Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Like most every other day, this morning I awoke at the crack of dawn.
Unlike every other morning, today I dressed before stumbling down to assemble a cup of coffee which, this morning unlike those others, was poured into an insulated Elvis travel mug (actually purchased at the Graceland gift shop) in preparation for the exercise of my constitutional responsibility.
Here, in this tiny rural Kentucky town, perched atop the rolling highlands on the western edge of the northernmost tip of the Commonwealth, I anticipated, as in previous elections, a fairly empty polling place but, as my brimming Elvis mug suggests, I left the house prepared for any contingency.
The drive to my poll is a longish cruise down a two-lane country road, which winds through some of the most beautiful farmland God ever placed upon this good Earth.
This morning, as I drove sipping coffee, humming the national anthem and saying prayers, the sun had not yet risen and the land was swathed in darkness.
I noticed what seemed to be an unusual amount of other automobiles in transit but, since I rarely leave the house so early, I had no comparison.
Arriving, eventually, at the polling place, located in the activity rooms of a hideously modern Catholic church, my wondering eyes saw, at 6:15am EST and 15 minutes after the poll had opened, a packed parking lot and a long line of enfranchised citizens.
Part of me was amazed while part wasn’t.
Since the Catholic Church defines a miracle as an event that defies statistical probability, and though unrecognized by the conniving established authority and the semi-blinded populace, I always viewed the last ill-fated and tied Presidential vote as some sort of higher power sign.
This poll, packed with quiet and polite Kentuckians, suggests to me that the higher powers have listened to my 4-year long prayer.
There was a certain particularly American resoluteness and strength within the early morning company of my fellow voters and a palpable sense that these last four years of darkness are concluding as history and all those who have preceded us would wish.
I voted a straight Democratic ticket and against the amendment to change Kentucky’s constitution to forbid non-traditional marriage.
As I drove home, with my “I voted” sticker affixed above my heart, the sun was rising, my eyes were wet but my heart was full of hope.
Image: Google images