You can never be too careful these days. Or can we?
Be too careful, I mean.
Staff and administrators at Aurora Christian Schools arrived Monday morning to start their week only to find an old washing machine, spray-painted with graffiti, abandoned in the parking lot on the high school’s side of the building on Sullivan Road.
Which led to a visit from the Aurora Police Department and Kane County Bomb Squad and an unexpected get-out-of-school card for the students.
Turned out the unidentified sitting object was harmless. Filled with nothing but concrete.
Overkill, some would say.
But Aurora Christian officials felt they could take no chances. Especially these days.
After all, AC is a conservative private school. And as several parents pointed out to me, a couple days before what many believe is the most critical election of our lifetimes, this washing machine could have been the work of someone making a statement against the candidate with a significant evangelical following.
If that sounds too paranoid, think about your own feelings.
Emotions are running high these days. Lots of people have complained about political anger and election angst, to the point it has impacted relationships, sleep, work and mental health.
Just consider the level of animosity you have against the other side. Think about all the conspiracy theories floating around right now and how many you personally buy into.
Paranoia and hatred have been growing in this country for years now. More than ever it seems venom has taken over too many of our conversations, even those that don’t start out political.
And as much as I’d like to think it will all be washed away Wednesday morning, I’m not counting on it. Which is why I was so surprised that I finally found a much-needed reprieve from this on Tuesday.
Election Day.
Not because I vowed to avoid the 24-hour news cycle and constant barrage of political ads and headlines popping up on my phone. I started doing that weeks ago.
No, I finally felt calm after driving to my polling place, walking inside the building and casting my vote alongside dozens of other “neighbors” who had shown up to do the same thing.
I use quotes around that word because I did not know a single person in the auditorium of the church, but you would never know that from the friendly faces or warm gestures that greeted me at every turn.
I saw folks holding the doors open for others, giving up their places in line for those who were older or had some walking difficulties.
I heard lots of sincere hellos, witnessed many smiles – the biggest ones from those volunteering their time to make sure this process was running smoothly.
“Thank you for taking the time to vote,” they would say, no doubt delighted to be part of such a critical cog in our nation’s complex relationship with that thing called democracy.
How could anyone not smile back?
Or express gratitude to them for giving up their day to make mine go smoothly.
“There’s no place else I’d rather be,” said the elderly Black man, sitting behind the access code table and next to a smiling white Gen-Zer, so fresh-faced he could have been voting in his first election.
“Nowhere else?” I questioned, drawn in by a twinkle in the older man’s eye.
“Not even on an island in the Caribbean with a cold fruit drink in my hand,” he replied.
Then he winked. And I let his cheerfulness, his optimism wash over me.
I know this sudden feeling of tranquility is not likely to last. If all those opinion pieces and polls are to be believed, Tuesday was likely the eye of the storm.
But for the first time since this 2024 presidential campaign kicked into high gear, I felt my anxiety lift.
And as I drove home I made the decision not to watch the election results as they came in throughout the evening. For one more night, I chose to take a break from the drama, the hysteria, the paranoia, the hatred that has divided us and made abandoned washing machines a legitimate reason to call in a bomb squad.
Truth is, I worry a lot about what kind of a country we are leaving our kids and our grandkids who have to deal with so many potential landmines in their young and not-so-innocent lives.
But for at least a little while longer I will relish the calming words I heard from a proud and patriotic Election Day volunteer.
“There’s no place else I’d rather be.”
dcrosby@tribpub.com
