Surprisingly, the letter did not explain that I had failed to check a box certifying that I did not have a Texas driver’s license. If it had, my voting blues would have ended right there. The Harris County process lets voters guess what information is missing. My packet of information included my full Social Security number; a local utility bill offering proof of my Texas residence and a Pennsylvania driver’s license – a reflection of my strong desire to vote in a primary featuring a woman and African American as presidential contenders.

Weeks passed, yet not my voter registration certificate. A week before the election, a very nice clerk at the Tax Assessor’s office informed me that the office had “no record” of receiving my follow-up correspondence, which contained, out of desperation, the keys to unlocking my financial identity. She tried to comfort me by telling me the letter was probably sitting on somebody’s desk, waiting to be opened. It was not. It had disappeared, leaving my heart-broken. For the first time since I became a registered voter, I missed casting a ballot in a presidential primary.

Now wary of registrations by mail, the Texas Department of Public Safety’s Drivers License Centers seemed the better way to go. There was more than one way to reach my destination. But before I could apply, I had to get a copy of my Social Security card, a process that took weeks. It was July before I could go to the driver’s license center and submit my third voter registration application. A month later, an attorney who with the League of Women Voters urged me to check with the registrar to make sure everything was OK. So I made another phone call to another clerk. Imagine my dismay when she said the only voter registration record the office currently had on file for me was my February, 2008 registration, which was incomplete.

On September 2, I printed a copy of the voter registration form off the Internet. filled it out at home, made a copy so I could prove it was correct, and hand-delivered it to the assessor’s office. A few days later, my voter registration certificate appeared online with August 27 as the effective date. A few weeks later, a second voter registration certificate (with the same registration number as the first) arrived in the mail. It stated I was registered to vote as of : Oct. 2. Attorneys now tell me the dual dates and dual cards could pose a problem for me on Election Day. (The state database has August 27 as my registration date while the county database has Oct. 2.) This year, for the first time, I’ll go to the polls with the phone number of an attorney in my pocket.

When I read the torrent of stories regarding duplicate voter registrations, fraud does not pop into my mind, as it does with most folks. My experience provides me with a filter that is less trusting and far more skeptical. How many phone calls did those voters make to their registrar’s office before they filled out additional forms? (The clerks told me I wasn’t registered to vote three days after my registration card was posted in the online database.) How many voters were ADVISED to fill out duplicate applications, as I was? How many people registering to vote this year got tangled in a web of partisan politics?

My great fear is that many first time voters will show up at the polls on November 4, only to find their names are not on the official rolls. Perhaps they overlooked a small box or left a line blank. Perhaps nobody told them how to fix the mistake, or even that the card needed to be changed. These dramatic encounters are likely to make the wait longer for everyone, and the mood tense. The will of the people may not decide the closest elections. Rather, these decisions may be made by the folks with the sheer will to overcome the registration obstacles.

If they can’t win fair, they’ll do it dishonestly.

This was to be her first time voting, and she was in tears when she left the polling station. If it were me, I can’t say that I wouldn’t have caused a serious scene.

The Houston Chronicle just reported that Obama has a 7 pt lead in Harris County. Given that, if Houston suddenly turned red, it should raise some eyebrows.