Part 3 of a 5 part series
Karen and I invited the crowd to come by our house after the disappointing Commission meeting. We lived close by the Township offices. We stopped by the local State Liquor Store to pick up a case of Iron City beer. Our living/dining room and stairway to the second floor soon filled. We railed at the "Double Cross." We lamented that our Township Commissioner's action had blown all of the commitments made by the neighboring communities. We were ashamed and angry. The Ross Township Commissioners had trashed the entire library effort by planting two "poison pills" in their legislative action. The first was the requirement that a majority of the voters must vote in favor of forming a regional library. The second was that the voters must vote to double their real estate taxes. The situation appeared hopeless.
I sat on the floor, listening to the rambling, sometimes tearful conversations. I became apprehensive that the general despair might lead everyone to abandon our library project. I did not participate in the discussion, but I had some ideas. I wanted to discuss my thoughts with my wife, Karen, later. Still, I realized it might be impossible to reassemble this group. Speak now or forever hold my peace. Without thinking, I blurted out, "Why don't we just win it?" [the referendum]. I may have spoken sharply; I certainly caught everyone's attention. Although I was a largely unknown voice in the crowd, they recognized me as Karen's spouse. They gave me the floor to speak.
I responded, "Two thoughts; one is that if we all leave believing the library idea is a lost cause, it probably is. But I had some college courses in government and political science and learned that whatever the odds, never say never. I don't have a specific plan in mind, but I suggest that we regroup here a week from now to do some serious brainstorming. I'll dig out my old textbooks and talk to some "Old Pols" (old political hands) I know. Maybe we can devise a plan". The response was electric and immediate; "Yeah, let's do it!"
The crowd broke up with a torrent of "Thank You" and "See You Next Week." Karen and I found a couple of overlooked bottles of Iron City Beer and began searching through the boxes of college memorabilia, still unpacked from our move from Kansas to Pittsburgh nearly five years before. I found my well-thumbed, annotated political science textbooks and, surprisingly, several notebooks filled with detailed notes of class discussions and concepts introduced by my incredible instructor, Dr. Douglas. I thought we were on to something here, and I looked forward to the meeting next week.
The first year we lived in Pittsburgh, we moved from our rental unit in the South Hills across the City to a temporary townhouse rental in the North Hills. Our new home in Ross Township was under construction.
With my Volkwagon "Bug" towing a tiny trailer loaded with boxes of household items, I made the trip to the new rental unit on a cold, gray day in March 1960. A few rain drops began to fall just as I arrived at the townhouse, and I grabbed a couple of boxes and ran inside. I stopped briefly to check the premises and raced back to get more boxes. I was startled when I got to the front door to meet three women, each carrying my boxes in their arms. The first shouted, "I'm Mrs. Jones, can't stop for introductions, we need to get you moved in before it starts to pour!"
We quickly unloaded the trailer. Mrs. Jones reintroduced herself and the two younger women, my new neighbors. She continued, "Your VW Bug has what appears to be a new Pennsylvania license plate and a "Kansas State Wildcat" sticker on your back window. So I'm guessing you recently finished college in Manhattan, Kansas, which I know is very close to Abilene, Kansas, the birthplace of "Kansas' Favorite Son, President Dwight Eisenhower. So, what's your name, where were you raised, and are my assumptions correct?"
I responded that my name was Keith and that I was born and raised in the county adjacent to President Eisenhower's home. I confirmed her assumptions were correct on all counts. She immediately responded, "that being the case, I will tell you that I am the Republican Party Committee Woman for this Precinct and that I take my duty to register new voters quite seriously. I'm going to assume that you have not yet registered to vote in Pennsylvania, certainly not at this address, and you be will happy to join with your new neighbors, all members of the GOP (Grand Old Party; acronym for Republican Party)," To the delight of all I replied, "But of course!"
Our new neighbor friends insisted we join them for dinner, a much appreciated, delightful welcome to our new home. We soon became good friends, but our residency there was a short four months because we then moved to our new home in Ross Township. I lost contact with Mrs. Jones when we moved away.
To win the library vote, I knew I needed real-world advice in addition to the material I had gleaned from reviewing my college material. I immediately thought of Mrs. Jones, whom I had not seen or spoken with for five years, so I located her phone number and called. Much to my surprise, she immediately remembered me. After I quickly outlined my reason for calling, she suggested I come for coffee and meet with her and Mrs. Jones. I was more than bewildered by the end of her invitation but managed to reply. "Aaaaaaa, but I thought I was speaking to Mrs. Jones...." She enjoyed my apparent confusion and laughingly replied that the second Mrs. Jones was her good friend and competitor, the Democratic Party Committeewoman of their mutual Precinct.
I joined the two Mrs. Jones for coffee the next day, an experience I value to this day. I not only learned how to win an "impossible" race but how these two remarkable women perceived and accomplished their responsibilities as Precinct Chair Committee Women. They were fierce partisan competitors, but above all else, they viewed their primary responsibility as serving their constituent community. That is, getting their community to participate fully and meaningfully in democracy. There was no animosity between the two women. They reached out to all residents, persuaded them to register to vote, and recruited tens of dozens of volunteer block and building assistants.
I remembered my experience five years previously when I first met Mrs. Jones from the Republican Party. My townhouse neighbors knew one of the units was vacant, so they watched carefully for signs of activity and alerted Mrs. Jones when I arrived with a load of boxes. Mrs. Jones, who lived a short distance away, dropped whatever she was doing to help me move in and welcome me to the community. Ordinarily, her assistants would have recruited me to "the team." Still, Mrs. Jones couldn't resist the fun of signing me up, given her unique insights into my background.
The two Mrs. Jones did not view recruiting as the full extent of their service. They not only methodically registered virtually every eligible voter in their Precinct but also did everything in their power to get every voter to the polls on every election day. They understood that while most registered voters would vote in a presidential race, far fewer would turn out for a local election. Fewer would vote for "down-ballot" candidates even if the voter had full knowledge of who or what they were voting for and why. A "down ballot" candidate is a candidate for an office listed further down and below the most important (typically national) office on a ballot. The two Mrs. Jones each built organizations of knowledgeable, committed folks scattered throughout the Precinct. These volunteers provided information and assistance to voters and helped them to the polling locations. This work created informed voters who voted consistently and entirely in every election. In short, they were making democracy work.
How could we use this valuable experience to win a library referendum? Could we make democracy work?
06162022A3/5
Join us next week for Chapter 4 of this month's series - A Toolbox for Life.
This week's blog story is part of a month-long story. To view past installments and other stories, please visit our blog, Learn-Engage-Empower Learn-Engage-Empower, at im4u.world and subscribe to get the stories delivered directly.
This story is among many that inspired us to create im4u.world.
Comentarios