Someone who knows me well enough to suspect that my freewheeling lifestyle could (or should) accommodate direct civil service suggested that I apply to be an Election Inspector. Being susceptible to suggestions made by people I respect and who put up with my many layers of nonsense, I applied.
A week or two after I completed the application, I received an email telling me “Poll Worker Application Approved – Create Your Worker Portal.” I went to the online portal and created my profile. Once in the portal, I could choose an in-person training date to prepare for the April 7 election.
Election Inspector Training: “Help People Vote”
I took the training at the City of Milwaukee Election Operation Center at 1901 S. Kinnickinnic Ave.. It was a three-hour course, but it could have easily been an all-day affair. We were given an Election Day Manual to serve as our election day bible, which we reviewed briefly during training and then studied intently at home. Our leader answered questions clearly and comprehensively, and there were many questions from thirty-ish Milwaukeeans of various ages and backgrounds. While understanding and internalizing the entire Election Day Manual would take serious reps, our instructor reminded us that we’d be able to lean on the Chief Inspector at our Election Day sites, along with other experienced Election Inspectors.
I will not dig into the details covered in the training nor the contents of the Election Day Manual; however, if you are interested in learning more about the process of becoming an Election Inspector, you can learn more here. We were told to plan ahead and vote early, as we would likely be tied to our Election Inspector role all day on April 7.
Election Day: 15 Hours Of Non-Stop Democratic Process
Before my 5 a.m. alarm, I wake up. Hoping to prevent my wife and our dog from also waking, I move quietly. At this ungodly hour, like Yoda, I think. Our dog Peter ignores my weak Jedi mind and arises with me, expecting the usual opportunity to go outside followed by his breakfast. I take him out, feed him and get myself ready to represent my city as an Election Inspector on Election Day.
My Uber is on time. The friendly Milwaukee-area IT expert and photographer politely endures my nervous chatter and drives me to the election site. Two people are waiting outside and as I exit the Uber, we are let in immediately at 5:55 a.m. I have signed up for a full shift, from 6 a.m. – 9 p.m. I have no idea what I am in for. This is my first time as an Election Inspector.
In the spirit of my 15 hours as an Election Inspector, here are 15 observations from my experience.*
*All of the words in this story are my own opinions and observations, none of which represent the opinions of anyone else involved in the Election Inspection process on any level.
1. Chief Inspectors are truly the bosses
Our Chief kindly delegates duties to the crew of eight Election Inspectors, all of whom (excepting me) appear to have worked together previously, at this site. Everyone gets to work hanging signs, setting up booths, unpacking boxes of election materials, and setting up tables. The Chief tabs me to help set up signs outside.
2. This crew of Election Inspectors know its stuff
The seven veterans of past elections make quick work of the setup, ensuring accessible pathways for voters and efficiently orienting the welcome table and tables for each ward. Well before polls open at 7 a.m., everyone is in position and ready for the first vote to be cast.
3. “Hear ye, hear ye, the polls are now open!”
The Chief Inspector really says this, and the polls are open! I ride shotgun with the Registrar, welcoming voters at the entrance. I learn to ask: “Do you know what ward you’re in?” If people are unsure, I simply ask for their address and check on MyVoteWisconsin to determine which ward.
4. “Back then, teachers could hit kids.”
My Election Inspector is serving at the site of her childhood school. Kids pass by our open door, shoelaces untied, playfully shoving each other. “That’s dangerous,” my experienced Inspector gasps. She wonders aloud how teachers in her day would’ve managed the morning ragamuffins. “My teacher had a yard stick…” Despite the harsh memory of corporal punishment for young students, the presence of children in the midst of their normal school day makes the election feel somehow less bureaucratic and more optimistic. Speaking of…
5. Who said don’t look back? Don’t believe ‘em.
Children’s books about American history and civics are within reach at my poll site. I can’t resist reading a few as folks slowly trickle in to vote. Looking back at “simpler times” often means squinting through the harsh glare of child abuse, not to mention the exclusion from authentic civic discourse of all people not white male adult. I find it appropriate on Election Day to look back at people who opened doors long closed. I am heartened by the books available to young readers, some of which highlight the meaningful contributions of not often heralded Americans.
6. Election Receivers are the main characters
If you’ve ever voted (please keep voting), you know the drill: say your name and address aloud, and watch two humans find your name in two separate, side-by-side binders. I always wondered why they both have to find you and check off your name. Turns out this is just one of many checks and balances to ensure that only registered voters in their proper ward, at their proper address, with proper ID can vote, and vote just once. Incredible with all the shouting over the last five years about election fraud…just try voting in the wrong place with the wrong name, wrong address, and/or invalid ID. It ain’t happening. One person, one ballot, one vote.
7. “Why are they not voting? No excuse. Get your butts out there.”
One of the experienced Election Receivers makes this comment as quiet kicks in around 10 a.m. An audible angst spreads throughout the room in response to the number of people voting—or more accurately, the number of people not voting. “Where’s the Man In Brown?” asks one of our Inspectors to agreeing nods and friendly laughter. “He’s voted every year I’ve been here. Haven’t seen him yet.”
Speculation is that the total number of votes cast by 8 p.m. may be lower than optimal, but we hope for high numbers. In a country full of big mouths and no guts, it continues to astonish how few people actually exercise their right to vote. In the 2024 presidential election only 65.3% voted, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. Holy smokes, one third of America: “Get your butts out there!”
8. Snacks are key to 15 hours of nonstop democracy
I pass up most of the food in the photos, but an Election Inspector’s Easter Sunday homemade pineapple cheesecake is delicious. I discover a spare Sweet ‘N’ Sour sauce and dip my brought-from-home grilled chicken and crackers in it, un-ironically. Nine more hours of sitting means I will need to conjure as many reasons to get up and walk as possible.
9. People who vote enjoy democracy
Sounds simple, but my observation of people arriving to cast a ballot in an election that features just one contested race appear glad and gracious to take part in the whole process. These voters are patient with newbies like myself and offer to restate their names and share their IDs multiple times to ensure proper election procedure is followed. Easy to say when it’s not a hotly contested presidential election, when I’m sure people get amped in all sorts of unpredictable ways. But for this particular election, at this particular site, people seem proud and untroubled to be participating.
10. However:
Some people who live literally across the street from our election site are redirected to a location several blocks away. Amazingly, the people for whom this is a reality react kindly and quickly exit to vote at their designated site. This is weird, considering their address is actually on the same exact block as our election site. Redistricting can be fraught with ugly words like gerrymandering and red-lining, but it’s a real thing and its consequences are often baffling, if not Kafkaesque.
11. Teamwork, dreamwork, etc.
This is a tightly knit group that communicates well with each other and has obviously worked as a team before. They are all constantly looking out for each other and working together to make sure everything is done properly. Several Election Inspectors tell me about past years when they brought a full spread of fruit, meals, and desserts. During lulls they tell stories about school days, past elections, favorite foods, and the Man In Brown. They wait for the Man In Brown. A continuing series of kindhearted jokes are made among people in the room who find him particularly interesting. “He’s buff,” an Election Inspector comments. In smaller wards, Election Inspectors recognize many voters and the experience can feel like a neighborhood reunion or a block party. Diversity helps. Cynicism is not welcome here.
12. Don’t drink the water, and a hot air dryer that can count
Anyone subjected to my prolonged presence knows two truths: I don’t sit well, and I constantly drink water. This duo leads to loads of self-perpetuating, self-fulfilling prophecies (or something), leading to lots of walks. In the on-site restroom, I discover two other things: we can’t drink the water, and the hot air dryer is obsessed with numerology, or is perhaps a modern sun dial of sorts. In the morning, the hot air dryer takes three pushes to properly activate. By mid-afternoon the hot air dryer is only responsive at four pumps. And (I’m not making this up, why would I?), after 5 p.m. it takes five hits. Yep, hydration leads to unusual discoveries in science and mysticism.
13. An Election Day miracle
Moments before polls close at 8 p.m., the pining for the Man In Brown reaches a fever pitch. With no footsteps of voters lurking in the hallway and the clock running out of minutes prior to 8, experienced Election Inspectors speculate why he’s not arrived. Maybe work wouldn’t turn him loose. Maybe he moved.
Lo and behold, the Man In Brown, an illustrious smile on his face, an ’80s-era Bono hat pulled handsomely over his fantastically rocking long hair, enters. “Can I still vote,” he asks, a winning, forgive-my-late arrival smile on his face.
He is astonishingly handsome with a rockstar swagger. The Man In Brown casts his ballot and our Chief Inspector immediately rings out: “Hear ye, hear ye, the polls are now closed!” The Man In Brown is literally the last person to vote. He mentions his boss wasn’t going to let him go, but he made it anyway. Every single Election Inspector cheers, and I raise both arms to the voting heavens, extolling our democratic angels to cheer. It’s emotional and awesome.
14. I was dumb to write-in Nolan Cromwell
As we clean up and begin the strictly ordered system for packing up all of the election materials, I realize that a drama-free day is ideal for democracy. Our crew gets down to the business of reconciling the books whilst getting down to some Daddy Yankee for 15-hour energy. Election Inspectors review each and every ballot for accuracy, commenting on the number of write-in votes, each of which must be reported separately.
I immediately feel sheepish for my younger, some would say stupider self, the one who wrote-in Cory Breger, myself, and Green Bay Packer Special Teams Coach Nolan Cromwell, among others. Gosh, I was proud of myself in 1996. I was proven correct with the Desmond Howard Super Bowl MVP culmination in January of 1997, but some worn-out Election Inspector had to specifically itemize my decision to turn a ballot into sport.
15. Oh say, can you see?
Francis Scott Key wrote “The Star-Spangled Banner” during the war of 1812, the last time a war was fought with an invading country within the United States of America. My Dad taught me a great many things, but perhaps none greater than to pay attention to details, such as punctuation in the “The Star-Spangled Banner”: several verses of Key’s song end not with a period or exclamation point, they end with a question mark. Question mark after question mark.
If wondering if the United States of America itself was still there was a question during 1812, that question remains unanswered in 2026. The best answer to the question of whether or not democracy still waves “o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?” VOTE.
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