Arizona

The Dodgers lost four straight playoff games to the Milwaukee Brewers in a humiliating end to their season.

But this was worse.

Steve Hilton lost to Xavier Becerra in the race for governor before “Jeopardy” aired.

But this was worse.

President Trump lost early, late and often Tuesday night in the midterm elections.

In contests across the country — for governor, for Senate, for the House — he had told people to vote as if he was on the ballot.

They did, and Democrats ran the table, taking the House and then the Senate.

Trump lost big, inspected the wreckage, and claimed the problem was lousy candidates.

Has he lost a step? I would have expected him to say the election was stolen. All of the elections.

But maybe he realized that for all intents and purposes, his political career is over. Trump was trounced, the country triumphed, and the long national nightmare is over, but for the rest of his lame duck presidency.

I don’t think we were witnessing a national love affair with Democrats, nor do I think Tuesday night’s winning political party has all the answers on any of the day’s pressing matters. The Dems have their own problems, including an identity crisis and a shortage of bankable presidential prospects.

But the country’s voters signaled loud and clear that they’re tired of:

The lies.

The insults and name-calling.

The hatred.

The chaos.

The self-dealing.

The lack of civility.

The absence of humility.

Last week I turned on the news and saw Trump making fun of the name of newly elected Michigan Sen. Abdul El-Sayed, a Muslim.

An awful thing to see a president do, but here’s what’s worse:

I wasn’t surprised.

Then I saw him say at a political rally that he had looked at a man’s rear end, “and I’ve never done that before…Off the record, women, yes, men no, OK?”

Again, no surprise.

He once mocked the physical appearance of a female presidential primary foe, as well as the wife of a male foe, and insisted for years that the first Black president was secretly from Africa.

Trump had always been able to get away with this sort of numbskullery. His true believers were willing to put up with it as long as he seemed true to his promise of working on their behalf. Until they could no longer deny that he was only working on his own behalf.

The cryptocurrency profiteering. The bloody ballroom. The gold-plating of the White House.

All of it while working people, including staunch supporters, struggled to understand the goofball tariffs and wondered when the promise of lower grocery prices would be delivered.

Trump and the Republicans might have prevailed Tuesday night if not for the war in Iran, which everyone is still paying for at the gas pump. The president who promised we’d stay out of international conflicts went all in, for no good reason, then said it was over, we won, except that it’s not over, and we didn’t win.

And there’s no exit plan.

But so what?

It’s not like Trump is paying for gas. His golf cart is probably electric.

In the beginning, as a Republican populist who tapped into justifiable voter disapproval of Democratic leadership, Trump was onto something when he first ran for president. The scapegoating of immigrants was odious even then, but in 2016, at a Trump campaign rally in Arizona, I caught a glimpse of his appeal to adoring fans who cheered the presidential candidate’s vow to build a border wall, strengthen the military and make America great again. A struggling low-wage worker told me Trump was the best hope for a new day.

“We’re going to come back and rebuild our country,” Trump told the approving crowd that day in Arizona. “You will never be disappointed with me. … You are going to be so proud of your president.”

The act worked for way longer than I would have predicted. But 10 years later, and halfway through a second presidency, the gig is up. Voters said yes, they are disappointed, and no, they’re not so proud.

We thought we were having a mid-term election.

It turned out to be a political wake.

But also an awakening.

Red states voted for blue candidates in a nearly total Trump rebuke.

As I watched the returns Tuesday night, I thought about my daughter–an earth science grad student–and her generation. She’s 23, which means that for almost half her life, Trump has been a political force. Imagine being that young and living in a country that twice elected one of the most divisive and scabrous figures in history.

A man who attacked judges, invaded American cities, insisted ad nauseum that a lost election was stolen, pardoned the Jan. 6 barbarians, exonerated political donors and allies, called climate change a con job, gutted environmental protections and upended America’s global in scientific research.

It’s easy to understand why younger generations have lost faith in elections, both primary parties and the political/corporate establishment.

But on Tuesday, voters of all ages turned out and said enough already, in states red and blue.

The man who so bitterly divided us might ultimately have united us, at least for an evening.

That doesn’t mean that there is consensus on much of anything. Surely calamity awaits, just beyond the shadows, and new species of political trolls are being spawned as we live and breathe. But there was hope, on election night, in the collective declaration that we deserve and demand better.

Trump once said he was so popular and powerful, he could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue in New York, shoot somebody, and not lose any voters.

It might have been true once.

But he’s lost them now.

steve.lopez@latimes.com

MARANA, Ariz. — Michael Falk was heading into the Pima County branch library to drop off his ballot when he stopped to discuss Tuesday’s midterm election.

Pima County, in south-central Arizona, is home to one of the most competitive congressional races in the country. Falk, a 66-year-old retiree and political independent, was casting his vote for the Democrat, JoAnna Mendoza, even though he hardly knows a thing about her.

But Falk knows — and loathes — a good deal about President Trump.

“From the very beginning, when he stepped on the political stage, he made it quite clear to the people who were silenced for a long time, the bigots of the United States, he gave them a voice, and he told those people, ‘It’s OK for you to think the way that you do.’

“And then that just took off like wildfire,” Falk said, sweeping his arm like a moving wall of flame, “and that’s why we have all these laws that are against brown people and illegal people.”

Gregory Corron confessed he’s not too familiar with Mendoza’s opponent, the Republican incumbent Juan Ciscomani.

But Corron, a 67-year-old computer programmer, voted for Trump three times and believes the president is moving the country in the right direction.

Gregory Corron likes the way things have gone under Trump and wants him to continue unimpeded by a Democrat-run Congress.

(Cassidy Araiza / For The Times)

“I think, for instance, exposing fraud is a big thing. Technology is taking off. I’m totally excited about that,” said Corron, who was killing time at a strip mall in Oro Valley while the tires on his Lexus were being replaced. “I think the economy is strong. The stock market is doing well. Employment is doing well.”

For that reason, Corron cast his ballot for Ciscomani, fearful of what might happen if Democrats take control of Congress. “The reforms that Trump started,” Corron said, “need to continue.”

Mendoza and Ciscomani have assaulted the voters of southern Arizona for months, overwhelming their senses and curdling the airwaves with a ceaseless barrage of acrid advertising. Together, the two rivals and their allies have spent tens of millions of dollars on the contest, which both parties have made a top priority.

And yet, to a large degree, Mendoza and Ciscomani are mere stand-ins, their candidacies serving as little more than proxies for the president and his opposition.

Laura Lentner, another Oro Valley resident, allowed as how Ciscomani has done some good things. He is not, the Democrat said, a bad man.

“But his continued support of Trump negates it all for me,” said the 73-year-old retired dental hygienist. It’s about time, Lentner suggested, Republican lawmakers stand up and “stop being afraid of [Trump] and his constituents.”

Arizona’s 6th Congressional District is anchored in eastern Tucson and its suburbs, sprawling north toward Phoenix, east to New Mexico and south all the way to the U.S.-Mexico border. The arid landscape is creased with rugged mountain ranges, cleaved by scenic canyons and filled with vast stretches of open space interrupted by midsize cities and small towns that spring like oases from the desert floor.

In recent years, the terrain has been some of the hardest-fought political turf in the nation.

Joe Biden carried the district in 2020 by less than a percentage point. Four years later, Trump flipped it by the same tiny margin.

Ciscomani, bidding for a third term, has won two nail-biters. He’s facing a fresh opponent in Mendoza, a Marine veteran and former congressional staffer.

The district has a significant Latino population — Ciscomani and Mendoza are Mexican American — and a sizable number of seniors, veterans and military personnel. Mendoza has leaned into her Navy and Marine Corps service. “Battle Tested. Ready To Lead,” her billboards declare, including one near the Ft. Huachuca Army base. (His signs tout “Veterans For Ciscomani.”)

Mendoza has attacked the incumbent as a “spineless” tool of Trump, putting the president front and center in her avalanche of advertising. Ciscomani’s incessant ads tout his bipartisanship — he hails from the establishment wing of the Republican Party — and portray Mendoza as a tool of the unhinged left.

In that way their campaigns distill the push-pull of this midterm election, which, like every one before, amounts to a referendum on the occupant of the Oval Office.

For Trump supporters, that means explaining away vexations like inflation and the war with Iran, twin anchors dragging down the president and fellow Republicans.

Higher costs, Trump voters said, are a hangover from Biden’s time in office, a needed sacrifice or an inconvenience that will pass. Echoing the president, they said the record-breaking cost of gas was a trade-off — and a good one — to keep Iran from building a nuclear weapon.

“I wish gas prices were lower,” said Susan Summers, a Republican who stopped to chat while grocery shopping in Vail. The old railroad town has become a destination for retirees like Summers, 74, a former administrator at Cal State San Bernardino, and for commuters who don’t mind the roughly 25-mile drive to Tucson.

But, Summers went on, she’s willing to accept higher gas prices “because I think it was important to stop a fanatical regime from acquiring nuclear weapons that would actually threaten us in the longer range. Once there is some kind of resolution … prices will come down somewhat and it will make life easier for a lot of people.”

Merilyn Prentice, 78, is another refugee from the state next door. She moved to Benson (population 5,500) from Southern California after a career in nursing. She praised Trump for demonstrating a resolve that other presidents lacked.

“They’re terrorist supporters, and we have terrorist cells in this country,” Prentice said of Iran. “No one wants to talk about that. None of the other presidents wanted to touch it.”

An early voting center and ballot drop-off location at the public library in Marana, Ariz.

(Cassidy Araiza / For The Times)

If backers of the president often seemed defensive — justifying, rationalizing, urging patience — Trump critics were seething.

In Sierra Vista, Ann Nichols, 72 and a Democratic-leaning independent, could scarcely get the words out fast enough as she cataloged her outrage.

“Let’s not forget how the tariffs have wrecked the economy,” she said, “how the war that [Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin] Netanyahu tricked Trump into declaring on Iran has wrecked the economy, driven up gas prices, and the rampant corruption in the government, and how the Environmental Protection Agency might as well be known as the Environmental Pollution Agency, and the attempt to wreck the Education Department, and we’ve got a twit who knows nothing about medicine in charge of medicine.”

Nichols paused to adjust her N95 mask. She spent decades as a medical librarian at the Ft. Huachuca Army base.

Her vote for Mendoza, Nichols said, was a vote to leash Trump and start undoing some of the damage he’s inflicted over the last two years.

For all that passion, however, it would be wrong to assume a blue wave — should one come Tuesday — means there’s great regard or overflowing affection for Democrats.

Clayton Surratt, 63, a retired actor and screenwriter, was passing out boxes of groceries — veggies, protein, a loaf of bread — at the food bank in Vail when he paused to share his unhappiness with both Trump and the Democratic Party.

“I think our current government thrives and lives on cruelty,” he said as a steady stream of cars pulled up for delivery. “It upsets me to see our world, our leaders, acting in ways that we would punish an 8-year-old at school if they behave that way.”

At the same time, Surratt said, he’s not sure what Democrats stand for, beyond opposition to Trump.

Adam Thompson, a Democratic-leaning independent, was blunter still. “I don’t like either party,” he said. The 39-year-old lives in Tanque Verde and travels throughout south-central Arizona, delivering soda and snack foods to major retailers. He’s particularly upset these days with Trump.

Why, Thompson asked, are so much time and resources being devoted to matters overseas?

“We need to take care of the people here,” Thompson said. “The war in Iran, the war in the Middle East is not helping me put food on my table. I work my ass off. But at the end of the day, I have to pay that price because … we’re so busy fighting wars for other people.”

The big question is how many discouraged Trump voters sit the election out. Their level of apathy and absenteeism will spell the difference between a good and a great night for Democrats.

Alex Lagerberg, a 35-year-old tattoo artist and libertarian, is a three-time Trump voter. He was initially attracted by his seeming authenticity and background as a New York real estate developer. “He was a good option because he was not a politician,” Lagerberg said outside a mercado in Casa Grande. But, he continued, it turns out that Trump’s supposed entrepreneurial prowess wasn’t all Lagerberg thought it was, or that Trump purported it to be.

“Treating the country like a business was a good thing for a little bit, but it really hasn’t helped,” Lagerberg said. “We haven’t seen much change.”

He’s not particularly motivated to vote, Lagerberg said, or decide between Ciscomani and Mendoza, especially with the two heaving so much mud at each other.

Alex Lagerberg is disappointed in Trump and not very motivated to vote on Tuesday.

(Cassidy Araiza / For The Times)

Rick, who declined to give his last name because he doesn’t want to be hassled for his opinion, has made up his mind. He’s done voting — forever.

The 67-year-old retired government worker, a right-leaning libertarian, soured on politics and politicians long ago. “Democrat, Republican,” he said, “it’s all the same thing.”

He voted for Trump in 2024, giving the political system one last shot. And now? Trump promised “no new wars. What do we have?” Rick asked. “New wars. Taxes are still too high. And Medicare? Medicare sucks.” So no, he said, he’s not bothering with the election.

As he left Vail’s thrift shop, steamed about Trump, Mendoza, Ciscomani and the whole lot, Rick clutched his purchase, a compilation of Ray Price’s greatest hits. One song by the country singer seemed to sum up Rick’s attitude: “You Done Me Wrong.”

He’s not alone.

CHANDLER, Ariz. — At balloon-adorned tables in red, white and blue, a handful of voters inside a church gymnasium listened as Medina Moore explained what to do if federal agents show up at the polls.

Call a hotline, she told volunteers, where attorneys will be ready to respond. Take videos, report what you see and remove yourself from any situation that becomes intense, she advised.

It was one of Moore’s final poll monitor trainings in the Phoenix area before election day, preparing a few new “peacekeepers” to join the ranks of about 200 she has recruited from local faith groups in the Phoenix area to greet voters, answer questions and keep an eye out for issues at voting sites on Tuesday.

“It feels very urgent this year,” said Moore, the voting rights organizer for the Arizona Faith Network, a coalition of religious groups. “We’re in an era of information overload. Being able to educate voters on what’s true and what’s not is very important.”

As lawyers nationwide prepare defenses against possible election interference by the Trump administration and election officials train for worst-case scenarios, ordinary citizens across the country are also readying to help. Through nonpartisan groups, parents are training to be poll monitors, law students are staffing legal hotlines, veterans are holding voting events and business owners are signing pledges to back local election officials.

The grassroots efforts, underpinned by various voting and democracy nonprofits, amount to a striking push by American voters to help uphold the nation’s election system in the face of possible threats from its own government. More than 21,000 people nationwide have been trained as nonpartisan poll monitors through the Election Protection coalition, the program that Moore used, along with thousands of others through other nonprofit and partisan efforts.

The effort is aimed at helping ensure voter turnout at a time when Trump’s rhetoric has eroded public trust in the system and many GOP-led states have enacted new ballot rules for voters to navigate. Worry among voters about whether their ballots will be counted has accelerated, according to organizers; in a recent AP-NORC poll, just under half of American voters expressed confidence that midterm votes will be counted accurately.

“People who vote occasionally or it’s their first time voting or they haven’t voted in a while, they all have questions on ‘If I vote, will my vote count?’” said Rebekah Caruthers, president of the Fair Elections Center, a nonpartisan voting rights group that is working with college students to monitor voting on campuses. The best way to combat those fears, she said, is for as many people as possible to “show up and exercise their right.”

Since returning to office, Trump has undertaken a sweeping effort to exert control over and cast doubt on U.S. elections, and the administration has intensified its efforts as the midterms draw closer.

In recent days, the Justice Department has sued California, arrested residents and threatened to prosecute election officials over an unsubstantiated government claim of 20,000 “likely noncitizen” voters; moved to block certification of Alaska’s election results if the Republican candidate for Senate there loses narrowly; and began notifying counties of its plan to send federal monitors to polling places in every state.

“Be careful of the voter fraud,” Trump said at a Texas rally Tuesday. “We’re going to watch that voter fraud.”

Glendale Mayor Jerry P. Weiers, Arizona Republican gubernatorial candidate, Rep. Andy Biggs, Cindy Biggs and Sam Darmo, co-chair of the Assyrian-American Republican coalition and president of Assyrians for Justice, stand for the national anthem at an event in Glendale, Ariz., on Oct. 24, 2026.

(Rebecca Noble / Getty Images)

This week, Trump offered $1 million to anyone who reports voter fraud that leads to a conviction, the latest in a string of incentives he has floated related to the midterms and another suggestion of rampant election fraud.

U.S. Atty. Gen. Todd Blanche last week said the Justice Department did not intend to interfere with elections. House Speaker Mike Johnson (R-La.) committed to a peaceful transfer of power if Democrats win a majority, saying, “We’re going to follow the Constitution,” but predicted there would be no transfer because Republicans would win the majority. Trump told reporters Tuesday that he would respect the election results “if they’re honest elections.”

Preparations by lawyers, nonprofits and Democratic lawmakers to anticipate how the Trump administration could try to interfere with the midterms have been underway for months. Courts have already blocked many of the administration’s steps, including attempts to access state voter rolls, restrict voting by mail and demand states change some election rules.

The grassroots effort has grown out of existing programs — the Election Protection coalition has been operating since 2000 — but interest from volunteers is particularly high this year, organizers from several groups said.

“Voters are responding to the moment that we’re in right now,” said Saige Draeger, a senior policy associate at Verified Voting, a nonprofit that advises states on the use of voting technology and is part of the Election Protection coalition. “I think they feel like it’s incumbent upon everybody to make sure this election goes smoothly.”

In Arizona, an epicenter of Republican efforts to deny the 2020 election results, partisan tensions have long been high, and residents cite concerns about potential political violence surrounding the election.

Now, election denialism is on the ballot: The Republican nominees for governor, secretary of state and attorney general each played a role in Trump’s denial of the 2020 results. Alex Kolodin, the Republican candidate for secretary of state, filed lawsuits challenging the 2020 election results.

The outcome of the race could be consequential for the 2028 election, because secretaries of state play a key role in certifying their states’ results, and presidential elections can come down to a single swing state. Along with the Arizona race, those in Nevada, Michigan and Georgia are being closely watched by pro-democracy groups.

Arizona Gov. Katie Hobbs signs a commemorative bill before a game between the Arizona Diamondbacks and the Texas Rangers at Chase Field on Sept. 3, 2025, in Phoenix.

(Norm Hall / Getty Images)

On street corners, the campaign signs for Kolodin and Secretary of State Adrian Fontes, the Democratic incumbent, duel: “Protect every vote,” say Kolodin’s. “Protect your vote,” Fontes’ read.

Organizers focused on election protection efforts stress that the goal is to ensure every voter casts their vote and the person who gets the most votes is declared the winner — all regardless of political party.

“With the level of polarization that we have nationally right now, people might mistake and think that calling for a free, fair, democratic election is somehow partisan,” said Hardy Merriman, an organizer with the Hold the Line project, which has recruited about 650 volunteers to ask their local leaders to sign on to a pledge affirming they back free and fair elections. “It’s really important for actors to get off the sidelines … and say, no, actually it’s not.”

The mission of the poll monitors is to answer voters’ procedural questions, ensure no one is incorrectly turned away from voting and provide a friendly nonpartisan face — “be a peaceful presence,” Moore said. They can help voters navigate state laws — in Arizona, for instance, a requirement to show an approved form of identification when voting.

The monitors are also trained to call the attorney-staffed hotline to report anything out of the ordinary: long lines that may deter people from voting, people being turned away from the polls, aggressive electioneering from partisans outside the polling place or law enforcement showing up at voting locations.

Monitors trained through the Election Protection coalition will be stationed in 40 states and the District of Columbia, while about 3,000 legal professionals will be staffing the hotline, said Camille Wimbish, national director of campaigns and field programs for the Election Protection coalition, which is a project of the Lawyers’ Committee for Civil Rights Under Law.

“It gives voters reassurance that there is someone who has their back at voting locations,” Wimbish said. “It also just shows our determination as a community to stand up and say that we care about our elections, we want election day to be a joyful, peaceful, celebratory experience for all of us.”

PJ Boone-Edgerton Longoni, 70, who attended Moore’s mid-October training in Chandler at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, said the idea of poll monitoring made her a little nervous, but she believes there is a “high-stakes need” for citizens to show up.

“I want to be a support,” she said. “All this misinformation gets people not to trust anything, and that lack of trust causes things to fall apart — because democracy is based on trust.”

Come Election Day, a Quaker leader will travel from the nation’s capital to her home state of Ohio. A Christian minister and a Jewish rabbi will stand vigil outside a polling place in Arizona. A Buddhist nun will offer support to voters in Wisconsin.

In battleground states across the country, these faith leaders and hundreds of their colleagues will assume the role of poll chaplains for one day. They will deploy to nine states — Arizona, Michigan, Georgia, Ohio, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Wisconsin, Virginia and Texas — where contentious races are expected to raise political tensions.

Faiths United in Saving Democracy, a nonpartisan coalition of interfaith and secular partners, is helping to train and certify this volunteer force of clergy members and lay peacekeepers in time for the Nov. 3 elections.

They’ll wear identifying hats and vests, and stay outside the poll centers, with the goal of maintaining a calm, reassuring presence to encourage more voters to exercise their rights without fear or hesitation, said co-founder Barbara Williams-Skinner. As of Oct. 19, they’ve recruited 1,235 poll chaplains and peacekeepers, she said.

A non-partisan effort to take the fear out of voting

While the idea of poll chaplains has been around for several years, Williams-Skinner said “2026 is going to be different” because there is widespread concern that the presence of federal immigration agents could create a chilling effect.

“The fear is real,” she says, worrying that it could deter eligible voters in mixed-immigration-status families and communities of color. Department of Homeland Security officials have consistently said they have no plans to send immigration agents to the polls, although DHS Secretary Markwayne Mullin said they could show up for a specific reason, such as arresting someone if they have a warrant.

The coalition has offered training online and in person. Participants get information about immigrant rights, de-escalation techniques and phone numbers to call in tight situations, Williams-Skinner said.

The initiative, strongly rooted in the Black church, has expanded to include diverse faiths as well as non-religious people, she said.

“This is a movement built by unusual coalitions,” she said. “You have white, Mainline Protestants, Quakers, traditional Baptists, Black church leaders, imams, rabbis — all kinds of people who probably would not work together or haven’t worked together in the past.”

While most participating groups are moderate or progressive, Williams-Skinner says it is a strictly nonpartisan initiative.

“We don’t get hung up on who’s moderate or who’s conservative. People just need to be able to vote, unafraid,” she said.

Concerns about voter intimidation motivate chaplains

A Pew survey following the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk in September 2025 showed 85% of Americans, across political lines, believe political violence is on the rise.

Polling places have been targeted by protesters in past elections. In 2022, members of a group claiming to monitor ballot drop boxes in Arizona were ordered to stay at least 250 feet away after voters complained about intimidation. In 2020, following Election Day, a crowd stormed a vote-counting center in Detroit, many incited by online conspiracy theories about election fraud.

As the mob banged on the center’s doors and windows, the Rev. Steve Bland was among several faith leaders who put their bodies between the building and the crowd. Bland, who leads Detroit’s Liberty Temple Baptist Church, is continuing that work as a poll chaplain.

The pastor says de-escalation often involves “using the right words to calm a situation” or giving intimidated voters the moral support and reassurance that they are safe to exercise their civic right. Bland said he did precisely that for an elderly, Black woman during a prior election.

“She left and came back with two of her grandsons who also voted,” he said. “Without that intervention, three people wouldn’t have voted that day.”

The Rev. Bankole Akinbinu, senior pastor of Baptist Grove Church in Raleigh, North Carolina, said training in conflict resolution and de-escalation has given him the confidence to serve as a poll chaplain. A millennial, he has sought to engage younger people by recruiting peacekeepers from college campuses.

His motivation comes from seeing voter suppression attempts in North Carolina and other states.

“I look at our forefathers and the struggle they had to endure to afford us the privilege of voting,” Akinbinu said. “I look at my children and the nation I want to hand them.”

Steven Huefner, deputy director of the Election Law Program at The Ohio State University, says poll chaplains might be able to calm the frayed nerves of a voting public that is constantly exposed to divisive rhetoric and news about political violence. While political violence has increased, he says, it’s not widespread.

“Election workers are well-trained and can run elections quite well,” he said.

Faith leaders have historically played the role of peacekeepers, said Wendy Cadge, professor of sociology at Bryn Mawr College in Pennsylvania and founder of the think tank Chaplaincy Innovation Lab.

And now chaplaincy — beyond traditional worship spaces — is attracting more clergy.

“People are feeling called to chaplaincy because they want to be with people in difficult times,” Cadge said. “They don’t want to worry about what color the carpet is in the church or if their youth programs are attracting enough people. It’s a different kind of work.”

Chaplains find inspiration in theology

Clergy deploying on Election Day say they are heeding a strong, faith-driven calling to serve as poll chaplains.

In Arizona, Rev. Katie Sexton, executive director of Arizona Faith Network, embraces the initiative as a way to reach across the political divide.

“The ballot box is a place where we’re all seen as equal,” she said, adding that it reflects the Christian belief that all humans are created in the image of God. “There is such power in that.”

On Oct. 6, Sexton and several others participated in a training session — one of the last before the midterms — at Temple Chai, a Reform synagogue in Scottsdale.

Rabbi Emily Segal, who leads the congregation, will be a poll chaplain for the first time next month. The work, she says, aligns with what the Torah and Talmud teach about a healthy and just society.

Throughout American history, interfaith coalitions have created powerful change and served as sources of inspiration, Segal said. “Any time we can come together with faith partners around our shared values for societal good is a real source of holiness for our community.”

Bridget Moix, a Quaker leader, will travel to her native Ohio on Election Day.

“In our faith tradition, we think about voting as a sacred act we want to protect,” she said.

For Reirin Gumbel, resident teacher at the Milwaukee Zen Center, it’ll be a third time, come November.

“As Buddhists, the Metta Sutra we chant says every being has the same rights, and that we should have compassion toward all,” she said.

Imam Mohammed Ali Elahi, spiritual leader of the Islamic House of Wisdom in Dearborn Heights, Michigan, is considering becoming a poll chaplain for the first time. In a highly contentious campaign in Elahi’s state, Abdul El-Sayed is the first Muslim Democratic candidate to run for a U.S. Senate seat.

The imam said he is tired of anti-Muslim vitriol that has surfaced ahead of the midterms.

“As interfaith clergy, we stand for principles not personalities,” he said. “The Quran tells us to stand for what’s right — truth, justice, peace, human rights and the dignity of human beings, whoever they may be.”

Bharath writes for the Associated Press.

PHOENIX — The U.S. Supreme Court has refused to toss out $122,000 in legal costs that lawyers for former Arizona gubernatorial candidate Kari Lake were ordered to pay for false and misleading statements they made in a lawsuit that sought to require a hand-count of all ballots in the 2022 midterm elections.

The nation’s highest court on Tuesday denied a request from Andrew D. Parker, an attorney who represented Lake in the lawsuit, to review a lower-court decision over the legal costs arising from the unsuccessful litigation.

The lawsuit by Lake and state lawmaker Mark Finchem sought to ban electronic tabulation devices. It was dismissed by a judge who found Lake and Finchem lacked standing to sue and that their lawsuit was filed too close to the election.

In 2022, Lake lost the governor’s race to Democrat Katie Hobbs and Finchem was defeated in the secretary of state’s race by Democrat Andrian Fontes. Both Republicans had promoted the narrative that the 2020 election was marred by fraud.

Maricopa County had sought sanctions against Lake, Finchem and their lawyers, alleging they broke a court rule by making unfounded allegations and by not conducting the necessary research before filing the lawsuit.

U.S. District Judge John Tuchi later concluded the lawsuit’s claims lacked an adequate basis in fact, that the standard inquiry attorneys must make before pressing litigation hadn’t been done and that the lawyers acted recklessly in seeking a court order based on frivolous claims.

The requirement to pay the legal fees applies to the lawyers who pressed the lawsuit, not to Lake and Finchem.

The 9th Circuit Court of Appeals rejected appeals over the lawsuit’s dismissal and the awarding of the legal fees.

The Associated Press left phone and email messages Tuesday for Parker, whose firm is based in Minneapolis.

Earlier this year, Parker asked the Supreme Court to throw out the requirement to pay Maricopa County’s legal fees in the case, arguing such sanctions would deter attorneys from bringing aggressive or novel legal claims.

Maricopa County said lawyers for Lake and Finchem had disregarded a letter that identified false allegations they had made in their lawsuit and relied on some of those claims in a later court filing. The county’s attorneys said those who brought the lawsuit failed to present evidence to support their allegations and falsely alleged that Arizona didn’t use paper ballots and that its electronic voting systems hadn’t been subjected to expert analysis.

Billeaud writes for the Associated Press.

Oct. 8, 2026 11:31 AM PT

PHOENIX — An Arizona congressional candidate says she was knocked unconscious and sexually assaulted this summer when repairing campaign signs overnight.

Bernadette Greene-Placentia told investigators that two men raped her, and she kicked her feet up at one point to try to fight back. She said she felt the weight of one of her attackers on her body, and had bruises on her arms from being held down, a bump on her head and other injuries, according to police reports.

“I knew that I had been knocked out,” Greene-Placentia told the Associated Press on Wednesday.

Greene-Placentia, 52, is a Democrat who is challenging incumbent Republican Rep. Abe Hamadeh for the 8th Congressional District seat representing parts of metro Phoenix that are reliably red. She said she told her husband and campaign staff about the mid-August attack in Sun City days after it happened. The Phoenix New Times first reported on it Wednesday.

Greene-Placentia told the AP she was disgusted that two men took control of her body and she had no say in it. She said she decided to speak out publicly when she realized she was telling voters she would advocate for them when she was not advocating for herself.

“My takeaway is that I have a lot more empathy and understanding of why so many women don’t come forward,” she said. “And, and I’m hoping that I can encourage them.”

Greene-Placentia said she couldn’t recall many details of the Aug. 14 assault, including the exact location or a description of the men, though she said one wore black boots and had small feet. She told investigators one of the men used an expletive to describe her, and she believes he referenced her political party.

The Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office declined to comment on its investigation of the attack.

Greene-Placentia is a former long-haul trucker and later ran a small transportation company, according to her campaign.

In a social media post supporting Democrat Pete Buttigieg’s 2020 run for the presidency, Greene-Placentia called herself a former Republican and a “never Trumper,” and said she voted Libertarian in 2016. Greene-Placentia later became more engaged in Arizona Democratic politics.

She said she often put up and repaired campaign signs overnight because it was cooler than the blistering summer days and there was less traffic.

Arizona Democratic Party treasurer Greg Freeman said he got a call from Greene-Placentia, a friend who ran his 2024 campaign for a county assessor, the morning of Aug. 17. She told him she had been sexually assaulted by two men, Freeman said, and he could tell she wasn’t ready to go to the police or share it publicly.

“Obviously she was processing it on the phone,” Freeman said. “She was just in shock. She was just horrified by what happened.”

Greene-Placentia said she wishes she had called police immediately and gone to the hospital. After the attack, she took multiple showers and washed the clothes she was wearing, police reports state.

The embarrassment and anger made it hard for her to come forward, she said. She reported the attack to police in late August.

Billeaud and Yu write for the Associated Press.