Reporter offers first-hand account of being an election judge

It's about 5:15 a.m. and I'm in Deerfield looking for the Deerfield First Baptist Church. The coffee from Fastrip is just now starting to get cool enough to sip without melting my lips and I can use the caffeine, I'm not used to getting up at 4 a.m. I turn down a side street and look around for a building likely to be the church, I look down and slam on my brakes.

I've lived in Vernon County for more than half my life, nearly 30 years, and I've been in Deerfield hundreds of times, but to the best of my recollection all of the times I've been in Deerfield it's been daylight. It's hard to believe but darkness, lack of sleep and other distractions can make a place that is at least a little bit familiar strange territory indeed. Apparently in all that time I've lived here I've never passed this particular intersection with its concrete pillbox in it - I'm sure I'd remember it.

I'm close to my goal so I shake off my startled response and press on. I make my way to the church, park and go inside. By a table are several large suitcase-like objects, a canvas bag and a lot of empty space. The suitcase-like objects are the voting booths, they have to be unpacked and readied for use. The team consists of election judges from each major political party; two Democrat and two Republican judges plus a student assistant. We get to work.

We open the voting booths up and there are some metal legs inside that have to be removed, assembled and attached to the bottom of the booth. Trying to get them assembled correctly turns out to look a lot like the comedies with the beach chairs that don't want to unfold into a stable configuration, they want to flip and flop in all the wrong directions.

We finally get most of the booths up but one doesn't have any legs; figuring it's kind of hard to assemble something when all the parts aren't there we set it aside. All the booths have lights and need to be plugged in so we locate the rest of the booths near receptacles on the walls and plug them all in. Two of the booths don't light up and changing which receptacle they're plugged into doesn't help. Fortunately the church has lots of lights in the room we're using so it isn't really dark in those booths, we move on.

We need to set up the DRE, the electronic voting booth. Joy, the leader of our rag-tag bunch looks around and asks who knows how to set it up. No one steps forward. Joy and Amanda get the machine assembled but there is a hitch and it sits there half-ready until a phone call helps to finish the job. No one asks to use it, even after it is fully functioning but it's there in case of need.

I start counting the ballots, there are four sets, plus a couple of each kind that are rubber-banded together - provisional ballots in case of need. This is my first time working as an election judge and I just want to be helpful and get through the day without any major faux-paux. So far things are going pretty well. I haven't provoked a major scandal and all seems to be OK. Of course it's just 5:50 a.m. and we haven't had any voters come through yet but hey, you have to stay positive.

As voters come in Joy and Hazel check their names against a registration list that tells whether they get a ballot for the Northern Commissioner with water district candidates, Northern Commissioner without water district candidates, Southern Commissioner with water district candidates or Southern Commissioner without water district candidates or more simply ballot 1, ballot 2, ballot 3 or ballot 4.

After the voter checks their name and verifies their address by initialing beside it and signs their name Hazel places a numbered sticker beside their name in the registration book and she and Joy initial it. She then takes a sheet with numbered squares and puts the ballot number on the number of the sticker placed by the voters name in the registration book. This helps to ensure that the voter gets the correct version of the ballot.

Bob and I are sitting to the left of Joy and Hazel. After the voter signs Joy calls out which ballot the voter is to receive and I hand it to them, making sure that both Bob and I have initialed the ballot. I give them a spiel, it varies as the day goes by, and for good reason.

Vernon County uses an optical scan ballot that has an arrow beside each candidate or ballot issue choice. The arrow is missing the middle section and to vote for a candidate or issue choice the voter draws a line connecting the two halves of the arrow. As simple as this method is, it seems it is prone to some errors of execution. Thus as the day goes by my instructions become even more explicit about how to connect the arrow. Starting out I use language about "completing the arrow" by the end of the day I am saying "make a single line connecting the back part of the arrow to the front part."

Completing the arrow to some folks means filling in the entire space between the arrow parts. The problem is the optical scanner in use today isn't your daddy's scanner and it doesn't like it when there is a completely filled in space. It makes a funny noise and spits the ballot back out and prints out a reason for its actions.

Some voters, seeing their ballot return to them, pull it out and reinsert it without looking for an error. The scanner will then accept the ballot or again make the rude noise Some stood there and looked at the ballot like it was a three-day old fish.

When the scanner makes the rude noise I get up and go look at the printout to see what the problem is. Most of the time it is a problem with the way the voter closes the arrow and when that happens the ballot is useless and needs to be spoiled and a new ballot given to the voter who must re-mark the ballot.

The day passes and Bill Hickman, who lives on 54 west of Deerfield comes in to vote. A little later he returns with a crockpot of soup for us. The soup is delicious and is very welcome, most of us brought sandwiches for lunch and the soup hits the spot.

With the afternoon comes a slight lull in the proceedings and sitting in one spot with nothing to do brings on the yawns. The are contagious, once one person yawns it spreads among everyone. We stand up and move around some just to get the blood flowing and keep from falling asleep. By five o'clock everyone is looking at the clock on the wall computing how much time is left until we can close the polls.

At seven there are no voters in the church and we begin breaking down the equipment we put up this morning. The signs come off the doors and the booths get disassembled and returned to their suitcase-like appearance. The DRE machine is taken apart and closed up. A final check is done to be sure all the ballots are accounted for, there are very few remaining that were not voted.

A total of 40 ballots of all types is left. If fewer than 10 more people came in to vote for three of the ballot types we would haven't have had enough. There were fewer than 20 of the most numerous ballot type left. Deerfield voters made full use of their franchise this election day.

After all the checking is done and everything put back into order and the ballots and other paraphernalia that go to the county clerk's office in the big box we are done, at least Bob and I are. Hazel and Joy are headed for the clerk's office with the big box and the results.

I head out of town, avoiding the deadly intersection with the concrete obstruction and head for home. Coming into town I stop at McDonald's for a Big Mac and some fries, which I wolf down. I make a couple of phone calls catching up on things and by 8:30 I'm slipping between the covers.

My wife and I own two dogs, a Chihuahua and a miniature dachshund, both of which are hyper-active. My wife gets home from work after 11 p.m. and the dogs routinely greet her with much barking and jumping around. This night I don't notice, I sleep until my alarm clock wakes me Wednesday morning, much too early for my taste.

It has been an unusual experience for me, one that for all of its stresses and strains is one I'd do again.

Next time though, I'll take the day after off as well.