I did my Arizona civic duty today by voting early and in person and was pleasantly surprised to see others doing the same – many others. What I expected to be a quick trip to City Hall turned into a long but worthwhile effort to cast my ballot in my thirteenth consecutive Presidential election – the first being in 1976 (my guy, Gerald Ford, lost).

I had initially planned on voting by mail, but after receiving my ballot on October 14, 2024 (Arizona ballots started to be delivered on October 9), I proceeded to wreck mine by using a black marker—a rookie mistake. So, with my damaged ballot in hand, I drove to Surprise, Arizona’s city hall, to cast my vote for the 47th American president.

Upon arrival, I was shocked to find no open parking spaces and a line of cars parked on the street. Fortunately, I lucked out and found someone pulling out right before me, so I didn’t have to wait long (or walk far). All around me, a steady stream of other civic-minded citizens hiked through the packed parking lot and into the stately building clearly marked with VOTE HERE signs. Seeing all those people, many with green voter envelopes in hand, gave me a sense of pride. After all, there is little more patriotic than fulfilling the duty (and right) to vote.

Inside, the scene was even more hectic. People were lined up inside and out, all waiting to do the deed. I saw people of all ages, races, genders, and (apparent) economic groups. The atmosphere was surprisingly upbeat. I’m used to hearing people grumble and gripe when they have to stand in line for anything. Here, the talk was cheerful and friendly, with many commenting on the turnout. I took the opportunity to chat with several fellow voters.

Carlos is a retired steel worker from Ohio who moved to Arizona in 2007. He was in line with his wife, Donnalee. I asked them for their thoughts on the turnout. Donnalee stated that she was surprised. She said, “I expected a higher turnout, but nothing like this.” When I probed a little more, she stated, “The economy is so bad, I don’t think people can afford not to vote,” adding, “Carlos had to go back to work part time just to cover our expenses.”

Carlos told me that he had been returned for seventeen years but couldn’t afford to live “in Biden’s America.” He added, “I’m voting for Trump. I’ve never voted for a Republican before, but I’m done with the Democrats. I can’t afford them anymore.”

Anthony, a twenty-something out-of-work software engineer, chimed in that he had massive college debt. He graduated from ASU but stated that even with a partial scholarship, he had “five-digits” worth of debt with no way to pay it back. He said that he fully backed Trump. I asked about the promise of student debt relief, and his response was blunt. “I don’t believe it.”

The pleasant conversation helped pass the time, and within about twenty minutes, I entered the “voting room.” Portable voting tables with cardboard dividers formed neat rows, filling the space. A pleasant, elderly woman escorted me to a line of eight or so computer monitors lining the wall.

“Please take out your ID,” she announced to all who could hear. She continued, “Please scan the back of your license or ID card and follow the prompts on the screen. You’ll need to keep them out until we check them.”

I was pleasantly surprised to see that they were taking voting security seriously. I asked her if it had been this crowded all day. She replied, “This is nothing. yesterday was even worse. They were lined up around the building!”

I told her I had mismarked my ballot and wanted to get a clean one. She nodded and ushered me to a line with other in-person voters. “No worries. They’ll take care of you,” she stated sweetly. I thanked her for helping me and stepped over to the ballot line. Within a matter of minutes, I heard someone calling my name. I walked over to the volunteer and repeated my sad tale of ballot destruction. She also smiled and told me not to worry, assuring me I wasn’t the only one.

“Just make sure not to mix up the ballots, and don’t submit both or your vote won’t be counted,” she advised.

I assured her I wouldn’t and commented that I was pleased about the turnout. She said, “I’ve worked as a polling place aid for twelve years, and I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s wild.”

I asked if she had any insights into other people’s reactions. She said, “You know I can’t talk about that. But it is amazing.” I agreed.

I took my new ballot over to one of the shiny voting booths, marked my ballot, and, within a short time, dropped it into the security box.

“Thanks for voting,” came the reply from the woman standing “guard” over the dropbox. Forty minutes later, I was heading back to my car with my “I Voted” sticker proudly displayed on my black cowboy hat. The parking lot was still packed full, and people continued to stream in. There is clearly something afoot. I’m not sure what is driving the massive uptick in voting activity. Whatever the reason, it’s a great day to be an American.