WORKING THE POLLS : Tireless Patriotism : Helping voters makes you feel really good, but the hours are long and the work is trying.

Working the polls on Election Day sounded like a simple enough task. By manning a ballot box for a couple of hours, you could do your patriotic duty and perform a valuable service for your fellow Americans. After a quick call to the registrar of voters, you were on your way.

A Notice of Appointment as clerk for the November general election arrived the next week. You were assigned the Piru precinct. Included was a list of your fellow board members--three women--and the hours the polls were to be open, 7 a.m. to 8 p.m.

An added note stated that you were expected to arrive at 6:15 a.m. on Election Day. That’s awfully early in the morning, but you figured it meant you would somehow be getting the early shift so you’d be done in the afternoon and could relax before dinner, then watch the results on television. A one-hour paid training session was scheduled two weeks before the election.

Paid, you query? You were in this for the civic duty, but if the county in its wisdom deems this service worthy of monetary remuneration, who are you to judge?

It is at the training session that you learned the full scope of your commitment. You are to be there, at the polling place, working, from 6:15 a.m. until all the ballots are tallied, sometime after the polls close at 8 p.m.

That is a 14-plus-hour day, not including driving time, cooped up with three women, all certain to be your grandmother’s age, with whom you are sure to have nothing in common, while the good citizens of Piru vote. You make a mental note to more carefully check the details before volunteering for such things in the future.

Awakening on Election Day, the sun nothing more than an orange glow in the east, you followed the glow to the Piru Community Center, where you arrived at precisely 6:15 a.m. Your board inspector, Ann, arrived seconds later.

Ann turned out to be a pleasant surprise. An attractive person looking younger than her 40-something years, she was quick to laugh. A pro at this voting thing, she had already prepared the polling place the night before. You set out the American flag and readied for the polls to open.

Bobbie and Cecilia, the other board members, also much younger than you had expected, arrived moments before the first voters. By law you could not open the polls until 7 a.m., so the early voters were forced to wait.

Clerk tasks were assigned. Since you were the new kid, with Cecilia and Bobbie nearly as seasoned as Ann, you were given the “easy” job. You were to instruct new voters in the use of the voting machine. A practice model sat in front of you on the table.

First to meet the voters, Cecilia started the process by asking each to state his or her name and street address, then getting a signature beside the name in a book pre-printed with the names of all 512 registered voters in Piru. This is harder than it sounds.

Cecilia has lived in Piru all her life and knows everyone. Most people jabbed her in the shoulder and said, “You know who I am!” She had to tell each of them, “Yes, I do, but the rest of these people don’t, so say your name and address!”

Once voters had complied, Bobbie crossed their names off the list, signifying they had voted. Then she assigned each a tally number. You then asked each if he or she was familiar with the voting machine and offered instruction as necessary. You were also the keeper of the backup to Bobbie’s index. Ann handed out ballots and collected them for deposit in the locked ballot box when the voters were through.

Simple, mundane tasks, all designed to guarantee a fair and efficient election. Things ran very smoothly but for the occasional voter who wasn’t on the list. Ann had proper procedures for almost any contingency, and you functioned as a well-oiled machine. You also felt great about helping citizens make such an important contribution to their democracy.

The first couple of hours went by fairly quickly. People tended to be friendly and enthusiastic about casting their ballots. By 9 a.m., 5% of the registered voters in Piru had done their duty. Suddenly you are slammed, as they say in the restaurant business, and do another 5% of the voters in the next 45 minutes.

Friendly demeanors on the board were tested for the first time. A mistake was made but quickly caught and corrected. Several voters were not on the list so time-consuming procedures were implemented. It was over fairly quickly but you learned what it would be like when the “big rush” comes after people get off work in the evening.

Conversation between you and the voters began to take a more personal tone as the lines thinned out. Ann’s husband was on a hunting trip in Arizona trying, unsuccessfully, to “kill Bambi.” She is a beekeeper, so the conversation naturally migrated to the killer bees slowly making their way to our country. Ann told a voter that the stingers were now in Texas. “Good,” he proclaimed with glee, “ ‘cause all my exes are in Texas!”

As the evening wore on, the after-work crowd began to dwindle. At least when it was busy, the time seemed to fly by. The last hour before the polls close seemed a century. Finally, at 8 p.m., Ann declared the polls closed. You sprang into action and started the ballot count to ensure that the number of ballots given out was the same number in the box.

The count was right on the money. Sheriff’s deputies arrived to take the ballots to the government center for the final tally and inform you that the President just conceded.

You suddenly felt proud of your country and the citizens who took their responsibility for the governing of the nation seriously. You drove home and watched the late returns coming in, knowing you had contributed in some small way to the continuation of your democracy. But you don’t intend to volunteer to do it again. Unless, maybe, they have a cushion for your chair.

* THE PREMISE

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