In a Cold Garage, Minnesota's Senate Recount Drags On

Minnesota political experts believe they are engaged in a process with little precedent; the race is closer than the 2000 presidential recount in Florida and more contentious than the 1974 Senate contest in New Hampshire between John Durkin and Louis Wyman, which required a special runoff vote.

Senate Majority Leader Harry M. Reid (D-Nev.), miffed by some of the recount proceedings last week, released a statement expressing "great concern" and fueled speculation that the Senate could ultimately help pick the winner.

"There are a lot of ways this could still go -- the canvass board, the local courts, the Senate -- but we're going to see it through to the end," said Marc Elias, Franken's lawyer. "Everything now is trending in our direction."

Said Knaak, Coleman's attorney: "It's like running a race, and you're not looking at the finish line -- you're looking at one step in front of you so you don't trip and fall."

For the past two weeks, both campaigns have focused on the garage in suburban Minneapolis, where fluorescent light bounces off an exposed concrete floor and whitewashed walls. There are 107 counting locations in Minnesota, but none compares to this one in terms of magnitude or import. Here, officials are charged with recounting almost 600,000 ballots from surrounding Hennepin County, a Democratic-leaning area where Franken pinned his hopes.

Most of the election officials are retirees hired at $9 an hour to work for about two weeks. They arrive at the garage at 8 each morning, complaining about the ice-coated entryway and the ineffective heating system before taking their seats at the plastic tables.

Participating in the recount feels like returning to elementary school, election officials say. They sometimes count with their fingers and raise their hands to signal irregular ballots. A recount manager whom they call "the hall monitor" claps her hands twice when the noise level exceeds a whisper. A room adjacent to the garage is used primarily for snacking and napping.

The judges are governed by a long list of recount rules posted at the front of the garage. From 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., they must sort ballots into five piles and then divide them into stacks of 25. Nobody other than an election official may touch a ballot. Each counted stack must be sealed and placed into its designated box.

"If you lose count, that means start over. If you mess up the order, start over. If you stack them wrong, start over," said Marilyn Selby, an election judge from Minneapolis. "You have to start over a lot. When it's this close, the smallest mistake could ruin the whole thing."

Two volunteers from each campaign press against the edge of each table and monitor the judges, double-checking their counts and challenging ballots that will be sent to the canvassing board for review. Sometimes, standing at the table is an exercise in boredom. Fewer than one ballot in 200 is challenged, and Coleman campaign manager Cullen Sheehan said one concern is making sure volunteers "don't fall asleep at the table."

Other times, a table can resemble a mini-courtroom, rife with protest and contention. Some campaign volunteers carry a two-inch-thick binder labeled Recount Professional Volunteer Manual and refer to it when they spot a controversial ballot. If one side challenges a ballot, the other side usually challenges the next to catch up, election officials said. A smudge here, a stray line there, an oval that was shaded too lightly -- all challenged and set aside for more studying. Some of the disputed ballots are scanned, posted on the Internet and debated on blogs.

"Most of these challenges are going to get thrown out, because a lot of them are just superfluous," said Joe Mansky, elections manager in Ramsey County, where more than 400 ballots have been challenged. "You get people from both campaigns standing right next to each other, and the stakes are high, so they start competing against each other.

"That's probably one of the main reasons this process can sometimes be difficult: When it's this close, everybody has the feeling that the next ballot could be the decider."