The first time I went door knocking was for Gene McCarthy in late March, 1968. I rode a yellow school bus filled with other college kids from the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis to Wausau, Wisconsin. Oh, we were green and enthusiastic. It was fun to walk up to strangers' doors and drop off leaflets.
The best part of the trip happened on the way home. In the dark of night on I94 we heard on a little transistor radio that Lyndon Johnson had announced he would not run for president again. We were elated, but did not realize it would lead to Dick Nixon. Lordie, Dick Nixon.
Flash forward forty years. I've been a volunteer for our local state representative, Al Doty. Walked in three parades and after being briefed on Wednesday about the dos and don'ts of door knocking, I'll be out there again, especially if I can get rid of a plantar's wort on the ball of my left foot. (Hate those things.)
But, being much older, wiser (paranoid?), the prospect of walking up to a stranger's door in a largely independent and pretty conservative area has me nervous about what I'll find on the other sides of those doors. Ever been in the same position?
Read More