DeadLineDET_PrimaryElections2018 from Michael Lucido on Vimeo.
Top video by Michael Lucido features voters from Warren.
From Staff reports
Roads, car insurance, President Trump, the environement were on the minds of many Metro Detroit voters who trekked to the polls for Tuesday’s primary to select a governor, members of Congress and state lawmakers.
“I can’t afford a car” because of skyrocketing insurance rates, said Carol Johnson, who voted at Detroit’s Cass Tech High School. As for Trump, she added: “He’s the worst president we’ve ever had. He shouldn’t have run.”
James Gilbert, a poll worker at Cass, voted by absentee ballot and echoed similar sentiments.
“Car insurance is definitely a big one on my list.” Gilbert said. “My neighbor, she has a car that’s 19 years old and she’s paying $318 dollars for no-fault because she can’t even get full coverage on a 19-year-old car, and that’s ridiculous. She’s a senior citizen and she shouldn’t be paying that kind of money. “
Turnout appeared low. Because the state’s district boundaries generally favor one party or the other, it’s effectively the general election for many of these seats.
Getting elected can be difficult, and in a crowded primary, only a foolish candidate would leave even one potential vote on the table. Hence the role of the perimeter people, or greeters – the folks who sit all day, 100 feet from the entrance to the state’s polling places, with a stack of flyers, making the 11th-hour-and-55-minute pitch to voters entering to do their civic duty.
Detroit resident Landis Stevenson, 52, was stationed in a folding lawn chair outside Marquette Elementary and Middle School on the east side, wearing a Tenisha Yancey T-shirt, ready to ask for support. Yancey has only one opponent, Shaun Maloy, for her seat in the Michigan House of Representatives, and incumbent Yancey is likely cruising to an easy victory.
Stevenson doesn’t even live in her district. But Yancey is his pastor’s sister-in-law, and so he volunteered to fly her flag, so to speak, for 13 hours, taking only bathroom breaks, until polls close at 8 p.m.
“I have a poncho,” in case it rains, and if the sun comes out, there’s a shady tree nearby, he said. “Right now I’m fine.”
Around the corner at Salem Memorial Lutheran Church, a longer line of greeters sat, eating snacks and representing a variety of candidates and black-slate political action committees.
“Most (voters) are very courteous,” said Ethel Jackson, 65. Most also refuse the flyer, having made up their minds about their vote. But some will take it, whether out of courtesy or for help in making a last-minute decision Jackson can’t say. It’s not her problem; all she can do is offer.
Next to her sat Angel Wainaina, 14, repping Tim Killeen, a Democratic county commissioner running unopposed. Angel, who isn’t able to vote for another four years, is getting paid and thinks it’s not a bad way to make a little money. She didn’t have a flyer to share, and wore a hat and T-shirt with Killeen’s name. Other poll workers had been handing out nail files with Killeen’s name on them, a perennial campaign giveaway.
“They said people are more likely to hold on to them for a while,” she said. “They’d just throw away a piece of paper.”