Dear Reader,
In 1997, Norma and I were standing in the garage of the house we’d recently bought, out on 48th Avenue and Ortega in San Francisco, a foggy, flat, sea-washed landscape of mid-20th century row houses, bland, bleak, ordinary, but safe, inexpensive, and near the beach. 

So we’re standing there in our garage and this guy walked in. He just walked in and started looking around like he was interested in the merchandise—of which of course there was none. He looked around and said, “This would make a good polling place.” Then he introduced himself as an official in the San Francisco Department of Elections and gave us the pitch.
That's how we became poll workers in the 2000 Bush vs. Gore election. 

 

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