The following letter was written on Nov. 2, 2021.
Re: Voter Shock!
Today is Watertown Election Day, and as a civic minded individual, resident in the City known as the Town of Watertown, I did not linger in bed until my usual hour of 7:30 a.m., but rose to prepare to exercise my duty. I voted and believe that I have recovered sufficiently from my shock, that I may now share with you my experience.
Things you should know:
· Watertown once included the towns of Weston, Waltham and large portions of Lincoln, Belmont, and Cambridge.
· Today, it is only ca. 4 square miles in size and has a population of 35, 329, perhaps one of the most diverse in Greater Boston, and a mere 20 minutes from Boston’s Logan International Airport.
· Because of the anxiety caused by the Big Lie of voter fraud, my blood pressure was highly elevated: 132/78!
· I anticipated at the polling place assigned to me—there are many throughout the town—long lines and the presence of members of the National Guard, State Troopers and Watertown’s PD, whose role would be to keep the peace. You see, there were 4 individuals vying for 3 seats on the town’s School Committee. When I arrived no officer in uniform was to be seen. I learned subsequently, that the Watertown PD was managing a traffic snafu on the town’s major thoroughfare near the Watertown-Cambridge line.
· To provide proof of my insignificant person, I went armed with my driver’s license, my Medicare ID, my vaccination card—fully vaccinated with Moderna, and the printout of my pending appointment for the booster shot on Monday, 8 November, at 2:45p.m., and my Minuteman Library Card, in case someone wanted to check for overdue books or delinquent fines. I felt this necessary, as I was wearing a mask, as was everyone else, whom I encountered.
· My shock: no lines whatsoever, no uniformed officers — just a pleasant group of women in the hallway who were selling assorted bake goods to raise money for some cause or other — no signature required, just my name and address; and an elderly woman of my generation who flirted with me, when I gave her my full name. “What a regal name,” said she! She has my name and address! I voted without further incident.
When after ca. 15 minutes I exited the attractive modern, pleasant Middle School, just up a bit from the town’s equally inviting Free Library outfitted with everything technical, meeting rooms at the disposal of individuals and groups in town, the sky displayed those fluffy white clouds in a bright blue sky, and I wondered whether I had had an experience in another dimension, and certainly not one described in our national media. Now my blood pressure will rise again, because I will fret that others cannot share a similar experience?
Clarence E. Butler