Newsletter
Fall 2004
Making Every Vote Count
By Christopher T. Hicks
 As I received my assignment to monitor the November 2, 2004,
Presidential Election in the swing state (and ultimately the last
stand state) of Ohio as part of the Election Protection Program,
my mind was filled with one objective: make every vote count. After
witnessing the shaming of our democracy in Florida during the 2000
elections I was determined not to let it happen again.
We chose Ohio because if any place was going to be the Florida
of 2004, Ohio was going to be it. While it wasn't quite Florida
2000, the election did end up hanging on Ohio.
When I awoke at 4:30 a.m. on Election Day, I wasn't prepared for
what I would experience even though I had completed two training
sessions. I arrived at 5:30 a.m. at the Election Protection Legal
Command Center. I was paired up with a local attorney. We were
to rove around six precincts located in African American neighborhoods.
As we arrived at the first polling site at 6:30 a.m., lines were
already forming. It was then that I knew this would be a very long
day. By the time we made it to our second stop we began to see
problems.
The Linden Library in Columbus, Ohio, at 7:15 a.m. on November
2, 2004, was a scene of electoral chaos. There were hundreds of
people standing in two lines complaining about a voting system
that was taking too much time. When my partner and I arrived, we
asked the people in line what was the problem. They told us that
two lines was not efficient. To their frustration they had to wait
in one line to sign in and receive their voter registration slip
and then they were made to go to the back of another line to cast
their vote. The best way to deal with this in my mind was to create
one line where people signed in, received their voter slip, and
voted. My partner and I approached the presiding judge in that
polling place and asked if we could do this. She agreed and thanked
us.
But there was a much larger problem at that polling station.
At the Linden Library, precinct 25D, there were only three voting
booths for over 1,500 voters. The result was what you would expect.
People, mostly African American, were forced to stand in long lines
in the pouring rain for as long as seven hours to cast a ballot.
This problem was not limited to Linden Library. This was a systemic
problem throughout the six African American precincts in Franklin
County my partner and I monitored. We called in the problem to
the Legal Command Center, which agreed to file a complaint with
the Board of Elections. In the meantime, my partner and I collected
affidavits from people attesting to the long lines and waiting
time. What we found appeared to be no mere oversight or mistake
on the part of the people in charge of this election. How could
someone not foresee this result? Every affidavit filled out in
our six precincts told of how in elections past there had been
six to ten voting booths in the exact same locations. For this
election there were only three. We heard that in White precincts
in the same county there were six or more voting booths for registration
rolls with less people. One precinct in a White part of the county
had twenty voting booths, and of course, much shorter lines. This
left no doubt in my mind that this was a concerted effort to intimidate
and suppress African American turnout.
But a funny thing happened in Columbus, Ohio. People stayed in
line and voted anyway. And not just a couple of people. Thousands
of people. All day long they braved the rain and voted, determined
to have their voices heard. There were hundreds of first-time voters.
Hundreds of young voters, and many voters you thought you would
never see in line to cast a ballot. I had one young man come up
and ask me if he could vote even though he had an outstanding arrest
warrant. I told him he could. Perhaps the most rewarding moment
came when I saw a visibly upset man in his late 60s storming out
of the polling place. I followed him and asked him what was wrong.
He told me they would not let him vote because they said he was
not registered. He assured me he was registered and had voted at
the same location for 30 years. I asked him to come back to the
polling place. We marched into the precinct and I asked the officials
why he had been denied the right to vote. They told me that he
wasn't on the register list. I informed them that under federal
law he was entitled to a provisional ballot. They agreed and gave
him one.
As I left at 11:30 p.m., when the last voter cast her ballot
long after the polls had closed, I felt as though I had done my
best to make sure that every vote counted.
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