On Election Day, I went to my polling place just before 6:30 am as has been my habit. As usual, I saw friends and neighbors at every turn.

In line already, a friend with whom I’ve shared leadership responsibilities in Scouting, and a neighbor whom I had not seen for a while, a local business executive.

The three of us talked outside waiting for 6:30 to come, about youth leadership activities in our community, and the hope they give us. Friends and neighbors, talking about what unites us.

Then the door rattled, and the election worker unlocking it? A member of our local school board, an old friend and co-worker. We walked on in to the area where voting began, and the greeter? A neighbor with whom I worked years ago to launch a still operating community non-profit. Friends and neighbors.

Our line, now a dozen of us to get things started, was directed by another friend, a business owner in the village, this morning a poll-worker. We scattered to the ID check stations and registrars, and at the table I saw a retired colleague of my spouse’s, and another someone I had dinner with the night before at a service club meeting. Friends and neighbors all along the tables.

Once processed through, I went to the voting machine and slid in my ballot, clicking through the page images. Again and again: friends and neighbors, on the ballot. People I knew, people I had worked with. Almost every name a person I knew not from television or social media, but by face and familiarity.

Friends and neighbors, all around in a local election. We will plunge into a midterm debate soon for 2026 and all the national or state issues that catch wider attention. But the heart of democracy? Friends and neighbors, both running for offices, and making the process work. People we know, people we will work with whether they win an election or not.

Friends and neighbors.

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