My day started early in Bessemer, Alabama.  I was up at 5:15 and on the road to my assigned polling place in Helena  (Montana friends:  they pronounce it Hel LEE na), which is in Shelby County, Alabama.  When I arrived I did as my guidebook instructed, and started immediately to “build relationships”.  I followed someone in the door and was quickly stopped by a poll worker who wanted to know who I was and what I wanted and that they weren’t open yet.  I told her I was there to introduce myself and to let them know that I would be with them all day as an Outside Observer to make sure that everyone got a chance to cast their ballot and to assist them if there were any problems.

Just then the Poll Inspector, anticipating trouble, came over and I re-introduced myself.  She was quite on guard and said that I must remain 30 feet from the door at all times.  I asked her to help me ascertain the boundary, and she accompanied me outside and showed me where I would be able to set up my chair.  She then apologized for her seeming impoliteness, and said that she had to be very careful in following all the rules, because she had a poll watcher she had to deal with (part of the same team I was on as a Doug Jones volunteer) inside!  Then she showed me around to the side door where I could knock if I needed coffee or a restroom break.

I quickly set up my chair, my snacks, and grabbed an extra sweater, because it was bitterly cold, and the polls would be opening in just a few minutes.  I had no sooner gotten settled than I realized that I had everything needed except my coffee.  Now, I can do without a lot of things in the morning, but coffee is not one of them, so I trotted (well, more like limped) to the side door, where I was greeted by the poll worker who had initially stopped me at the front door.  She also apologized for seeming rude when she greeted me, and of course I told her I totally understood.  The contradictions in Southern behavior were illustrated more than once during the day, but I’ll talk about that later.

Precisely at 7:00 a.m. the doors were opened.  I should mention that when I drove up that morning, the parking lot, which was not small, was already almost full.  At 7:05 a.m., the first voters started leaving.  Well, that was quite impressive, but I was sure that as the day went on a line would start forming at the door and the wait would be longer.  It never did.  All day long, voters were in and out in five minutes, unless they stopped to chat with somebody.  All.Day.Long.  Do you hear me, Georgia? And with four machines, with a paper trail, by the way.

What started as a steady stream of voters continued all day, although there was a very slight decrease in the middle of the day.  The precinct was processing 300 voters an hour, by my best guess.  There were two ways to access the front door, up a short but steep hill and the area where I was, which was near the handicap parking spots with an almost flat entryway – the layout was similar to the setup in a hotel where you can stop your car in the middle while you get checked in.  Well, obviously I had to choose a side and I opted for the one where I wouldn’t be sitting at a ninety-degree angle.

A few hours into the day, I got up to stretch my legs and noticed there were some Doug Jones supporters out in the parking lot with signs, etc.  My destination assignment had been so last minute that I hadn’t had time to stop for signage at headquarters in Anniston, so I went over and introduced myself.  Back at my station with a fresh cup of coffee and happy that there were allies not far from me, I continued my conversations with voters as they were leaving.  I was startled when at the end of one nice conversation (another one of those contradictions) it suddenly turned a little ugly – the lady I was talking to snarled that she was tired of those Doug Jones supporters in the parking lot grabbing people and forcing them to vote for Doug Jones.  Um, what???  Right.  They were talking to people who had already voted, but whatever.

Here are some of my impressions throughout the day, but first, a picture showing you just  how cold and windy it was.

No, that is not what my hair usually looks like.

Now, some conversations….

A middle-aged white voter came out almost in tears.  When I asked her if she’d had problems voting, she said yes, that she was confused by the ballot, and did I know if her vote would count.  Well, obviously I didn’t, but I sent her back in and told her to talk to the Poll Inspector.  She did, and was much calmer when she came out, and reported that she was told her vote would definitely count.  As she walked away she said, and I quote, “And I voted for the one that does NOT like little children.”  Kudos to her, because that was not the case with most white women.

An elderly lady came out of the polls, and as we chatted, she told me that she didn’t really feel very well and that she had planned to stay at home, but then she got a phone call and decided she HAD to come out and vote.  So I add my thanks to the volunteers who spent hours calling to Get Out the Vote – it matters.

A middle-aged couple came out beaming and asked me what I was doing (they saw me making notes in my notebook).  I explained that I was there to help make sure nobody had any problems voting, to which the man replied “WE didn’t have any problems because we voted for Roy Moore”.  Reminded me that you can’t judge someone by their manners (one of those contradictions…), because although they seemed so nice, they had just voted for a bigoted child molester who had announced that things were better in Alabama during slave times.

I’m almost done, I promise.  The best story of the day is coming in part two, but first, this is me at 4:30 p.m.

No wind, but it was dark and cold out there.

A FORMAL COMPLAINT IS FILED AGAINST THE OUTSIDE OBSERVER.

…. to be continued in part two.