Ronnie Polaneczky: Voter fraud isn't for everybody

LAST MONTH, I got an email from a reader who said he knew of a devious Election Day scheme. And he wanted to give me first crack at covering it.

"I know someone who is hatching a plan to vote in someone else's name(s) this general election," wrote the man, whose name I won't use here because, frankly, I feel embarrassed for him.

"They will find a few names who, for one reason or another, it can be confirmed, will not be voting. It should only require a little research, like reading the obituaries.

"Then they'll determine where their polling place would be, go in and give their name, and vote," he continued. "Depending on the early rate of success, they may vote several times.

"They need a journalist to document the Holy Grail of the first documented case of voter fraud. Everyone seems to think such cases are like unicorns, but we disagree. Obviously," he concluded, "this journalist would have to protect their source at all costs. Thoughts?"

Thoughts? Trust me, I had thoughts. So I asked the man to call me, which he did. He got my voicemail, admitted that he himself was the "someone" who was hatching the plan and then railed about widespread vote-cooking that journalists hadn't the guts to document.

And that's the last I heard from him. He ignored my subsequent attempts to discuss his plot and the ways he hoped I'd "document" it.

So this column is for my would-be "Donnie Brasco" who's itching to go undercover for a cause that even Republican strategist Steve Schmidt said, only Monday, "doesn't really exist," despite the Republican Party's insistence that voter fraud is more rampant than bedbugs in a flophouse.

Dear "Donnie,"

You do know it's a crime to cast a fraudulent vote, right, no matter the motivation? And that having me along for the ride won't nullify your crime? If it did, hell, I'd rent my services to shoplifters, and we'd clean out Nordstrom for Christmas.

In Pennsylvania, tampering with elections can net you up to $15,000 in fines and seven years in prison. If you have that kind of time and cash to blow, have at it. But I must decline the offer to be your accessory.

When you get caught, by the way (and you will, which I'll get to), don't count on sympathy from the courts, because lawbreaking stunts to prove a point don't usually sit well with judges.

Two Novembers ago, a goofball named Cardon Ellis was arrested after intentionally sneaking a knife past airport security in Salt Lake City. He did it to prank the system, but the authorities weren't laughing when they locked him up.

Which is not to say that authorities won't chuckle when you get caught casting ballots in a dead man's name. But they'll be chuckling at your stupidity, because our polling places are staffed by workers who live in the voting districts where they work.

Many of these people have been at it forever. My own polling place has been staffed by the same workers for years now. Suffice it to say, Election Day is like old-home week. So, good luck convincing these canny souls that old man John Doe, who died in July, has come back to life looking mighty different from how he looked in the casket at the viewing.

I suppose what I want to say, Donnie, is: Just hang it up already. Your desire to be a whistle-blowing hero is admirable, but your cause is weak. And real heroes don't ask a journalist to protect them "at all costs" from the consequences of their actions. They accept them in service of a cause greater than the protection of their own hides.

As should you, Donnie. Otherwise, you're kind of a weasel.

So get out there and vote. Do it legitimately, encourage others to do the same and take a stand for the integrity of the voting process.

You can do that by standing outside your polling place and telling voters that they need to show some form of ID only if it's their first time voting or if they're voting at a new polling place.

Otherwise, they're good to go.

Now, go cast your ballot - in your own name.