Born before the Great Depression my father's childhood ended in 1929. He was 10 years old and managed to pass through the sixth grade before picking up a shovel and began delivering coal in order to help put food on the family table. He was a hard worker then and never stopped until his heart gave out at the age of 89 years.
He wasn't home much to see my sister and me, but he would wake us every night around 2 a.m. when he came home from work to give us a kiss and to say, "I love you."
He was a very moral man. Never cheated anyone and had friends from the wealthy to those near the gutter of life. Brought home his pay check every week and even helped my mother do house chores when he had a few hours off. An educated man? No. Intelligent with enough common sense to make professors hide their faces in shame.
During World War II he served in the Navy and helped pick up the bodies on the beaches of the Pacific. He was wounded in action. He was a boxer in his early life and faced life like it was the ring itself. An honorable man who didn't have time for religion until after he retired.
But even though he was many things, he was a Democrat. He showed me the way to be one too with discussions at an old railroad diner every Saturday morning at 3 a.m.
I paraphrase what he told me in this diary.
Dad worked as a bar keeper for most of his life. Although he never drank until he celebrated his 50th birthday and then had a few to see what it was like. I asked him once why he didn't drink. He looked at me and said, "Drinking a little is fine. But, I see the effects of it every day on my friends. So, I figured it was smarter not to even start." Smart man, my dad.
The Great Depression made him a Democrat, as he told it. He didn't cotton to men who used others as they would a piece of furniture to be worn down and then discarded like trash. My mom was a Democrat too. I grew up in the late 1940's and 1950's. People down on their luck were known as Hobos back then. One time a man came to our door. I remember he was clean, but his clothes were tattered. He asked if my mom had any chores he could do for some lunch. My mom put him to work cleaning up the yard while she fixed him lemonade and sandwiches (plus some to take with him). She gave him a pair of my dad's pants and took his and mended them. As the man left, she gave him some socks, some razor blades and three dollars. I remember asking her why she did all that and she grabbed me by my arm, tossed me into the kitchen chair and proceeded to tell me that Americans took care of each other and that if I didn't think it couldn't happen to me, I was being an idiot. She never said "Democrat," but I got the message.
I never knew we were poor, but I guess we were. Today, I would say that we were just at the beginning of the upper end of poverty back then. Always had enough to eat and we had an old, but comfortable house. My parents would get me toys and things, but never a lot of them. They made me play outside with boxes and boards and expected me to get dirty. And I did, every day.
Dad was soft-spoken usually, but had a great sense of humor. I remember one of our middle of the night forays to the railroad diner, when he said, "I want you to know what an American is and why your mom and I are Democrats." He never looked me in the eye, but started talking low and my ears strained to listen to him.
"American. That's what you are, ya know. It is important that you remember that, cause life is hard and always will be. Now, listen good. Always try your best. When you do, you can't fail. Oh, you'll be of the opinion that you fail sometimes, but that ain't true. You might not be successful, but you should never think you failed. Only a fool thinks that."
I actually remember we were eating bacon, eggs and pancakes that night. Dad liked pancakes. He still didn't look at me, though and continued on with his talk...
"You are learning in school that there are two political parties. I am a Democrat. I hope you will be too. There is a difference between the two parties. You'll figure out what Republicans are as you grow older. Now, Democrats, believe in working hard and being free and happy. They also take care of each other when times get tough and when times are good...we call that taking care of your neighbors. Stand on your own two feet, but if you fall, Democrats will be the first to help you get back up. Republicans don't do that. They don't need anyone else."
Dad ordered me a milkshake at 4 a.m. Imagine, a milkshake after eating bacon, eggs and pancakes!
"You'll learn about these things as you get older. Just remember that being American is special, because we are the only country to have blended all the different peoples. We all came from somewhere else, but made our own ethnicity known as American. Democrats always think about the poor before doing anything. If it hurts the poor, it is wrong. Sounds simple, but it ain't. Democrats want everyone to succeed and they share so that everyone has a chance in life. They believe in being one." (He was talking about E Pluribus Unum, I was to later learn).
"Dream big, but live modestly. Always help others, even if you have to have less for yourself doing it. Americans do that and you are an American. Lots of people have died for this idea, ya know. If you have to die for something, die for those worse off than yourself. Don't be stupid, though. Think for yourself. All I can tell you is that you are no better than anyone else. Be proud of your accomplishments, but learn to be humble with it. Always remember that as you grow up. Be kind, as generous as you can and never turn down a person down on their luck. Your mom told you that, didn't she?" I remembered the Hobo and said, "Yes."
"I'm a Democrat. I hope you will be too." With that, he patted me on the head and he took me home where my bed was waiting for me.
Dad didn't tell me that being a Democrat was so hard and exasperating at times, but I wouldn't change being one for anything.
Thanks, Dad!