The second presidential election in which I could vote was, for me, THE election of my lifetime. It signalled both the start and end of my politically active life. By 1972, my anger over the Viet Nam war peaked. I thought that when Nixon was elected, he had the perfect opportunity to get us out of the war quickly. He could have blamed it on the Democrats (although it was actually Ike who first sent troops there) and characterized it as a mistake which was too damaging to our country, economically, morally, and politically divisive more than anything since the Civil War.
But Nixon didn't want to be the first American president to "lose" a war. That characterization might be debatable, but still. Nixon could have convinced his base and by pulling out, could have drawn a huge number of folks on the left to support him. I personally believed that Nixon was putting his own ambition and ego ahead of the nation's welfare.
July 13, 1970, my childhood best friend (and still at that time my best friend) Larry D. Engebretson was killed by small arms fire in Viet Nam. Larry spent Thanksgiving with us at our home in Nampa, Idaho in November of 1969. He left our place just after Thanksgiving to spend the rest of his leave with his mother in Seattle, and shipped out to "Disneyland East" December 3. I have a vivid memory of standing in the Boise airport, holding my little two year old daughter's hand and watching Larry's plane take off. I knew in that moment I'd never see him again.
He served in an infantry unit, and sent me numerous letters full of his anxiety. I still have the letters. They're inundated with red dust and are painful even to see, much less to read.
He told me horror stories in those letters, one story about a tank running over a man in his unit, another about one U.S. soldier killing another in a fight over a Playboy magazine. He really didn't mention the enemy. Sometime around the 20th of July, I was at work -- I was a store manager for a regional chain of variety stores, and had just transferred to Madera, California-- when my mother called me. She said, "Are you sitting down?" I thought that she was going to tell me something had happened to my dad, when she said Larry had been killed.
I had to get some emergency time off, and flew to my hometown in Montana via San Francisco, Salt Lake City and Missoula. I had long layovers at every stop. Another friend of ours met me in Missoula to drive the rest of the way to Kalispell, our home town. We witnessed an accident on the way and stopped to help. We didn't arrive until 5:00 AM and had to be at the funeral home, as we were honorary pallbearers, at 7:30 or 8:00. The funeral was held July 26, 1970, and a half-inch of snow fell on the cemetery during the service. I watched his casket in the falling snow as the bugler played taps and the rifles fired, and my mind and heart were filled with so much anger and so many questions and so much confusion as I can't adequately describe.
So in 1972, Nixon was running for reelection. I held him personally responsible for my best friend's death. Several people opposed him, but George McGovern was the grassroots favorite.
McGovern was a senator from South Dakota, a populist liberal Democrat. He briefly put his hat in the ring after Bobby Kennedy's death in 68, and made news by announcing his candidacy for 72 two years before the election. Now of course, that's fairly commonplace.
McGovern was head of a committee that was formed in the aftermath of the 68 Democratic convention to try to make the nomination process more inclusive and to get away from the smoke filled room/good old boy methods of the past. The McGovern committee came up with a plan that would elect the delegates from each state based upon primary elections, while still retaining so-called superdelegates, or established party leaders as part of the delegation. The old guard didn't like the new plan.
McGovern did very well in the primaries. I became interested in his antiwar stance, and took the time to visit his headquarters in Fresno to ask questions about his other positions. I got a lot of answers, and when the staff couldn't answer one question, they did the research and called me to give me the answer. I was impressed with this, satisfied with the answers. My wife and I, having been encouraged by the staff at the headquarters office, decided to volunteer for McGovern.
My wife was pregnant with our son. We were campaigning for the California primary in May and June, and our son was born in August. She wasn't really capable of walking around door to door, so she did her work on the telephone. I went out evenings and weekends and rang doorbells, handed out literature, and answered questions. We were a young, enthusiastic, energetic group. Many of the workers cut their long hair and donned suits, as we lived in Madera county, which was quite conservative. McGovern won the California primary, and to our delight, won Madera county.
I remember the poll watching party the night of the primary. It was held at an old farm out in the country. It was owned by some hippies, and throughout the party, they were going out in the field and harvesting pot, drying it in the kitchen oven, and the sweet smell of marahoochie was everywhere. They had a live band set up in the living room playing mostly Stones songs, particularly "Sympathy for the Devil." Woo Hoo.
Anyway, McGovern won the nomination, but his campaign fell apart. There's a whole sickening story about what Sen. Tom Eagleton did to the campaign. You can find it here. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Novak Read the section on "Amnesty, Abortion, and Acid." Treachery and dishonesty have always been a part of DC life.
On a local level, we grassroots workers were shut out of the general election campaign. Sadly, the truth didn't get out. A lot of people thought McGovern was a wild eyed radical, and I still hear people characterize him that way. I have some old position papers from the 72 campaign that illustrate that McGovern was not at all radical. He would have ended the war immediately. He advocated a type of refundable tax credit almost exactly like the earned income credit enacted in 1975, which grew out of the Republican led welfare reform movement in the early 1970s. His other proposals were equally sensible and well grounded.
I believe that if McGovern's campaign hadn't been sabotaged by the party leaders and Eagleton, he might have won a dozen or 14 states. Clearly, he wouldn't have won against Nixon, but it wouldn't have been a huge landslide, either. If that had occurred, after Nixon's fall in 74 and the subsequent disaster for Republicans, I think McGovern, and not Carter, would have won the presidency in 76. I also believe McGovern would have governed well and would have served two terms, in effect eliminating the opportunity for Reagan to win in 80. Had that happened, we would not have elected either George Bush, and we wouldn't be in the place we're in today.
A lot of coulda woulda shouldas, but still . . .
My wife and I finally met George McGovern a few years ago, when he was the keynote speaker for the Montana Bar Association dinner. We wore old campaign buttons on our suits, and when he saw us at the cocktail party before dinner, he made a beeline across the room to introduce himself to us. We didn't have much of a chance to talk then, but after dinner we went up to the dais to thank him for his talk. He engaged us in a conversation for over 20 minutes on a wide range of subjects. When we left, he kissed my wife on the lips. She was thrilled. I mean come on. The guy's over 80 years old, and he gets more of a reaction than I ever do. What's wrong with that picture?
Anyway, that was the start and finish of my active career in politics. I've never gotten excited about any candidate like that again. I am happy to see younger people so energized over Obama's campaign this year, though, including my own children and grandchildren. It's been a lot of years since I've seen so much excitement over a political campaign. That excitement is something that's been sadly lacking in American politics for many years. It's about time.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Chapter the First
I may as well give this a try. I've heard so much about blogging, and read so many now that I figure what the hell? What have I got to lose but time and dignity.
It's now just a little over a week until the big election. I have to say, this has been the most interesting political campaign season of my life. I started out last year saying that I didn't care who was elected, we were bound to be better off. We could elect a monkey and he would be more effective in the job, and probably do less damage. I've changed my perspective though, and now I'm rooting for Mr. O.
I've been following politics since I was quite young. When only a wee lad, I was a big fan of cowboy movies and tv shows. One of the networks had been promoting a live western drama on U.S. Steel Hour and I was looking forward to it with great anticipation. The night of the broadcast, the show was preempted by an address to the nation by President Eisenhower, so because the telecast was live, it was cancelled, I think permanently.
I was steamed. I asked my mom, "Is President Eisenhower a democrat or a republican?" She said he was a republican, and I replied, "Then I'm a democrat." And that's how my lifelong political affiliation began.
There were other reasons, though. My grandpa believed that Herbert Hoover was the devil incarnate, and that FDR was the Second Coming. My Uncle Loris, who I adored, used to say, "Don't bother about worrying who to vote for. Just vote straight Democrat and you won't go wrong." So I came by it honestly.
When I was only 9 years old or so, I enjoyed going to my grandparents' house (next door to ours) and visiting with my grandpa in the evening. He'd be reading the newspaper after dinner, and got in the habit of pointing out articles to me. He'd have me read the piece, then ask me, "What do you think about this, Hat?" (He called me Hat.) I'd say, "Aw, I don't know, Grandpa," but he'd push me and push me until I offered some opinion. Then he'd argue with me.
It didn't matter what opinion I'd put forth, he'd always argue the opposite. He taught me two things through this almost nightly ritual: to pay attention to and think about current events, and to love to argue just for the sake of arguing. Little wonder I eventually became a lawyer.
Since I started out so young, by the time I was voting age (21 in those days) my excitement about voting had reached a fever pitch. Unfortunately, I came of age in the heat of the Viet Nam war controversy. The first presidential election in which I could vote was in 1968. I'd been an ardent Kennedy admirer like so many of my generation, and in many respects thought highly of Lyndon Johnson. When it came to his Viet Nam policy though, we parted company.
I was strongly against the war. I believed it was a moral lapse on the part of the U.S. Early on, I felt a kind of abstract opposition that grew in intensity the longer the war went on. LBJ escalated the war the summer of 1965, which was the summer after my first year of college. Since I'd mostly majored in beer, and was not interested in education, only in playing music, I hadn't done well in college, and like an idiot, dropped out in the fall of 1965, leaving myself vulnerable to the draft.
Due to the efforts of my mother, my childhood doctor, and a recruiting sergeant (a story for another time) I managed to end up with a 1Y classification and (lucky for the Army) avoided the draft. Many of my friends were being drafted though, and the nightly casualty reports were causing my opposition to the war to intensify. I'd gotten married in 1966 and had a child the next year, and in 68 we'd suffered through the agony of the King and RFK assassinations. Feelings ran so high I can't really describe it.
Anyway, when it came time to vote that year, I was faced with an impossible situation. Because I was so opposed to the Johnson war policy and was convinced that Hubert Humphrey would continue with more of the same, I could not bring myself to vote for him, Democrat or no. Obviously, I could never vote for Richard Nixon, so what to do? In the end, I did as about 300,000 of my fellow Americans did. I wrote in Pat Paulsen for president. For the majority of you who have no idea who that was, all I can say is "Look it up."
Pat Paulsen was a comedian featured on the very popular and controversial Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour. He did a running gag routine in 68 of running for president saying he thought he was as qualified as the other comedians who were running. I checked, and there are some old videos of him on Youtube. Check them out. http://technorati.com/videos/youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DCDmvhQ-aZEE
So anyway, in that year of an immoral war, police riots at the Democratic convention, two horrible assassinations, and only a year before Kent State, I cast my first presidential vote for a comedian . . . and I'm still proud of it.
Catch you next time. Drink to absent friends.
It's now just a little over a week until the big election. I have to say, this has been the most interesting political campaign season of my life. I started out last year saying that I didn't care who was elected, we were bound to be better off. We could elect a monkey and he would be more effective in the job, and probably do less damage. I've changed my perspective though, and now I'm rooting for Mr. O.
I've been following politics since I was quite young. When only a wee lad, I was a big fan of cowboy movies and tv shows. One of the networks had been promoting a live western drama on U.S. Steel Hour and I was looking forward to it with great anticipation. The night of the broadcast, the show was preempted by an address to the nation by President Eisenhower, so because the telecast was live, it was cancelled, I think permanently.
I was steamed. I asked my mom, "Is President Eisenhower a democrat or a republican?" She said he was a republican, and I replied, "Then I'm a democrat." And that's how my lifelong political affiliation began.
There were other reasons, though. My grandpa believed that Herbert Hoover was the devil incarnate, and that FDR was the Second Coming. My Uncle Loris, who I adored, used to say, "Don't bother about worrying who to vote for. Just vote straight Democrat and you won't go wrong." So I came by it honestly.
When I was only 9 years old or so, I enjoyed going to my grandparents' house (next door to ours) and visiting with my grandpa in the evening. He'd be reading the newspaper after dinner, and got in the habit of pointing out articles to me. He'd have me read the piece, then ask me, "What do you think about this, Hat?" (He called me Hat.) I'd say, "Aw, I don't know, Grandpa," but he'd push me and push me until I offered some opinion. Then he'd argue with me.
It didn't matter what opinion I'd put forth, he'd always argue the opposite. He taught me two things through this almost nightly ritual: to pay attention to and think about current events, and to love to argue just for the sake of arguing. Little wonder I eventually became a lawyer.
Since I started out so young, by the time I was voting age (21 in those days) my excitement about voting had reached a fever pitch. Unfortunately, I came of age in the heat of the Viet Nam war controversy. The first presidential election in which I could vote was in 1968. I'd been an ardent Kennedy admirer like so many of my generation, and in many respects thought highly of Lyndon Johnson. When it came to his Viet Nam policy though, we parted company.
I was strongly against the war. I believed it was a moral lapse on the part of the U.S. Early on, I felt a kind of abstract opposition that grew in intensity the longer the war went on. LBJ escalated the war the summer of 1965, which was the summer after my first year of college. Since I'd mostly majored in beer, and was not interested in education, only in playing music, I hadn't done well in college, and like an idiot, dropped out in the fall of 1965, leaving myself vulnerable to the draft.
Due to the efforts of my mother, my childhood doctor, and a recruiting sergeant (a story for another time) I managed to end up with a 1Y classification and (lucky for the Army) avoided the draft. Many of my friends were being drafted though, and the nightly casualty reports were causing my opposition to the war to intensify. I'd gotten married in 1966 and had a child the next year, and in 68 we'd suffered through the agony of the King and RFK assassinations. Feelings ran so high I can't really describe it.
Anyway, when it came time to vote that year, I was faced with an impossible situation. Because I was so opposed to the Johnson war policy and was convinced that Hubert Humphrey would continue with more of the same, I could not bring myself to vote for him, Democrat or no. Obviously, I could never vote for Richard Nixon, so what to do? In the end, I did as about 300,000 of my fellow Americans did. I wrote in Pat Paulsen for president. For the majority of you who have no idea who that was, all I can say is "Look it up."
Pat Paulsen was a comedian featured on the very popular and controversial Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour. He did a running gag routine in 68 of running for president saying he thought he was as qualified as the other comedians who were running. I checked, and there are some old videos of him on Youtube. Check them out. http://technorati.com/videos/youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DCDmvhQ-aZEE
So anyway, in that year of an immoral war, police riots at the Democratic convention, two horrible assassinations, and only a year before Kent State, I cast my first presidential vote for a comedian . . . and I'm still proud of it.
Catch you next time. Drink to absent friends.
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