My Life as an Election Board Secretary

So, I’ve said this blog was going to be about my granny and how I plan on learning from her example and how what I’ve learned affects my life. I’ve started and believe me I think about how Granny might have handled my situation if she were me. She would handle it with perseverance and prayer. She might have even pulled her hair down around her ears. Realistically I know that Granny would never have found herself in this situation because she only had an elementary education. I however can hear her encouraging me to take it one step at a time. All the time telling me “you can do it sissy” “I have faith in you”.  

These last few weeks have been the most stressful, aggravating and riveting that I have experienced in my job. I am an Election Board Secretary; (My pay does not reflect the responsibilities, but we’ll discuss this on another day). don’t get me wrong, I am blessed with an amazing staff that if it weren’t for their diligence nothing would get done.  I’ve only been here since May 1, so I rely on their expertise. The title might seem all up there and all but I assure you it is a position that requires my perseverance and an attitude that reflects Christ in order to accomplish the daily tasks ~ all because of changes…the biggest is the re-districting. Can I hear an AMEN from the crowd?

The largest task I’ve had to complete since taking the reins in May has been the momentous task of re-districting.  The task is huge because of the booming in population; My County has grown over 23% in the last decade.  In 2000 the population came in at 70,641 in 2010 the population grew to a whopping 86,905 and continues to add new homes every month. This means that My County has gone from a rural county to a suburban county. Thus when the Oklahoma Legislators finished dividing up the county in equal population segments for the Congressional, House and Senate as well as Judicial, and the County Commissioners doing the same, Our County ended up looking like a 100 piece jigsaw puzzle. A puzzle that I had to make look organized and the only picture I had was an outline of the county.

The first part of the task was redrawing the lines. This was accomplished with the help and assistance of CSA—Center for Spatial Analysis located in Norman at the Oklahoma University Campus. (I’m a huge OU fan). The precinct lines were redrawn only where they had to be drawn. Precincts cannot cross any of those lines that were drawn for Congressional, Judicial, State Senate and House or Commission. This left me with few choices; I made only those changes that had to be made.  This part of the task I knew all along was going to make some people un-happy campers, but it was out of my hands, I had to follow the state statutes and complete the task.

The second part of the task was accomplished after the state completed the transition from the old to the new lines. This took place after the 15^th of December.  Once we ran the report we found that several thousand voters were not correctly transferred and adjustments to the mapping had to be made. Our first report showed that 32 thousand voters would need to be notified. After we finished the adjustments somewhere around December 22, we were happy to see that only around 15 thousand were affected.

In attempting to take care of the second part of the task (notification of voters) we ran into a few obstacles. The Election Board Budget did not allow for such a large mailing. (Budget was cut $26k) The comment from my commissioners was “we know you’ll work within your budget”. Sure thing, I can rub two pennies together with the best of ‘em, but give a girl a break! Not only is it a Presidential election, we have new voting machines, new computer programs, and last but not least the re-districting. Can anyone else see that there might be an issue where more money could be an essential part of getting the job done?  I’m good at finding creative solutions and I’m as frugal as they come but I’m seeing a huge problem here. To top it off I’m still learning the county process (which let me say will drive a sane person to jump). I have these 15 thousand pieces of mail, I need printed envelopes, printed letters, printed labels, printed voter ID cards, envelopes need hand labeled, them to be stuffed and last but not least postage. If I have a company do it for me I need the cost to be under $10 thousand, because if it isn’t then I have to send out for bids. (there was not time for the bidding process we are in a time continuum).

A metro mail house, once hearing our dilemma offered a solution by printing the letter, voter ID cards and the letter. We sent the information to them and then found out everything was a PDF and not a data file, more headaches.  Finally, everything was printed and ready to be delivered to the USPS. I paid the postage by getting a PO for the post office the Monday before the Wednesday that they had to be mailed. (All notifications had to be in Voters hands by January 14)

Growing pains is a given whenever there is substantial growth in a relatively short period of time. In My County one of those growing pains is the 911 address system. Some residences have experienced up to five address changes in the last six years. Thus we have our next obstacle. Remember that 15thousand piece mailing; as of today over 3000 have been returned because of addressing issues. Now we have the task of trying to notify voters of the changes and the need for them to fill out a new voter registration.

I keep hearing my Granny cheering me on saying “You can do it!” I am doing my level best to keep the smile on my face with an attitude that reflects the love of Christ. Yes, I can do this but the only reason is because God is at my side reminding me that if my Granny could overcome the obstacles placed in her path and survive that I would survive as well.  

Tales Told With My Great Uncles

   Three older men gather together greeting each other with grins, moist eyes, and bear hugs. Their faces weathered by years of hard labor and sunshine. They sit around the table and begin to talk. Suddenly, long ago years become only yesterdays. Voices once quiet and rough become animated as they share memories perked by their reunion. 

   Memories of their upbringing transport thoughts back to the interesting and humble life they led. Shaking their heads and looking down at their hands, the wonders of God's plans to bring them where they are today...they never would have imagined. Their stories have been told to me from the time I was knee-high to a jaybird. My Granny, was their half sister. I sit with the three of them today trying to capture their stories for my children, so they too can know where our roots got their start.
   They began to expand on a story they all vividly recalled. Three young brothers; J.B., Eull, and Gilbert traveled in a pack across the countryside. Just 18 months separate each of them--their momma was busy! They lived in the far northeastern part of Oklahoma outside Sallisaw and near Fort Smith, Arkansas, (if you take the back roads). There really wasn't a town per se, but there was a country store and a one-room school house. 
   On this particular day, the boys had a long day at school and they were glad to get home to their log house that their Papa built on a spot of ground north of Nicut. The place was back off the main road , so Papa had to carve out a path to the house which sat close to the hillside near a natural spring. They were lucky because that spring provided running water year 'round. Papa used logs that he had cut up on the hill that was located northwest of the place where he built the home. He borrowed some horses from a friend to drag the logs down to the spot he picked out. He hewed two sides before he stacked the logs. Papa hand-built a one-room house with a front and back door and one window on the south side. 
   The boys were glad to get home from school and like all kids, especially boys, they were hungry. They had some biscuits with fat back for breakfast. Eull was the first to burst into the house, "Mom is there somethin' that we can eat?"
   "Eull you know that I try to have somethin'. Look under the cloth on the table there," Momma quipped. 

   The three boys greedily gathered the bread left from breakfast and slathered blackberry jam across the thick slices. J.B. still swallowing his first bite and with traces of blackberry jam staining his cheeks asked. "where's Papa?"
   "Son, your daddy left this morning with his old pistol and I haven't seen him since", she said. 
   After the boys finished their after school snack Momma sent them out to gather wood to burn that evening. Curiosity on the whereabouts of their father and why he carried the old pistol with him, gave them fanciful ideas on his real mission. Before they could muster more than a couple of 'hero to the rescue' stories they heard a strange noise. It was not a familiar sound to their ears. They looked up and were astonished to see a Model A driving up their dirt road. It was the car their road had ever hosted. The wood dropped from their arms and they went running to the house to see who was coming to visit, and very excited to see this man-made marvel.
   It was the thirties and there weren't many cars around, much less cars that traveled to see them. They made it to the house before the car and to their surprise Papa was driving! When Papa got out and shut the door he had a sideways grin and a twinkle in his eye, "What do ya think boys?" he asked. 
   "Whose is it?" Eull piped.
   "It's mine", he said, standing back looking at it with an admiring gaze. Papa folded his arms in pure satisfaction. 
   J.B. had run into the house to get Momma and they appeared on the porch. 
   "Oh Lord! Harve where did you get that thing?", Momma said while wiping her hands on the faded apron that had seen better days. 
   This 'thing' as Momma referred to it was just partly a Model A. Someone had cut off the backside making it resemble a pickup truck. To Momma it looked awful, but for the boys it was beautiful.
   "Papa, tell us where'd you get it?", all three boys chimed in unison. 
   "Well, I'll tell ya, I traded my old pistol for it." 

   The boys swiftly looked up at Papa, then looked at each other before looking at the beautiful machinery sitting in their front yard.
Papa was working for the WPA--the Works Project Association. He worked up the road just a few miles from home. He explained to Momma that he planned on hauling other workers to and from the job to help pay for gas. A gallon of gas could be purchased for only five or six cents. Momma agreed with him that it was a good move no matter how hideous she thought the 'thing' looked. 
   The next day the boys could not wait to tell everyone at school about Papa's truck. The stunned expressions on the other kids faces made the boys popular and caused the once silent school room to burst in animation. The teacher was quick to silence the class and retrieve control with just a tap on her desk and a raised eyebrow.
   Life began to change for the better because of the Model A truck. Papa went to work every day and got home before the sun set behind the hill. The 'thing' was making his job easier.
   Near sundown, the boys were ready to jump into bed. Momma would read to them for a short time from an old western book she borrowed from a neighbor. It was a "shoot 'em up" where the crooks were being hunted and chased by a Texas Ranger. Momma only read a short time mainly because she didn't want the book to end too soon, and because she had to read by a coal oil lamp which didn't give much light. 

   Coal oil was costly and Momma was frugal. It cost a whole nickel for one gallon at the Shannon store. There was a charge ticket at Shannon Blaylock's store which the boys had watched Momma use every time they went. J. B. still thought Momma could just get anything she wanted with that charge ticket, but Eull and Gib knew better.
   Time passed quickly and before long the old Model A began to have flat tires nearly every night. Papa would have to fix a flat or two every time he got home from work. The road was dirt and the path to the house was full of rocks and small stumps left over from where Papa had cut the brush and trees down to build the road that went to the log house. The boys just knew it was the road to the house that caused all the trouble.
   One night Papa got home right at dark. It was in the wintertime and the days were shorter. When he pulled up to the house one of the tires was going down. The swoosh of escaping air continued as he got out of the truck. Papa set right off to take care of the latest flat. He got a hand air pump and the patches and boots that he used to do the repairs. It was dark by now so he brought the tire in the house to fix. The boys liked to watch him work. 

   Papa first took the tire off the rim and pulled of the tube to see what he would have to do to get it fixed. Then he pulled it back together and started pumping it back up. Papa would pump a while then he would step on it to see if it had enough air. If the thought that it still needed more, he began to pump again. There were no gauges to check how much air was still needed. When he finally had enough air to make it firm he put the tire between the beds. 
   The house was so small that two beds set end-to-end with about one foot in between. This is where Papa put the tire. 
   The boys were already cuddled in bed under the thick quilts to stay warm. All that heated the small house was a barrel laid on its side that papa had made into a stove. The boys were more than anxious for Momma to start reading. When she had finished reading the night before the ranger was trying to catch some cattle thieves what had been running off the cows. The boys had talked about it and hoped that that there Ranger would catch them thieves all together and take them to jail. They could hardly contain themselves as they anxiously waited for momma to begin reading. 
   "Tom the Texas Ranger was up on a hill watching the cattle he was protecting, waiting for the rustlers. One of the thieves was sneakin' up on Tom getting closer and closer. He finally got close enough to take aim. He paused, then...

   " BOOM!!! 

   The noise was so loud that it shook the whole house. Papa, sleeping on the backside of the bed, jumped clear over Momma and he hit the floor before the boom had quit ringing. Eull moved almost as fast. Gib, J. B., and Momma were all sitting up, and just as scared as papa and Eull.
   Momma spoke, "Lord, Harve what was that? Is someone shooting or something?"
Papa looked around and he finally settled down enough to see what had happened. 
   "Aw that damn tire blowed out"
   "I'll have to fix it again in the morning. Hell, Momma, I thought that Ranger had been shot."

   Loud laughter filled the room and suddenly we had traveled full circle. The smiles brought out deep wrinkles that rippled across their faces. For a short time they had relived an episode from their past. Talk continued between the three and the rest of the world stopped as their reverie once again took them to the days of their youth and they took off on another adventure.

"Bulling-Up"

Every day that goes by something is reminding me of my Granny. Today it was one of my election officials who reminded me of an attitude my Granny would get sometimes she called "Bulling-Up".
It's a look that reflects the inner attitude on a particular subject or life at hand. The eyes are narrowed, eyebrows are strait, lips are pursed, and arms are generally folded across the chest tightly. Even when speaking the "Bulling-up" person will have short clipped answers, and will top them off with a stiff smile. You know the one, the smile that if they bent their lips just the slightest bit north their whole face would crack. So instead they cock their head to the side, and angle one corner ever so slightly towards the sky.
It has been a crazy week, the 15K mailing that had to happen because of the redistricting containing new voter ID cards hit mail boxes yesterday, people are calling by the minute either wanting to verify or complain about their relocation, construction of the parking lot behind our building and the lack of parking available for my Officials, the mock election, training for Election Officials, and the hype from the New Hampshire primary causing more people to come in to register, not to mention that we have these new election machines that were not working on Monday... Crazy Busy is the only way to describe the near insanity that I've been feeling.
So today, was the last day of the mock election. It was also the third and last day where my election officials where practicing on the new election machines. Every 3 hours 3 to 4 teams consisting of 3-4 people each came to the Election Board. Each team was there to learn the new election machines and get to practice until they felt comfortable. (Believe me the last thing any of us want are our election officials not to feel comfortable with these machines on election day.) Each session I would talk to the officials making sure they felt comfortable and to explain some of the changes that have been taking place in the State and also in the County concerning the Election Board. Needless to say they all agreed that we were hit with many more changes than any of us expected. (except me... I'm a Murphy's Law kind of Girl. I've learned where I'm concerned if something is going to go wrong or get more complicated it'll happen to me).
During the last session today I had 8 Officials, two teams. During all the other sessions they all greeted me with smiles, real smiles the kind that is reflected in the eyes. This session there was one lady who had that "Bulled-up" look that my Granny would get sometimes when she was not happy about a situation. (I'm trying to be polite here... she was really really not a happy camper when she had that look). I began my spill to the group ~ all the time glancing at the one who I knew was not happy. I then began to look at it as a challenge to break down that barrier, she seemed to have built before she ever arrived. I crossed my arms tightly across my chest each time I turned my body towards her, still speaking in my light gregarious voice smiling with my eyes. When I would turn away from her I would uncross my arms and begin to speak with my hands moving like an Italian. (bad habit on my part). About the 4th time I released my arms while facing her and she released hers. I went on to speak for another 3 or 4 minutes then I got her to smile, a real smile that reflected in her eyes. I set them out to do their practice session and I actually heard her laugh. We broke down some of the animosity she was feeling towards us because of her precinct moving to another location. When the session was over my assistant talked to her and was able to calm her fears even more. We had a win/win situation. Love it when that happens. To top off the day I was reminded that we are closed on Monday! YEA! I'm ready for a break!

Dealing with Drama

My job requires me to work with over a hundred people who in some ways are like volunteers. Election Officials get paid but the amount of money they get paid for the job they have to do is ~ well ~ a penitence. So I make sure that they are treated with respect, and honor. I need them, we all need them if we want the Election Process to work.
Some may not realize the impact that the re-districting has had on the county. It has been extensive. Precinct lines throughout the county have had major changes. This means some voters, who have been voting at the same location for over 30 years will change polling locations. The backlash in all of these changes includes the addition of 10 new polling places and the loss of 3. We've gone from 33 precincts to 36. Many of the lines that had to be re-drawn pushed some polling places out, which demanded that new ones be located. This has made it so some of the Election Officials are re-located. This fact alone is what is causing what I consider worse that teen-aged drama. I'm getting phone calls from some that express... "If I can't work at this location with these people None of us will work!" ??? Really?
I am in a difficult place. I have 45 new officials that need to be placed with seasoned officials in order to learn the ropes. Only no one wants to help. This has got to be the most frustrating thing I've ever dealt with. I am having to constantly smooth ruffled feathers because I need these people. I have an election on the horizon and larger elections looming. Ugh!
If I had to bend your ear to explain everything that has been transpiring during the last few months it would take several hours for me to explain. Craziness does not even come close to describing this situation.
Have no fear, this will get done. I trust God to open the doors that I need.
I am still smiling, I only hope that my smile will continue when the next time I hear "If I can't have it my way then I won't work". Every time I hear that attitude I feel like I am listening to Nellie Olsen from Little House on the Prairie.   That helps me keep my smile but for a second I want to get all up in their face and say "FINE!" I would never do that and as soon as the thought appears, God squelches it and reminds my spirit that my goal in life is to reflect Him.

Daddy's Momma

One of my earliest memories had to do with my Granny.
My Daddy was a cross country truck driver. He would be going for weeks at a time. At the same time he would be home for a solid week as well once in a while. We lived in a small 3 bedroom cement block house about 2 miles from Granny and Gram-pa's house.
One evening after daddy had been on the road for several days, he came home, Mom, my brother, and I hugged and kissed him and showered love all over him. My brother was really little. I don't think he was talking yet. My memory jumps around a little but I remember Daddy standing at the door with his hand on the handle telling my mom... "I'm goin' to Momma's". I knew exactly where he was going, he was on his way to Granny's house. I recall that I bounded to the door, with my bouncing Shirley Temple curls, wrapped my pajama covered arms around his legs and pleaded. "I want to go to Momma's house!"
Daddy chuckled and looked at Mom, shaking his head, now I that I look back I imagine he was shaking his head in disbelief that I was so passionately determined to go with him. He and my mom laughed, and acquiescented to my plea and mom said, "You need to get a coat on". Daddy reached down and popped me up to his arms and I hugged his neck as tight as I could. Mom brought my coat and I slipped one arm at a time into the sleeves always maintaining a grip around daddy's neck to make sure he wouldn't forget me. Mom kissed us both goodbye, her and daddy always shared a sloppy kiss. I remember that it always made mom smile and of course my daddy would have a Cheshire grin on his face as he walked away.
I don't remember the ride to Granny and Grampa's but I know it was dark and I remember daddy carried me. I hung onto him like a monkey. Granny and Grampa were joyed to see daddy and granny was "tickled pink" to see me. The room was dark the lights back then did not provide great lighting. The were watching a ballgame. Grampa was in his lounge chair with the foot rest kicked out and Granny was sitting on the couch drinking her iced tea in a mason jar. They both had a "Lucky Strike" lit so the smoke was circling their heads.
I ran and hugged my granny and she squeezed me tight. I Loved my Granny so very much.

Memories of Granny

My granny was a special lady. I was her favorite and I knew it, but she would never own up to it if asked. However when she made her children something she would make one for me as well. Once she made my uncles  their wives, my aunt, her husband, my mom and dad ponchos for Christmas. I was the only grand-kid that got one, it was like my "Coat of Many Colors".  I was so proud. I remember her telling me, "now Sissy, don't go showing off, I don't want them others mad at me." I loved my poncho. And if I remember correctly I was a little bit of a turd because I did do some boasting but I tried not to make a big deal... I never rubbed it in or did the "I got one and you didn't". It was just the fact that my awesome Granny made me one just like the adults. I was special.
I spent hours and hours with my Granny. I would take every opportunity to escape to "Granny and Gram-pa's" house. During the summer months I spent what seemed like the entire summer hanging out with Granny, going fishing, going to visit her sister Aunt Gladys, attending funerals or nursing an ailing family member. I loved going with her to visit her sister because once we left Salisaw and started driving through the hills on our way to Nicut the stories would begin. We would pass the rolling meadows, "That's where your Granny would leap over the fences like a gazelle" or "See that creek there, and those old sheds... that's where your Gram-pa lived". The stories would often be animated with am "O Dad!" from Granny.
My granny and gram-pa, they had come so far, yet if you listened to them they really never left "the hills". When my granny greeted you it was with an exuberant  "Howdy Howdy Howdy" She was such a friendly sort. She was also one who sized you up right fast. Some she trusted and others she'd tell me "that one would stab you in the back and smile at cha' while doin' it." I don't recall her telling me that particular phrase but two times. I don't recall exactly who she was talking about but I remember she was talking about a man.

"We Bought a Zoo" ~ Brings Tears and Memories

Last night I took my son and his best friend to the movies. The boys went to see Sherlock Holmes and I decided that I wanted to see "We bought a zoo". I really should know better than to go see a movie with out checking it out... Please don't get me wrong. It is a good movie. Great story. Only trouble is it was a story to close to home.
Benjamin Mee was a widower with two children. This movie was about their struggles to overcome the broken hearts. Here I am writing about it and I'm tearing up already.
My husband in 1999 after a grand mal seizure on the 31st of March was diagnosed with esophageal carcinoma  (cancer) It was bad. We had a 9 month old and a 6 year old. Four months later he died.
I have not remarried, and I have not had a date. I don't desire to grow old with out a mate but at this point that's the path that I've had for the last 12 years.  I have felt that my first obligation was to my children. My daughter Joyce will turn 18 in just another month. It would be a scary time but she is a strong woman in her own right.
Back to the movie... Benjamin was hurting because his best friend was taken away. The kids were hurting because they missed their mom. Watching and I guess listening to him verbalize his heartache made mine break all over again. Yes, that's what it's like to loose your best friend, your soul mate, the one who completes who you are. I think in some ways he was lucky because he stepped out of his comfort zone in order to heal the gaping wounds.
As I said in my first post I was going to try and examine my life so here is my first truth.
I'm scared to do it on my own. I don't like being alone, never have. I choose to live with my parents after my husband died because of two reasons. First, I could not stand being at home alone, with the kids. It just seemed when darkness arrived all the memories came flooding back and my heartache would be so painful. Second, I was trying to think logically, I felt like I needed some accountability. Plus I'd rather have help raising my kids. My parents were beyond wonderful, and my daddy was my rock. I do need to qualify that with out my faith in my Lord and Savior Christ Jesus, I'd have hid my head under a pillow and never attempted to live life. I truly believe God placed me in a situation so that I could see his handy work in my life and know the paths he desired for me to take.
I have some more reflecting to do on this matter but it is time I got ready for church.

Endeavoring to Capture that Tenacious Spirit

I have to wonder sometimes how my Granny survived. She was born in 1912, she would have been 100 years old this year. I remember her stories about the life she lived as a small girl. I have no real concept of what poor really is, to be quite honest I don't think any of us living in this era have a clue to the life my granny lived ~ she lived poor.
In this blog I will endeavor to strive to be more like my Granny. I am going to try and capture her tenacious spirit and apply it to my life. I will examine my shortcomings and search my memory to recall how my Granny overcame the hurdles in her life, and survived. This may not be the easiest thing I've ever written but I hope it will be the most helpful.