Today I had the honor to escorting my 104.5 year-old friend Ruth to vote.

She was born before women had the right to vote.

Her 1st vote was for FDR.

Her dad died of the flu during the pandemic of 1918, when she was 2.

This is her voting story today.

Here she is with her walker, crossing Broadway towards Lincoln Center where she’s lived since the Nixon administration.
A voting official led the way (along with my son.)

Here’s Ruth holding my kids’ hands before we went in.

Photos and videos are not allowed at the actual voting site.

So I can only tell you that the voting officials & volunteers were unbelievably kind—some were in tears; everyone made sure Ruth went to the front of the line.

She was ready with her license that shows her DOB : 3/30/16
(That would be 1916.)

But all she had to do was show her registration card & sign with a stylus she got to keep.

My kids & I walked her to a private booth.

I helped her stand.

She filled in that circle HARD.

When she inserted her ballot to scan, the place went nuts.

We walked out to the street & all the folks in line for hours cheered her.

A beautiful voting official named Antonia asked for a photo with Ruth.

Ruth was overcome with emotion.

She had to sit in her walker to have a cry.

As we walked away from the voting station, my 6.5 year-old girl reached for the hand of her 104.5 year-old friend Ruth, for whom my daughter had made “a hat crown” that very morning.

People along Broadway cheered Ruth, now wearing her “I VOTED EARLY IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK” sticker.

You could hear the claps for up and down the blocks.

Thank you for

Thank you for hearing Ruth’s story.

I cried, my husband cried, poll workers cried, Ruth cried.

My children witnessed herstory in action.

This is what voting means.

Y’all keep on getting out to vote.

Do it for Ruthie.

RUTH TO THE BOOTH!!!