This continual counting and transfer of ballots-both for Council and school committee-goes on in an atmosphere somewhat akin to a blend of a ladies'coffee circle, Suffolk Downs, and Chapter 7 of The Last Hurrah,
At the center of it all are the ballot counters-some 120 of them, mostly elderly ladies, half of whom are Democats and half Republicans (in order to keep the non-partisan election nonpartisan). In between counting ballots, some just sit quietly and munch the free coffee and doughnuts or stare at the bleak walls of the auditorium, but most gossip-about their children, their illnesses, the weather and, this year, the demonstrations at M.I.T. (which they didn't seem to like).
Some of those countres take a vacation from their usual jobs in order to be present for the social festivities of the count. But others come for another simple reason: the $12 a day the job pays. "I need the money, What else can I say?" comments a sixtyish lady in a flowered dress.
Though the job may once have been a plum, fewer people want it these days. The Election Commission has difficulty finding enough counters-particularly the necessary Republicans-in a City which is mostly Democratic. "It's harder to find people than it used to be. We don't have enough to draw from. What with Model Cities and everything, there are just so many other jobs and so much money around," says one of the supervisors.
As the counters go about their work, candidates and their count-watchers peer in on them-sometimes intently, sometimes lackadaisically-from over the iron pipe railing which separates the counters from everybody else. Watching the ballots pile up and listening for announcements of precinct results, the candidates continually reappraise their situation. Witness Harvard Ed School student Francis X. Haves, during the first count of ballots for him and the other School Committee candidates:
"I think I'm going down on this count. I've been watching the piles." (Laugh) "I knew I should have gone to that class instead this morning."
The count has a rhythm of its own; at first the moments of activity are few and far between as ballots are laboriously counted and stamped. Then, as the redistribution picks up speed, the flurries of activity come closer together, though waiting for the next count is always an infinity for any politician, anywhere. The onlookers join in the handicapping game, in particular attempting the difficult task of determining which candidates will have number two votes to give to which others, or as they put it. "who'll be feeding whom." Conversations go like this:
"Clinton? You watch: he's going to get Sullivan votes. He'll get two, there hundred of Walter's surplus."
"I'll tell you who's in trouble-Mahoney. I just saw The Professor [incumbent Thomas H. D. Mahoney is an M.I.T. professor] and I told him, You'd better watch out, there's not going to be any Crane surplus to go around this year."
During the redistributions, counters call out the name of the candidate to whom each ballot will go before they place it in that candidate's pile. "VUH-LEW-CHI," the cry comes. The pencils of a dozen candidates and watchers crowded around make another mark next to Al's name on the sheets where they're tallying the redistribution. "We're getting plenty but maybe you could use some more votes. We'd slip a few extra ones in for you-but there's witnesses," A Vellucci backer jokes with another candidate.
And so it goes, for hours which soon stretch into days. As the count grinds along, some candidates begin to complain: "What's the matter with the Election Commission? Don't they understand this system?" Council candidate Daniel J. Clinton inquires of Eddie Martin a man of no small local importance who (a)-writes the City stories for the Cambridge-Somerville edition of the Boston Record-American; (b) -serves on the Cambridge Housing Authority; and (c) -is a good friend of Councillor Al Vellucci.
No, they don't. They're always asking me" replies PR veteran Martin, who then returns to his tally sheet, as if preparing his bets for the eighth race.
Much of the grousing about the count itself is probably unfair. In fact, today's counts are, by general sentiment, models of efficiency compared to those done in the first years after Cambridge adopted the PR system in 1941. In one election then, it took nearly a month to get the results.
Complaints about the count probably only reflect a deeper discontent with the PR system itself, which has never been universally popular in Cambridge. On four occasions, anti-PR groups have put on the ballot referendums on whether to retain the system. Each time, however, voters approved of PR; the last time, in 1965, by a 2500-vote margin.
The discontent remains, though, particularly among some of the socalled "independents." They feel the system unduly aids the other of the City's two political factions-the Cambridge Civic Association, the local "good government" group. "The only minority PR protects is the CCA," said one veteran of an anti-PR campaign, arguing that the CCA's loose system of endorsement gives them an edge on the independents, who are not even that well organized.
The complaint that PR doesn't really help minority groups seems to be not quite true. Under PR. Cambridge's blacks, for example, have gained seats on the council and school committee which they probably would not have gained under any other electoral system, save a ward system gerrymandered in their favor. At the same time, other minorities such as Jews and even Yankees have gained seats though it would be difficult to say if they would have got more or less under another system.
The counterpart of minority representation is, however, often a Cambridge City Council which cannot muster a cohesive majority. Though PR candidates run at-large, the system places a premium on "number ones." To get them, candidates most often appeal to a small group. Once on the council, they are often more interested in divvying up the current pie of City services among their voters than in planning much expansion of said services.
No "perfect" electoral system exists, however; PR, whatever its faults, does succeed in making Cambridge's political system mirror all the strains and divisions running through the City. As such, it seems to have found a home here. For some years to come, Cambridge will probably still be counting its ballots by the weekend after election Tuesday.