SMALL TOWN
Ours is, by any standards, a small town. We meet the criteria set by lore, learning, literature and living.
I think the most recent census put our total population at 993, plus or minus whatever lag is thought to be techniques census taking. Let's call it a thousand.
In keeping with established low of the land, the citizens of our area paraded to the voting booth - singular because there was just one of them - along with many voters all over the nation on the Tuesday designated.
In the very process of voting we became an integral part of the whole nation and the circumambient blending of small town and big city dwellers of all races, creeds, colors and political affiliations. We were taking part in a process which was being woven into a wholeness from points all over the land which would tell what we thought and felt about our circumstances. There was a massive unity at work even in our small rural gathering.
The mood continued to be folksy and friendly, however. I had neglected to take my identification along with me in the form of a Driver's license. Since I don't drive any more, I don't carry it with me wherever I go.The clerk dutifully asked me for my permit to drive which I hoped was being done elsewhere. The inquiry into my qualification and identifications held up the line of course, as the clerk - whom I have known for fifty years, at least - went to get a printed form done just for trouble-makers such as I . I was asked to write, then print my signature on the two lines at the bottom of the from while the clerk intoned the facts that if I was not who I said I was, I could look forward to a fine of some fantastic dollar amount or ten or more years in jail. “At my age, “I told her, “I think I'll take the ten years or more plan!”I had, of course, by this time forfeited my normal place in like for the voting machine across the hall. The young lady ahead of me motioned for me to join my wife and I thanked her and told her my wife and I liked to vote together because my parents always did so. Every election day one or the other would say: “C' mon, Honey, let's go down and cancels each other's vote!” The girl laughed. “My parents said and did that to! One Democrat and one Republican!” All these years I though that was one of my very own little family stories.
Just one machine at the precinct this time. I imagine it was because this was an off-year election and the turnout was expected to be light. Even with a cold, steady rain all day I was not, however, but higher than expected.
While standing there in line, I had a chance to look at the crowd of local people at the Rec Center to vote and, of the group, I found I knew very few although several other look vaguely familiar. I was reminded of how like Class Reunions Election Days can be. Everyone but us seemed to have grown older and fatter. And you wonder about the people who are not there as they should be. It hits sharply you when you realize they're dead.
At the booth! Swing the curtain shut. Tweak the latches downward, in our case... Zing! Zing! Etc!. That's it! Done! Open the curtain with a mighty sweep of the long handle and stand forth as people watch you receive a red, white and blue sticker attached to your coat: “I voted!”
You feel closer to everybody. It's a strange sensation.
Small town? Small world, too.
A.L.M. November 6, 2002 [c640wds]
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