Bill and Katie Greening with their dog Yoda in front of their home as churches, schools, and government buildings are the norm for voting precincts, several of Long Beach’s 211 precincts are in odd places, including homes, mortuaries, a Holiday Inn and a Casino in Long Beach, Thursday, May 30, 2018. (Photo by Thomas R. Cordova/Press-Telegram)

Dave and Wendy Manasse, live in a 1934 Art Deco house where they’ve been hosting a voters polling place for years. In preparation of the upcoming vote Dave hung the American flag on the house in Long Beach on Friday, June 1, 2018. (Photo by Brittany Murray, Press Telegram/SCNG)

Earl Johnson stands in his garage as churches, schools, and government buildings are the norm for voting precincts, several of Long Beach’s 211 precincts are in odd places, including homes, mortuaries, a Holiday Inn and a Casino in Long Beach, Thursday, May 30, 2018. (Photo by Thomas R. Cordova/Press-Telegram)

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Dave and Wendy Manasse, live in a 1934 Art Deco house where they’ve been hosting a voters polling place for years. In preparation of the upcoming vote Dave hung the American flag on the house in Long Beach on Friday, June 1, 2018. (Photo by Brittany Murray, Press Telegram/SCNG)

Bill and Katie Greening sit at their dining table as churches, schools, and government buildings are the norm for voting precincts, several of Long Beach’s 211 precincts are in odd places, including homes, mortuaries, a Holiday Inn and a Casino in Long Beach, Thursday, May 30, 2018. (Photo by Thomas R. Cordova/Press-Telegram)



Earl Johnson stands in his garage as churches, schools, and government buildings are the norm for voting precincts, several of Long Beach’s 211 precincts are in odd places, including homes, mortuaries, a Holiday Inn and a Casino in Long Beach, Thursday, May 30, 2018. (Photo by Thomas R. Cordova/Press-Telegram)

Mary Patton, who lives on Marna Avenue in Long Beach, looks at a collage of photos and stationery from the 1990 grand opening of the Nixon LIbrary in Yorba Linda, which her late husband attended. (Chris Haire/staff)

On Tuesday, hundreds of volunteers will get up before dawn, drive to a church or a school, and begin setting up for a day of democracy-in-action – the statewide primary and various local elections elections.

Poll workers are the ones who make Election Day possible, city officials say; they work upwards of 16 hours a day at unfamiliar places – checking people in and helping them vote. But for a select few, being a poll worker means unlocking the doors at your own business.

And for a handful of others, it means rolling out of bed and opening the garage.

Most of the approximately 210 precincts for this election are at traditional locations – places of worship, middle schools, government buildings – but not every corner of the city has a surplus of typical gathering places. So officials have to get creative: on Tuesday, there will be polling places at a pizza joint, several mortuaries and a Holiday Inn.

Related: Historical arcade hosts polling place, continuing Long Beach family’s legacy

Such polling places are all over. But, in one corner of Southern California, all within East Long Beach’s District 5, live an array of perennial Election Day rock stars: a group of four homeowners who, for decades, have allowed voters to stroll into their residences and cast ballots.

“Some of them are really eager and enjoy doing it,” said Tamela Austin, a staffer in the City Clerk’s Office. “We love those people. We are so grateful.”

Why do they do it? Generally for the same reasons: to give back to the community, meet neighbors, and enjoy the rare political optimism Election Day brings.

Missing out

Mary Patton, who lives on Marna Avenue, has a different reason for allowing a poll to be set up in her garage.

“It’s for the money,” she said, grinning sarcastically. “$25 won’t even cover the electricity.”

That’s how much the city pays to set up a polling place at someone’s house or business. But the money, of course, isn’t the real reason Patton has hosted a polling place nearly every election for at least 15 years.

“It’s such a joyous experience,” Patton, 80, said. “People are so excited to vote.”

Patton became a polling place host the same way most do: someone knocked on her door and asked.

“It’s patriotic,” she said of her decision to host. She also volunteered as a poll worker.

Over the years, Patton and her service dog, Lady, a brown labradoodle, became friends with the other volunteers who worked the polls in her garage. It was like a biannual reunion.

And the voters, especially her neighbors, loved it even more. They’d pet Lady while in line, and chat with the hostess. On occasion, Patton would hand out star-spangled bracelets or mini-flags to voters.

In April, though, Patton decided to stop working the polls herself. She walks with a cane, and working from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m. is draining, she said. But she still opened up her garage for the primary. As she will again on Tuesday.

“I kind of missed it,” Patton said. “I’d go out there and ask if they needed help with anything. I made them coffee. I wanted to help.”

Accidental electioneering

Those who vote at the house on Pepperwood Avenue will likely feel as if they’ve traveled back to Florida circa the 1940s. Wendy and Dave Manasse’s home was built in 1934, in the streamlined moderne style, an off-shoot of art deco. Voters will stroll up the driveway, past a flag draped off an awning that separates the front from the back, and head toward the pool house. Palm trees, plastic flamingos and legless pool chairs flank the backyard.

“It has a Florida feel to it,” Wendy Manasse said.

The couple’s house became a polling place during President George W. Bush’s administration.

“We feel good about doing it,” Wendy Manasse said. “We’re a big voting neighborhood and we know a lot of our neighbors.”

But they don’t work the polls. Instead, they’ll hang around, chatting with their friends who stop by to vote, and wait for the line to die down so they can cast their ballots with ease.

But not working the polls led to a problem once. In November 2008, the first presidential election that the couple hosted, they threw a watch party. Five minutes before the polls closed, they turned out their television. But because of the open, natural-light filled living room, the television could be seen from the pool house.

“We got in trouble for electioneering,” Dave Manasse said. “We had to turn off the T.V. because it was too close to the poll.”

They’ve since learned their lesson, the couple said.

Having fun

One wall of Earl Johnson’s garage, on Rutgers Avenue, is peppered with “I voted” stickers from every election he’s hosted. The wall is also a memorial of sorts to the United States Navy, in which he served during the Korean War.

“The garage is the one place that’s mine,” Johnson joked. “I’m not allowed to hang anything in the house.”

Johnson, who has lived in his house with his wife for 45 years, said he doesn’t remember when they first hosted an election. But he remembered thinking at the time that it’d be fun.

“It’s a long day,” he said. “But it’s invigorating. No one is sitting there saying, ‘Oh, I’m so tired.’”

This year, however, he’s feeling nervous. Last week, he said, he got a call every poll inspector dreads: two of his volunteers had dropped out.

One of his sons lives with him, Johnson said, so he could deputize him to help. But his wife, who used to work with him, has congestive heart failure; 16 hours of helping people vote is too taxing. (“I just pray the lord gives me more time with her, because I’m not ready to lose her,” Johnson said.)

Still, he’s upbeat – and looking forward to Tuesday.

“I get to see all my friends,” he said.

Giving back

Last week, Bill Greening set up a row of American flags down the walkway to his front door for Memorial Day.

He decided to leave them up for Election Day.

“Maybe we’ll leave them up through Fourth of July,” he wife, Katie Greening said.

The couple started hosting polling places because of a personal philosophy, Bill Greening said.

“It’s a small way to give back to the community,” he said.

They have a therapy dog, a labradoodle like Patton’s, who enjoys hanging out in the garage on Election Day. the dog, named Yoda, is a recognizable – and favorite – part of the voting booth for long-time Ladoga Avenue residents. One of the most important things they try to do is make voters comfortable, Bill Greening said.

“Sometimes people are nervous,” Bill Greening said, “like first-time voters or those who don’t know how to operate the machines.

“You want people to feel comfortable voting.”