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They voted up the street at the Greenhalge School. Dad would come home and we would have supper then pile into the Buick and drive up to the school. We had to park in the parking lot and walk into the front door. I just loved it. Candidates would be out there with signs; supporters would line the sidewalk forcing people to “walk the gauntlet”. I just loved it. Supporters would thrust little cardboard handouts into my hand as I walked with my parents into the school. Once into the school they would check in and then go to the booth to vote. I remember it had a curtain you could pull so that no one could see what you were doing. I really didn’t understand what voting was at that time but I figured it had to be pretty important if it was so special you got to hide behind a curtain to do it. While my parents voted I would sit on the floor out side the curtain and look over my collected booty of cards. They were from all types of candidates running for political office. I didn’t even know what political office was but I sure was impressed by the cards. After my parents voted I remember we would take the shortcut back to the car and avoid the gauntlet of people who remained on the sidewalk hawking votes for their candidates. That’s where it all started. I still get that same rush when I go to vote. I remember one year, the former two-time mayor, Robert Kennedy was running for Governor’s Council. It was snowing and nasty out, but I promised I would go out to vote for him. Bobby and my dad worked together at Lowell Gas for a number of years. In fact my first foray into politics happened when my dad came home with something called nomination papers. I think I was about 12. He told me to take the papers and a pen and walk around the neighborhood to get “signatures”. Remember, he said; “the people who sign this have to be 18 and they have to be registered voters, ok”? Ok I said, and trekked of to get my signatures. Bobby won the seat that year. I felt pretty special. I went to vote in the snow that night for Bobby, he was running against a guy who was on the Governor’s Council for a number of years. Herb Connelly was his name. Herb was so sure he was going to beat Bobby that he and his wife took off and went to Florida to celebrate his win. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that ole’ Herb and the Missus forgot to vote. When the ballots were counted that night Herb didn’t do so good. The point spread was 1 vote. Bobby Kennedy asked for a recount. Wow a recount, this my friends is local politics at its best. The brightest and most committed people came out to help Bobby Kennedy with his recount. I got to meet City Councilor Rita Mercier for the first time as well as Dick Howe, who is now the Middlesex Registrar of Deeds. I also got to meet a brilliant attorney who was representing Bobby, Arthur Sullivan. Like I said, some of the best and brightest and certainly the most committed. When we met at the auditorium there were probably 100 of us. We were all going to assist with the recount. I don’t think Connelly’s people knew what hit them. We got instructions from Arthur Sullivan and I took them very seriously. So seriously that I think to this day Dick Howe, Jr. wished he got to work with someone else the night I almost started the riot. See we were told that in order to stand next to the table and have the right to challenge a ballot we had to have a permission letter from the candidate we represented, it had to be signed by him. Each paper had to be original. I knew I was holding an original but the two goons representing Connelly had copies. Well I objected, they weren’t happy. I remember waving over Dick Howe, yeah he got stuck with me, and telling him I was objecting. Well we finally settled and the goons got to stay. Then there was the jockeying for a spot closest to the commissioner counting the ballots. Did I mention the goons were huge, I mean really huge. They took up the entire front of the table while I tried to worm my way in. I had to object again. Dick wasn’t too happy with me. But man this was democracy in action. I got my spot at the table because I kept nudging my way in. It was the first time I saw a paper ballot. Bobby Kennedy won that election by a couple of votes. I bet Herb wished he never went to Florida. I remember the day I turned 18. I got up, got ready and went right to city hall. Remember when you actually had to raise your right hand and take an oath to vote. I remember raising my hand. I don’t even remember the oath, I was so nervous by this enormous undertaking. Maybe we should go back to that, impress upon people how important it is. The Bobby Kennedy recount taught me never to forget an election. So just how do we reproduce that feeling in people. How do we get the potatoes off the couch and to the ballot box? I don’t have all the answers, just lots of questions. I think part of the answer is school. Remember public school, the greatest American achievement. I really do believe that. Maybe we spend more time helping kids to understand the importance of elections. Maybe we put polling places in High Schools so teachers and 18-year-old kids can vote? Maybe we give tax incentives? Maybe we make sure that there are more people who are less disenfranchised and understand the importance of their vote? What ever it is people, exercise your right, the right that men fought for and women supported. The right that people have died for in countries across the world. The right where people openly display their purple finger even in the face of death. Then I will listen gleefully as you complain that your candidate didn’t win or that taxes are too high. Vote. Complain. It’s the American way. Regina Faticante is a member of the Lowell School Committee and is the host of the "Afternoon Live" Radio Program on WCAP/980AM in Lowell, Monday through Friday, from 3-6pm *Send your questions
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When I was a little girl I remember
when my mother and father would bring me to vote with
them.