Let me tell you a true story. I had two wonderful Grandmothers. One was born in 1895 and the other in 1900. Very smart, calm, quiet ladies, true steel blue violets (violets are the state flower of New Jersey). I went to see both of them shortly before I went back to college in September 1972–in the middle of an election. I arrived at Grandma’s house (the older of the two) one afternoon. It was hot, so we took some pineapple juice and went and sat down in the porch to chat.

We talked about family, what I classes I was taking, who I was rooming with and so on. The she said that there was something important she wanted to tell me. “You’re going to be able to vote this year, and I expect you to vote. Not just then, but every time you can for the rest of your life.” I think I looked puzzled because I had never thought about not voting. Everyone I knew voted in all the elections. She went on. “Remember, when I was your age I wasn’t allowed to vote. Your Grandpa could, my father and all five of my brothers could, but my mother and I could’t. That. Was. Not. Right. I’ve made certain that your Aunts vote, and I expect you to so as well. I can’t tell you how bad it feels not to be able to vote.” There was a look in her eyes that told me she meant it!

A couple of days later I went to see my other Grandma. It had cooled down a bit, so she made some tea and her fantastic poundcake and we sat at the table talking. We covered much of the same things, plus she gave me her recipe for ruggelach (fantastic!) Then she said, “You’re going to be able to vote this year. That was one of the best days of my life! My mother and my older sister couldn’t vote until 1920. Obviously I’m younger, and I didn’t have to wait. When you go into the booth to write in your ballot, no one–NO ONE–can tell you what to do. I made sure that your mother understands how important that is and I expect you will always vote–for everything–from president to dog catcher. Now, let’s have some more tea.” See a variations on a theme? I got home and went to find my mother.

Now, I should tell you that I vividly remember going with my mother to vote when I was four. Later, my parents and all my friends’ parents, voted at the gym in our school. And in those days kids were in school on Election Day, so we could understand what our parents were doing. Mom was working upstairs so I plopped down on a chair and waited for her to finish the line of braille she was working on (my mother is a braillest.) I asked her what was the deal with voting–both grandmothers were way more steel than violet! That got a laugh. The gist of her comments were that they both wanted me be sure not to take voting for granted. And then she added that I should remember that my great grandparents had come to the US from countries where NO ONE could vote. She turned back to work with her loveliest smile and the words “I expect you to vote all the time. Otherwise I your grandmothers will haunt you forever–and I might too!”

Well, what goes around comes around, and when my own children where little I took them to vote with me as well. They’ve heard what their great-grandmothers said to me, and I’ve added that their grandfathers and uncles didn’t slog from Iwo Jima to the Battle of the Bulge for members of their family to stay home. The kids “all grown up” now, and I was speaking with both of them today. One’s already voted and the other will vote on Election Day itself. Well done! Of course, if they didn’t, I might have to haunt them myself. 👻