From a reader in San Diego:
Greetings. I’m taking a second from continuously hitting refresh on The Corner to report a depressing voting experience. No NBPP members with billy clubs promising to get black to me later. But after the voter in front of me gave her name, signed in and verbally confirmed the street she lived on, she was cleared to vote. She paused and asked the lovely woman sitting behind the desk, “I’m sorry, I just have to ask, how do you know that I am who I say I am?” The woman responded, “I don’t, but I’m not allowed to ask for ID.” She then went on to explain that if the voter insisted, she could show her ID. Sigh!