In early October, Beverly Sharp addressed a table of poll workers, elections officials and activists gathered in rural Adams Township, Michigan, with a prayer.
“Father, we thank you for this opportunity to meet together to discuss things, and to agree if we agree, and if we disagree, [to be] friendly,” said the longtime poll worker.
It was a plea lodged in earnest ahead of an unprecedented election year.
Hillsdale county – where Adams is located – has been roiled by election conspiracy theories since the 2020 election, and officials say a growing rightwing movement is now stoking fears of political violence ahead of the 2024 election.
Across the county, where 73% of voters supported Donald Trump in 2020, questions of election denialism and far-right politics have split the community. A faction of the Hillsdale county GOP, dubbed the “America First Republicans”, split off from more traditional conservatives following the January 6 Capitol riot, when Trump and his allies tried to overturn his election loss.
In October, the group appointed a new chair: David Stone, the former leader of the Michigan-based Christian Hutaree Militia.
“The [election] next year will be really bad,” said Adams Township clerk Suzy Roberts, who is tasked with running the town’s elections.
Roberts took office in May, ousting a conspiracy theory-touting clerk in a recall election that also removed a far-right supervisor from the township board in hopes of bringing stability to the politically fractious community following a series of alarming incidents.
A former member of America First Republicans told the Guardian in April that she had faced slurs, harassment, and threats after she left the group – prompting her to file a police report.
Sharp, who is 93 and campaigned for the May recall, described a harrowing encounter at a township meeting with a member of the America First Republicans in 2020. “He shouted, ‘You stupid F-ing women,’” said Sharp, and followed her and another longtime poll worker “all the way out into the parking lot”.
The chair of the far-right group, Stone, said he opposed harassment and was unaware of threatening behavior by members. When asked about his past involvement with the Hutaree Militia – and community members concerned about militia activity in general – Stone pointed to his acquittal in a federal sedition case in 2012.
“Anybody who’s got a problem with Hutaree Militia, why don’t you sit down and look and see what an acquittal means,” said Stone. “We’re 11 years past that, and people are still trying to drag this out.” The case followed an FBI sting which the prosecution claimed had found evidence the Hutaree were planning an armed revolt. Citing insufficient evidence of a concrete plan, a federal judge dismissed the sedition and conspiracy charges, leaving Stone with a weapons violation.
The threat to elections in Hillsdale county is now twofold. While tensions in the community devolved into open hostility following the last presidential election, the infrastructure for elections administration has also been crumbling for years.
Stephanie Scott, the election clerk who Roberts was elected to replace, spent much of her time in office casting doubts on the results of the 2020 election. She was stripped of her right to administer elections by Michigan’s secretary of state after she refused to submit voting machines for routine maintenance.
Scott’s actions in office earned her national attention and support from conspiracy theorists like former Overstock.com CEO Patrick Byrne, who was part of Trump’s inner circle and peddled the president’s false claims about the 2020 election. Scott’s attorney, Stefanie Lambert, faces charges in connection with an alleged effort by Trump allies to illegally access voting machines in 2020.
Voters in the conservative town – many of whom themselves questioned the 2020 election results – became exasperated with the divisive politics on the township board, and voted by 406-214 to oust Scott in May. In the same election they also removed township supervisor Mark Nichols, who supported Scott’s actions, and replaced him with township supervisor Randy Johnson. (Scott did not agree to an interview and did not answer questions for this story.)
Since Roberts took over, things have gotten better.
“We have a clerk that we can work with now,” said Abe Dane, the Hillsdale county chief deputy clerk whose office was temporarily tasked with running Adams Township elections after the state stripped Scott of her duties. “From that standpoint, it’s been a great improvement.”
But the transition has its own challenges. Roberts is rushing to learn and implement new statewide elections policies ahead of 2024 while continuing to push back against false conspiracy theories. Videos have circulated on a local YouTube channel, alleging fraudsters in state government are sabotaging elections, while voting machines communicate with foreign countries on the internet.
To run local elections, new clerks must learn to work with Michigan’s voter rolls and become fluent in policies governing voter registration, overseas voters, and absentee voting. On top of that, Michigan recently passed a constitutional amendment creating an early voting period and allowing people to permanently vote absentee – a move that will expand voting access but has administrators scrambling to implement the new rules.
To make matters more complicated, Roberts said that parts of her office’s budget were in disarray when she came onboard. At a 9 October township meeting, Roberts alleged Scott was responsible for the “mess,” saying: “It has caused a lot of turmoil.” (Scott denied that the issues came from her tenure as clerk).
Even basic logistical questions such as how to run early voting have become the source of controversy and misinformation, officials said.
The Adams Township board agreed to have local voters cast their early ballots at a single county-wide location shared with other towns rather than open up a separate voting location to limit extra work. But Scott loudly objected in a speech that a local rightwing group posted to YouTube, claiming the measure would compromise the security of elections.
“You guys just sold out Adams Township,” she said.
Scott has continued to attend township meetings, and she and her allies have decried “centralized elections”, invoking a conspiracy theory that state officials want to have fewer elections hubs so they can more easily rig the elections and accusing local officials of aiding that scheme.
And those meetings have continued to be fraught.
Gail McClanahan, who organized the recall campaign, said she was confronted by a handful of rightwing activists after a recent township board meeting. As she tried to leave, McClanahan said the group blocked her path threateningly. “They all four stood there, and I had to go out around,” said McClanahan, adding that they were “mouthing off” at her.
McClanahan’s experience prompted Johnson, the new town supervisor, to warn attendees at the next township meeting to stay civil.
“I would like to bring up a topic that really should never even have to be spoken,” he said in early October. “This is a public meeting. You should be able to come here, and be able to just listen to what’s said, voice your opinion, and when you leave that door you should be able to go home in peace.”
While new policies are a hassle for elections officials and poll worker, the specter of violence is what keeps them up at night.
Roberts said that currently the only safety net for her and the female poll workers she’s responsible for is if their husbands show up. She’s hoping the township will make more concrete security arrangements ahead of the 2024 elections.
Until then, some officials are taking matters into their own hands.
Dane, the Hillsdale county chief deputy clerk, has already developed an ad-hoc system for safety. He keeps a video call with law enforcement open throughout the day and carries an 800 megahertz radio while visiting municipal polling places in case he needs to immediately reach the police while in the field. And he’s sent along an emergency response document to the precincts for local poll workers.
But the emergency protocols cover things like “inclement weather and power outages”, said Dane – nothing for if people “come in and unplug tabulators or threaten poll workers”.
In May, Johnson told the Guardian he had received an anonymous call from someone who called him “dirty words” and told him he knew where he lived. Since then, Johnson’s wife Kitty says, they regularly receive threats. She didn’t want to get into detail, but called them “weird, crazy, scary calls”.
“I said, ‘Randy, you know, you’re out of town a lot, and I’m getting a little bit worried about being here alone,’” she said. The couple installed a fortified fence around their property.
