Election Day 2008. I spent the morning taking my sons to school, running errands, going to appointments…your run-of-the-mill Tuesday when there’s simply not enough hours in the day to accomplish everything. I made my way to my parents’ house to drop my youngest son off for his Tuesdays with his grandparents, and I stopped by my car, staring out at the traffic on the street. Maybe it was my exhaustion, maybe I was being overwhelmed by my endless to-do’s, but I just couldn’t help staring at the cars passing by and becoming envious of all those drivers who, in my optimistic view, probably had more enjoyable things on their agendas than running a multitude of errands on yet another workday. However, because of the time of day, I did notice most drivers generally looked frustrated, annoyed, or at the very least, downright unhappy. Of course, I was likely projecting and probably misread many of them, but that attitude of negativity is something I always tried to avoid.
The first of those tasks on this lovely day was taking my beloved grandpa József to vote! He was a 94-year-old immigrant who came to this country less than 25 years prior, a man who made it his priority to make this country his own. Of course, he didn’t know the language, so his journey to learn started with writing down everything he heard in a well worn, dogeared little notebook, and proceeded to translate the unfamiliar words into his native Hungarian. He memorized everything, and then tried pronouncing those words that often sounded awkward as he struggled to expand his vocabulary. We tried not to laugh at his often contorted facial expressions as he attempted to pronounce some of the more challenging ones, but we couldn’t help but to laugh wildly when he encountered a couple of words that would become his verbal nemeses: “chipmunk” and worse yet, “squirrel”. He had such a good sense of humor that he’d always laugh along with us, all while repeating the words he was sure sounded exactly like how we said them, but they seemed to get worse at each attempt. His determination, however, was second-to-none. He took his citizenship exam some years prior and passed with flying colors…on his first try! Of course, it’s possible that the examiners were just impressed with his fortitude, and may have been a tad lenient toward him, but nevertheless, he knew all the answers to all the questions when we tested him before the formal examination, so we knew if he could make himself understood, he would pass. The culmination of his citizenship was registering to vote.
So here we were on election day. He voted in the last election, so he already knew what to expect. Grandpa was just determined to get his candidate elected. I helped him into my car, made sure he had his personal identification documents, and off we went. When we arrived at the local library, the location of the polling station, they checked his name on their list, and then his ID. That’s when it all went awry. He pulled out his state issued ID, and sure enough, it was expired! We asked if having his Passport would have helped, but they explained that it’s no longer admissible as a form of ID for the election board. I explained this to my grandpa, and he soon understood that he would not be able to cast a vote. Immediately, a shadow was cast over his previously cheery face. He was heartbroken.
I wasn’t the only one that noticed. The workers behind the tables tried to come to our rescue and explained that we can get his state issued ID renewed in a matter of minutes if we go down to the local Bureau of Motor Vehicles. So, off we went, straight to the BMV. When we were called to the counter, we were told that they would not be able to issue a new state ID since the current one was already expired. We should return with his Passport and Social Security card, and only then would they produce a new card. Poor grandpa was distraught once again. He looked at me with his expectant eyes, as if I could fix all these problems if I could just find someone to have sympathy on his predicament. However, in this world, sympathy isn’t enough. You need ID. I looked at my grandpa and assured him that he’d vote today…one way or another. I drove him home, and he quickly found his Social Security card and Passport, which was no little task. Once again, we were in the car, headed back to the BMV. By now, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson, but unfortunately, that was not the case. Thankfully, this time there were no lines at the BMV, so I walked straight up to the counter and plopped down the goods. The young clerk looked at his Social Security card, then the Passport. She leaned over to her supervisor, who was probably one of the miserable drivers that passed by my mom’s house that morning. She glanced at our documents. “His Passport is expired,” she announced with a rather snarky attitude. I explained that it hadn’t occurred to me to check the date, but sure enough, she was right. I looked at the two of them and explained that I was trying to get this done today because he really wants to vote! “Not today he won’t!” declared the supervisor, who was the embodiment of grumpiness as she turned her back to walk away. Now, I’m not an angry person, but I certainly had some unkind thoughts cross my mind at that moment. I leaned over to the young clerk and asked what our options were at this point. She remembered to mention that if he has his Naturalization papers, with his Social Security card, those would be sufficient for them to issue his new ID. When we left the building, we were both crushed. I had an appointment to go to, which would take some time, and would most likely prohibit me from being able to take care of all this. Once again, I drove grandpa back to his home.
He scurried into his house once again, trying to locate the documents, but in the 20 minutes I waited, had no success. I left with the most sinking feeling in my heart. Upon arriving at my appointment, my cell phone rang. It was grandpa….he found it! I could feel the excitement in his voice as he spoke those words with an obvious smile on his face. There was just one problem: I was stuck. My appointment took longer than anticipated, and by the time I got out, the BMV’s offices were closed. There was no answer when I called his house. I felt like I betrayed someone who placed such high hopes in my ability to help. On my way home, my eyes welled up in tears. Considering his age, I knew this may have been his last chance to vote in an election….and I failed him.
Once I returned home, I tried calling him again, but still no answer. I decided to get back into my car and drive to his home to check on him. I noticed the lights were on, so I knocked on his door. My aunt came to greet me and spoke as if nothing bad happened all day. I was surprised at how quickly he overcame his frustration at our earlier failures. I waited until grandpa left the room and then quietly asked my aunt about how he was dealing with being unable to vote today. She beamed as she turned to me, “Wait, you didn’t hear?” She proceeded to explain that she left her work early so she could vote, and when she heard about our saga, she dropped everything and took him to get his ID card, and then straight to the polls! He voted! When grandpa came back into the room, I exclaimed, “You voted?!” “Yes!” He laughed. “You said I’d vote no matter what, and I did!”
Ladies and gentlemen: That’s the definition of a grateful American citizen. He was thoroughly excited that he was able to do his part, and without a word of complaint! He was just content to have been able to participate in the process. For someone like grandpa, who fled a communist country, his freedom to vote in a democratic election didn’t feel like a burden, even if he’d have to jump some hoops to get there.
On my way home, I could only think one thing. The day was perfect…although I thoroughly wished I could have been there when he received his ID at the BMV. I’d loved to have had it in my hand and express to the unpleasant supervisor, “Despite your unwillingness to help, we’re going to the polls!”
Unexpected Journey 