their team. They had a routine established. All they expected me to do was “observe” them opening the ballots. Well they had a BUNCH of ballots. (this precinct was larger than the one where I had been working and they had 3 times as many ballots to open). They were going to be doing this a very long time. Yes they were and I would be a privileged witness of how they did it.

I attempted to find a place inside the group to contribute more than my woeful eyes but was rebuffed when I offered to help. I finally pulled my cell phone out and called my daughter to bring me the book I was now reading. She did. I managed to sit myself up in a good position and observe the opening of the ballots with one eye and read my book with the other.

The team across the way completed their duties. All balanced, they loaded up in their vehicles and headed for City Hall. It was 11:30. They were through. My new group was still opening absentee ballots. Not that I was bitter, mind you!

I waited til the midnight hour. It passed and the tension seemed to ease a little. Maybe they realized I was just a tad bit goofy. Soon I had a place at the table and was fitting into the tasks. We all pitched in and the votes were counted, all “write-ins” were tabulated, all totals were balanced. I had signed my name what seemed like 3000 times stating that the Democrats were totally happy with the way things had been done. It was 1:30. We were through. The last step was being checked in at City Hall with an “all clear” given by the Clerk.

I ran for my car, eager to be home and curled up in the fetal position and fast asleep. I stared in dismay. My car was covered with a thin candy shell of ice. I revved up the motor and began looking for an ice scrapper. None was to be found. There was nothing for it but to just wait for a bit until the windshield cleared off enough so I could drive. It seemed like this took hours. Maybe it did. No! If it had, I’d have fallen asleep in the car.

There were still officials at City Hall waiting for results when we stumbled in. We were not the last precinct to finish up. There was one more out there still trying to finalize their figures. The clerk would be with us in a minute. I stopped to ask the local reporter how Kerry was doing. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t winning. But, there’s still hope she whispered to me, “Ohio may turn the tide for us.” About 45 minutes later we were done and being sent home. My first stop was my computer to see how things were going. When I read that it didn’t look like there was any hope that Kerry would take Ohio, I trundled off to bed, too tired to feel discouraged. Wednesday morning news - not much better. It was definite. George Bush had won the election. Newscasters predicted that Senator Kerry would concede the election before the day was out.

Early afternoon the Clerk called, they had made a mistake and needed me back down to City Hall. She said this was it. The county had verified our figures. It was really over. I was excited for the opportunity to be an election official. Heck, I will probably do it again the next time election time rolls around. I was just glad that this election was over.

Little did I know that my Democratic status would once again put me in demand. Here it is Thursday… 2 days later and my phone rings again. I am needed at the county seat. An absentee ballot that should have been mailed to Albion had been mismailed. Can you believe that the only one that was misplaced had to belong to the precinct where I had to sign off as a representative of the Democratic Party. So, off I went again today, thinking, “My the fun just never ends”!. But, actually, I think it has. I think for this election and our election the fat lady has finally sung. I gladly have taken the vocal here and am proud to have finished it off. I’m tired all over again.

But, it was a good experience. I think everyone should be an election official at least one time. I think they should make us work there just like they sign us up for Jury Duty. It is a very important part of the electoral process. It keeps it honest. People really need to know exactly how this process works.