They Call Me Susan: Revised

Susan lived in a quiet neighborhood a few blocks from the center of town. She lived with her mother and sister in a modest wood frame home shaded by several tall oak trees that provided cool shade in the hot summer months. There were several similar homes nestled on both sides. Susan often waved a friendly hello to the neighbors but she was known as a bit reclusive. Neighbors were curious about the comings and goings of men and women. Susan was known as a teacher and lecturer so the human traffic was seen as part of her work. The absence of a husband was the subject of some gossip though.

Susan returned from her walk, climbing the narrow stairs to her second-floor office which was basically an attic which required her to duck a bit in places due to the slopped roof. She walked over to the desk positioned before a small window facing the oak trees in the tiny back yard. She placed her large shoulder bag carefully next to her desk. It was loaded with papers and books and it rarely left her side. Several stuffed chairs and cane chairs filled the open space, most holding more papers and books. Several bookcases lined the walls. There were empty spaces on several of the shelves which were awaiting the return of the books strewn about. It was here that Susan felt comfortable. She had learned to speak at meetings and events, but she was most comfortable reading and sharing her ideas with her frequents visitors.

One of these visitors, a fellow resident of the town, troubled her greatly. He was a towering person, impeccably dressed and well spoken. Fred was a compassionate person and she shared his concerns, But she could not veer from her mission.

It was early fall and the air had turned chilly. The skies were typically cloudy and gloomy at this time of year with periods of ice pellets and snow to drive citizens inside. This atmosphere enhanced her anxiety about the coming event. Susan’s plan would be executed the next day. Fred would understand why his concerns would be taking a back seat. Susan ate a light supper of soup and a couple of scrambled eggs. The strips of bacon were a special treat. The coffee helped her to complete her letter to the editor of the local paper. She followed this with a two-page typed letter to Fred explaining the outrageous actions she was about to take. Both would be placed in the mailbox down the street the next day. She carefully and neatly addressed both envelopes.  She used the full name “Frederick” to emphasize the importance of the contents.

Susan slept well, confident in her plan. She awoke and pushed aside the thick comforter. She dressed quickly in the cool air. There would be no makeup or fancy jewelry today. She prepared breakfast for herself and her mother. They lived very separate lives under this roof. Susan dared not discuss her business with her mother who would certainly not approve of the scandalous plan that was about to unfold. The porridge and toast were warming and satisfying, particularly with the jelly liberally spread on the toast.

The walk to the red house several blocks away was uneventful. The sky was clear for a change. The breeze was cold and steady as she tucked her face beneath two scarves. She nodded to several men who walked by, dressed in long coats and gloves. Her coat was a bit worn but amply warm. Her large bag bounced against the side of her body as she approached the house. Several men were exiting; they nodded to her but did not speak.

A stern looking gentleman sat at a desk near the end of the front hall. He was busy with reading and writing notes on several papers before him and he did not notice Susan’s approach. She stood before the desk and placed her large bag sharply on the floor. The noise alerted the man to her presence. He looked her over for a couple of seconds before speaking. He seemed perplexed and a bit annoyed. Then in a firm voice he stated, “Don’t you know this is Election Day? You must leave”. She paused for a couple of seconds and responded, “No, I won’t”.

As she exited the building Susan smiled a bit. She breathed deeply. She pictured her large, bold signature on the ballot- “Susan B. Anthony”. She left the evidence of her crime in plain sight. That was probably why they let her vote. She will soon be arrested to be put in her place according to the election official. She wondered if she would be mentioned in a short newspaper article. After all she was the first woman to cast a vote. The letters in her bag were mailed a bit later, to be postmarked November 18^th, 1872. She will die well before she could legally vote, but she fought on from her tiny Rochester, New York home.