“I don’t want to vote!” cried Vito, growing into hysterics as veteran vote-puller Brian McGrath urged him to go to the polls in a hot Westville race. “Put your coat on,” commanded McGrath.
Vito didn’t have a choice. Not with McGrath, who was determined to drag everyone to the polls — even those whose mental difficulties made voting a very tough task, prompting polling staff to question if they understood what they were doing.
McGrath, the former city traffic czar, never misses a chance to pull votes for the Democratic party establishment. Tuesday, his seasoned skills were requested in Westville’s Ward 25, where Democratic Alderwoman Ina Silverman was facing a spirited challenge by Republican Tom Malone. (She ended up beating him 648 – 484 on the machines.)
McGrath (pictured above at right) spent most of the day knocking on doors in two apartment buildings, 200 and 226 Fountain St., home to elderly and disabled residents.
When this reporter found McGrath, he was down at the bottom of the elevator with his right-hand man, Stan Saxe (pictured above at left). “Uncle Stan,” who lives at 226 Fountain St., was the key to getting access to the building of 65 apartments — access newbie contenders don’t usually figure out how to get.
“We lost our client!” cried Saxe. They had been moments away from bringing another voter to McGrath’s Jeep when the “client,” who was a bit mentally handicapped, slipped away.
He wasn’t on the first floor. He wasn’t on the parking lot. The duo gave up, and continued on their door-knocking way.
Upstairs, they asked for a man on the voting list named Vito. Wearing a bright athletic shirt and a keychain around his neck, Vito came to the door. Had he voted yet?
“I don’t want to vote!” cried Vito, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He scratched his head and looked at the visitors’ feet. “Vote vote!”
“You’re on the list.”
Clearly rattled by the visitors’ requests, and suffering from some mental difficulties, he grew agitated, letting out a sustained, high-pitched squeal.
“It’s easy,” said McGrath.
Vito appeared torn between two minds, alternating between “I’m not voting” and a refrain of “vote vote vote.” The young man rocked violently, letting out more screams.
“Put on your coat — We’ll come back for you,” said McGrath, continuing on his way. The man’s cries echoed down the corridor.
“I’ve never seen him like this before,” said Saxe, who lives across the hall.
“That’s because you never pressed him,” replied McGrath.
To the vote-pullers’ surprise, Vito heeded the order. He reappeared, with coat on, ready to go to the polls.
“I’ve never voted before,” said Vito, now quieted down, eager for the trip. “Do I have to pay?”
No, replied McGrath, you just fill out the bubbles.
Trouble With The Bubbles
McGrath’s Jeep, emblazoned with DeStefano and Lieberman stickers, set off for the Edgewood School, where the cafeteria was abuzz with voting activity.
Covering up his “Ina Silverman” sticker with his hat, Uncle Stan walked Vito past the cookies into the voting room. He helped him sign in, and escorted him to the booth where he was to fill out the voting form.
Uncle Stan stood over Vito’s shoulder, ready to help.
Someone spotted him and complained.
Did Vito want Uncle Stan’s help? “No,” came the reply.
Uncle Stan got booted. In his absence, Vito struggled with the task of filling out the bubbles — only one candidate in each category can be voted for. The new optical scan machine accepts only correctly filled out voting sheets, where the bubbles are filled in properly and no one votes for two candidates in any one category.
The machine spit Vito’s answers back out. Moderators told him to go back to the booth. Vito moved erratically, taking unpredictable, circuitous routes between the booth and the machine.
Vito tried again. And again. On about the fourth try, he got the bubbles right.
“There’s no limit” to the number of ballots a person can fill out if the first ones aren’t correct, noted Brian Green, the Republican assistant registrar.
But Green questioned if the man knew what he was doing. Vito was “right at the line of being mentally capable” to vote, said Green, speaking in his personal, not official capacity. Green, who said he worked for years at a school with autistic children, remarked that Vito showed “serious autistic behavior.”
McGrath gave Vito an apple and took him back home.
Asked whom he voted for, Vito said, “John DeStefano and … “ He couldn’t remember the rest.
“Bottom-Feeding”?
Back at the apartment building, the Dems found their lost charge, William. “Where did you go?” asked McGrath.
“Computer room,” replied William, a young, heavyset man, in a speedy monotone.
William, who entered the booth alone, had the same trouble with the bubbles. Ballot after ballot was spit back out. One had vertical votes, for all three mayoral candidates. On another, he appeared to have filled out five of the seven bubbles.
“He’s just like the other one!” cried a frustrated poll staffer.
“There is obviously a problem with a political organization that is doing what I call political bottom-feeding,” grumbled Green. “They’re obviously playing it right to the end.”
“He can kiss my ass,” McGrath later retorted. “He’s calling our voters what? Our voters are bottom-feeders?” If Vito and William had trouble at the polls, “that’s the moderator’s fault for not giving good directions.”
State law says “no mentally incompetent person shall be admitted as an elector.” Who’s to say his charges weren’t of sound of mind? asked McGrath; one even has a day job at a Chili’s restaurant.
“If he could fill out the bubbles,” reasoned McGrath, “he could vote.”