In the Spring of 2018, I took a solo road trip following
the Civil Rights Trail through Alabama and blogged about it. I met a lot of people along the way and one
couple thought they knew me. It got me an
invitation to join them at their table for dinner at a great BBQ/Seafood shack
near the Alabama Florida border. It had that Alabama ambience. Distinctive decor.
I expanded the conversation I had with the fictional Don and
Lola Ackland that night
(Dinner at the Shack May 2018)
to include much of what I heard on that trip from people who have political
points of view different than mine. If
you’re a regular reader you’ll remember Don and Lola, and if not, I’m glad I
can introduce you. Let’s pick it up
after I order dinner from Shirley the waitress, and Don and Lola realize I’m
not their friend Darrell Ebener.
“So, what brings you down our way Mr. …uh…McClure. Or is it Dave?”
“Call me Dave. Please.
I’m making my way to Pensacola to golf with some fellas that are flying
down from Illinois. I’m on a solo road
trip to, you know, acquaint myself with this part of the country. Been following the Civil Rights Trail. I was in Selma this morning, Montgomery and
Birmingham before. Learning a lot about
Alabama. My wife is joining me after the
golf. We’re going to spend a week or so
with some relatives, then head home slowly.
May stop in Memphis.”
“I hope you’re enjoying Alabama Dave.”
“Well, your weather beats ours all to heck, I’ll tell you
that.
“What part of Illinois you from?”
“Ottawa. Town of
about 18,000 ninety miles southwest of Chicago.”
While I talked to Don, Lola scrolled furiously on her phone
and now held it up.
“There’s Darrell Ebner, just so you don’t think Don and I
are getting Alzheimers. Now isn’t he
just about your double?” She passed me
her phone.
I looked on the screen and a grinning gray-haired man in a
Titleist hat peered back at me. It was
like looking in a mirror.
“My god yes. Let’s
hope I’m not his evil twin.”
“I bet not,” Lola said with a toothy smile. Don followed his wife up quickly.
“So, what are you learning about us Alabamans?”
“You eat well, for one thing. And you like your beer nice and cold.”
I took a big swig of my long neck, which was sweating from
the heat. Heat in February. Nothing but a screen door and windows open
there in The Shack. You gotta love
it. I felt far from home. I wasn’t sure how much to say about what I
thought of Alabama.
“You eat here often?” I said.
“Yes, we do. Beats
cooking,” Lola said. I can’t turn out
food near as good as the cook here anyway.”
“What county am I in?”
“Conecuh,” Don said.
“Little county less than 13,000 people.
We’ve lived here all our lives.
And Lola never forgets anything.
If there is something you want to know she is the one to ask.”
“We are keeping you from your supper Mr. McClure. Don’t mind us. Eat that gumbo before it gets cold. It may be the best you ever eat,” Lola said.
I had a spoonful and agreed with Lola. The stew had the holy trinity of delta cooking;
celery, onions, carrots, along with okra and peppers in a pale roux., and it
was heavy with crawfish, shrimp, and chunks of fish. In lots of gumbo one or more of the seafood
items are overdone and rubbery, but in that cup each was cooked just right. The best thing about the The Shack’s gumbo
though, was the sausage. Spicy and
smooth, but not greasy.
“Wow,” I said.
“What’d I tell ya,” Lola said. “That’s more of a creole dish with the
light-colored butter roux. Cajun gumbo
is darker, made with lard a lot of times.
I prefer this kind. And that
sausage is made right here in Evergreen.
Conecuh sausage company. Been
around since 1947.”
Don wasn’t into talking about food.
“So, what have you been learning about Civil Rights in
Alabama?”
I swallowed a mouthful of gumbo and paused.
“I learned civil rights for black people were pretty hard to
come by until the 60’s when they had to fight to get them. I knew about what was happening in
Birmingham, because I was a kid then and saw it on TV, and I’d read about
Montgomery with the freedom riders and what happened on the bridge in
Selma. But I didn’t know what brought it
on, and how bad it was for so long after the Civil War ended.”
“I was a kid then too.”
“How old are you Don?”
“I’ll be 69 comin’ up here soon.”
“Yeah, I’ll be 68 in August.
I remember seeing young people being knocked down with a fire hose
rolling down the street. I saw them sic
the dogs on black people that looked to be just standing there. But what I remember most is the look on the
faces of those cops. How hateful they
looked. I didn’t understand it back
then. Not sure I do now.”
“Yeah, it would be hard for a Yankee kid to know what it was
like down heah then.”
“How’d you feel when that was happening Don?”
“Scared. I thought
everything was breaking loose and I didn’t know what it was going to be like
next. It was like people my parent’s age
were losing control. And they were
pissed.”
“White people you mean.”
“Yeah. I think they
were scared too truth be told. But they
were so mad. At the federal government
and the news media as much as the black people.
Looking back, I think the leaders of those protests wanted that to
happen in front of the TV cameras and we played into it. They got the upper hand on that one. It’s never been the same since.”
“Would you want it to be the same?”
“No. But it didn’t
have to happen like it did.”
“It was shameful,” Lola said. “I just felt ashamed. I didn’t say it to my parents. But when they killed those four little black
girls with a bomb in their Sunday School?
They was my age those little girls.
I couldn’t believe it. I was
scared because I didn’t know how far we would go to stop those black
protestors. So, I guess I was scared too
in a different way. I was afraid lots
and lots more black people would get killed and they’d bring the army in. And then they did bring the army in. It was a terrible time for Alabama.”
“I suppose you went to the new lynching museum in Montgomery
that Stephenson fella put together.”
“Yeah I did. You been
there?”
“No. Not going
neither.”
“It’s really pretty well done, Don. Straightforward and factual. It’s not just about Alabama but the whole
South, the whole country for that matter.
We lynched black people in Illinois too.
That was news to me. I mean it
happened. I didn’t realize it was
anywhere as big a number as it was though.
4,000 they could document. Surely
more we’ll never know about. Maybe
double. I had no idea.”
They were both quiet.
“I mean, I don’t blame you.
The whole country was responsible.
The North took damned little interest in stopping it. Trouble was the country was run by nothing
but white men for all but a few years after the Civil War. The slaves may have been free, but they
didn’t have any rights. Couldn’t
vote. It was a different time, but still
it happened. I think we all have to own
it.”
Our dinner came, which was good timing. My dinner companions were having BBQ. Lola had a pulled pork sandwich with slaw on
top (the Slaw Slammer) and Don had the Smoked Butt plate. My plate had a big pile of mullet. When the waitress asked if she could bring us
anything else, I ordered another beer and asked Don if I could buy him one. He shot a look at Lola.
“Go ahead. I’ll drive
home honey. I can see you’re gonna have
a good time talking.” She turned to
me. “My husband likes a good discussion,
as you might have caught on to.”
Don went on. “It
might be we all have to own it, but you know as well as I do the rest of the
country puts it all on guys like me.
Alabama good old boy born and bred.
White, redneck, NASCAR watchin’, gun totin’, racist cracker.”
“I think you pretty much got all the stereotypes wrapped up
into one there, Don. It might work for
some people but not me. Presumes too
much don’t you think? I imagine you have
your ideas about Yankees too. But I’d
rather not be anyone’s typical anything if I can help it.”
“I know that, but I have you figured as a Democrat just the
same.”
“You’d be right. I am
a Democrat. I’m a retired social
worker. I ran a private not for profit
that worked with kids and families. We
took government money so we could provide foster care and therapy. We also did day care and immigration work. A lot of the people we worked with were
poor. Being a Democrat, especially in
Illinois, kind of goes with that territory.”
“That sounds like a tough job.”
“It was. But
satisfying too. Those programs work you
know. Not every time but they work. What did you do for a living Don?”
“I ran an insurance agency.
Took it over from my Dad. I started
out selling life insurance, ended up being something of a financial
advisor. That business changed so
much. It works too if people stick with
it.”
“I bet you helped a lot of people, a lot of families, get
ahead and stay there.”
“Those that could afford it I did. There are plenty of poor people round heah I
couldn’t figure out how to help.”
“I’d guess you to be a Republican.”
“You’d be right about that.
My whole family is Republican.
Trump got 62% of the vote here.
Better than Mitt Romney. Alabama
state government is pretty much all Republican.
Not much future in being Democrat in Alabama.”
Lola jumped in. I
felt bad about leaving her out.
“I don’t know what I am anymore. Don’t know that I’m a Democrat, but I’m
fixin’ to vote that way come the next election.
I think things are going crazy myself.
And it’d be wrong to think of Alabama as all red Republican.”
“Where did you work Lola?”
“I started out working at our kid’s school, Sparta Academy,
private. Then I went and worked as an
aide in the public school. That opened
my eyes. Best thing I ever did was to
see how the other half lives. Oh, and
I’m an election judge.”
“I am too Lola. You
had a special election not long ago that got pretty nutty. Alabama was on the national news every
night. How did that happen Lola?”
“Oh boy, that’s a whopping long story Dave. How’s that mullet?”
“Just like I hoped it would be. Nice and fishy. I get tired of bland white fish
sometimes. And the slaw is great. Lots of places overlook the sides and they
all end up tasting the same. These beans
are nice and spicy too with that same good sausage.”
“I’m telling you, you’re at the best roadside joint in South
Alabama.”
Don swallowed a mouthful of smoked pork, took a swig of
beer, and leaned back in his chair.
“That damn special election was a circus. We were replacing Jeff Sessions right? Who probably wishes he’d a never taken that
Attorney General job, and it should have been a slam dunk for the Republicans,
who started out behind Luther Strange.
But somehow, they dug up Roy Moore and expected us to vote him in. Strange was a perfectly good candidate,
moderate, and damned if they didn’t put Moore on the ballot. I still don’t know what happened.”
“The only thing crazier is they expected Alabama women to
vote for him,” Lola added.
“I don’t believe quite all that sexist stuff about Moore
like Lola, but they plumb overshot thinking they could get enough votes out of
the cities and black votes to elect him in the general. Put that scandal stuff aside and Roy Moore is
too old school, even for Alabama. At
least I hope so. I reckon even Alabama
gets more fair-minded over time.”
“You think they’ll run him again against Doug Jones?”
“If they do that’s the only way Doug Jones gets re-elected. Jones worked for the feds and prosecuted the
boys that bombed that Birmingham church where the four black girls were
killed.”
“Is that bad?”
“I’m not sayin’ it’s bad.
I’m just sayin’ that stuff is never forgotten in the South. That background is not going to get you
elected down here in a statewide election against any decent Republican. Not Alabama, not Georgia, Mississippi, not
any of the southern states.”
“But he’s an Alabama senator right now.”
“But he’s a Democrat.
He’s going to be a one termer if the party just plays its cards right
and starts looking at how Alabama votes these days instead of listening to
people outside heah. No way Alabama
should have a Democrat senator.”
“Why aren’t you guys talking about the Donald?”
We both looked at Lola.
I didn’t especially want to talk about him. I had a feeling my dinner partner didn’t
either.
“He’s the elephant in the room. How you going to talk politics and not talk
about him?”
I looked up at my dinner companion and he looked at me.
Don said, “You voted for Hillary and I voted for Trump. Am I right?”
“You’re right. You
going to vote for him again?”
“To tell the truth, I don’t really want to. I think he’s kinda dangerous. I mean we
wanted him to shake things up and he’s sure doin’ that but I’m not sure he
knows what he’s doin’ with foreign policy.
Not sure I trust him. But unless
the Democrats give me somebody I can vote for I’ll give him my vote again. That’s a promise.”
“Just how bad would a Democratic candidate have to be before
you’d vote for Trump again?”
“Well I’m not going to vote for a damn socialist I’ll tell
you that.”
Lola spoke up. “You
know, we cancel each other’s votes out quite often, Don and I do.”
“Are you going to vote for Trump next election Lola?”
“I doubt it. I voted
for Hillary. And I voted for Obama the second time. I thought Don was gonna divorce me.”
“Lola thinks the Democrats can do government programs that
help poor people, and I say all they need is jobs and they can take care of
themselves.”
I had to speak up.
“Don, didn’t Obama help poor people with the Affordable Care
Act? Wasn’t he on the right side of the
health care problem?”
“Dave, I used to sell health insurance. Obamacare was a mess. Still is.
The government has no business in health care.”
“If you ask me the government is knee deep in health
care. Medicaid, Medicare, the Veteran’s
program. That’s government health
care. Tell me, when you were selling
insurance, could you find decent individual health policies poor people could
afford?”
Don shook his head no.
“I worked with poor families Don. Without Medicaid they had practically no
mental health or substance abuse coverage, and even when it was included in the
private insurance it had serious limits.
I’m sure you both know people without insurance who are hurting.”
“Yes, we do,” Lola said.
“Obama gave us a start to figuring out healthcare, but we’ve
done nothing since. Trump and the
Republicans wanted to repeal Obamacare and replace it with something else and
they had nothing. Nothing.”
“I just know Obama was a big threat to people down here,”
Don said.
“Oh Don,” Lola said.
“I haven’t heard you ever say it like that. Who did he threaten?”
“He threatened what America stands for.”
I got back in.
“Don, don’t you think Obama did a lot of good? Don’t you think he was decent, represented us
well in the world, made thoughtful decisions?”
“Well I’ll give him this.
Obama did a lot for black people.
But I don’t think he did much for me.”
I had taken a bite of mullet but stopped chewing it. Then I resumed and swallowed. Washed it down with the last of my watery
lite beer.
“So Don, I live in a part of Illinois that is not very
diverse. Farm country. Small businesses. We had factories with good paying jobs close
and tourism and what not took their place.
Earnings went down. We don’t have
many black people where I live. But we
have poor people. Lots of kids get free
lunch in school. We have a big opioid
addiction problem. Overdose deaths. Obama was helping those people too not just
black people. Maybe down here it seems that
equates to black people, but I see expanded health care as trying to bring
everybody up. Floating all the
boats. You know what I mean?”
“I know what you’re trying to say. I’ve heard all that. But just a minute ago you used the word
‘equates.’ Please don’t go all Yankee
liberal on me and start using big words.
I may be a redneck but I’m listening.
I get it.”
He called across the room “Shirley can you bring us a couple
more beers?”
Lola got up. “I’m
going to the ladies room. Are you boys
going to be OK while I’m gone?”
“I’ll be good honey,” Don said.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
Shirley brought over two more long necks. Don resumed his thoughts on our previous
president.
“Look, even though Obama was black and a Democrat he was
smart. I’ll give you that. And I respected him for being a good family
man. I think I gave Obama a real chance. You know when I lost all respect for him
Dave? It was that deal with the black
professor, the Gates fellah. Shot his
mouth off then tried to make it all better by having a beer with him and the
cop, brought Biden along to referee.”
“You’re talking about Louis Gates. Has a TV show about genealogy on public
TV. Yeah. He and Obama are friends. Both taught at Harvard. Gates still does. He has a PhD.”
“And both are black.”
“So? The cops
arrested Gates on the front porch of his own house, suspected him of being an
intruder. White neighborhood, black
man. I bet you’d be pissed Don, if it
happened to you or a friend of yours. I
would. I’d be pissed as hell.”
“That’s not the point.
Obama called the policeman who made the arrest stupid. It’s unforgiveable for the President of the
United States to say that about law enforcement.”
“Is that right?”
I scooped up the last of my baked beans with a chunk of hush
puppy, put it in my mouth, and tried to compose myself.
“You know when I lost all respect for Trump?
“When?”
“When he mocked the disabled reporter. When he bragged about assaulting women. When he called Central American immigrants at
our southern border murderers and rapists.
When he immediately said the murder of a Saudi journalist in their own
embassy shouldn’t interfere with us doing business with that country. When he purposely separated kids from their
parents and put them in cages to send immigrants a message. When he claimed there were good people on
both sides of the demonstrations in Charlottesville and gave credence to white
supremacists. When he ruined the grain
markets for midwestern farmers with his tariff idea. I could go on.”
“I’m sure you could.
Look, he’s not like other presidents.
He shoots his mouth off. But he
says what a lot of us think.”
Lola had come back and caught the last part of our
conversation.
“It doesn’t do any good to argue with Don about the Donald,”
Lola said. “I do it regularly and it
gets me nowhere.”
I kept talking to Don anyway.
“Can you really look at Obama’s presidency and say he didn’t
accomplish good things for you?”
“Nothing comes to mind.”
I was a little stunned.
Lola helped.
“He did away with your pre-existing condition Don. You know that helped you.”
“How about you let me talk to my friend here, so I don’t get
ganged up on two on one. Could you do
that Lola?”
“As long as you tell the truth. Besides that, he’s my new friend too.”
“Yeah, well that figures, cause he thinks like you.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to both of you. We can do this I think, don’t you think? Without it getting out of hand?”
Don leaned back. I
couldn’t resist the next question.
“You’re not armed, are you?”
He smiled. “The
pistol’s in the truck. Got a
permit. You’re safe. We haven’t plugged a Yankee down here since
the carpetbaggers I don’t think.”
“That’s not true. White
folks killed white sympathizers from the North during the Civil Rights
demonstrations. I’m just finding out
about that. But still I feel better
you’re not carrying.”
I decided to keep my views on gun control to myself.
“Where were we?”
“Don was telling me to shut up I think.”
“Dang it Lola, I wasn’t.”
“All right you two, how about local voting? What happens in local elections?”
“It’s pretty much over after the Republican primary, least
it used to be,” Lola said. “Except when
it came to that year Obama first won.
That changed everything.”
“How so?”
“Obama won our county.
That’s how big the black turnout was.
I couldn’t believe it. Nobody
could.”
“It just shows you what could happen,” Don said.
“That what could happen?”
“That black voters could drive elections in the South if
they got their shit together. Them and
the liberals in the cities. It’s wrong
to think of Alabama, or anywhere else in the South, is all one way. We got the same tension between cities and
rural folk as everybody else. Thank God
our cities aren’t that big. You got
Chicago up there to contend with, like California’s got LA and San Francisco.”
“But so what? What if
Democrats did drive elections? What do
you think would happen?”
“We’d have better public schools around here for one thing,”
Lola said.
“Yeah, and be taxed to high heaven paying for them. This little county? Conecuh?
They’d spend our puny county budget up so fast it’d make your head
spin. We got so little tax base left
it’d all be levied for property taxes on our houses. And if we took that Medicaid subsidy? All downhill from there brother, mark my
words. Before you know it, the Feds
would back out and we’d be paying for it with higher taxes right here in
Evergreen.”
“I think the biggest injustice that happened in reaction to
Obamacare is when the red states refused to take federal payments to insure
their own citizens with Medicaid. It’s
criminal to deny them that care, I think.
If not criminal, its damn cruel.”
“Now you sound like Lola. She tells me that about once a
week. Keeps finding ways to feel sorry
for those folk without insurance, without this and that.”
“And you don’t?”
“They can get a job with an employer that covers them. They can get an education so’s to get that
kinda job. They can work for it, ‘stead
of getting it handed to them. I did. I assume you did too. You ended up managing an outfit.”
“Oh, yeah. I worked
for it. I did. But I had advantages too.”
“Like what?”
“Well I was white for one.
I was a man. And my family owned
land.”
“Thank you very much,” Lola said. “Maybe he’ll listen to you.”
Shirley the waitress showed up table side with her book out
again. Her timing was impeccable.
“How about dessert folks?”
“What do you have?”
“We got lots of stuff, but the best is the bread
pudding.” I looked at Lola who nodded.
“I’ll take it, with a cup of coffee.”
“How about you Lola?”
“Don and I’ll have one too. Two spoons.”
We commenced having a bread pudding conversation. I told her about the wonderful bread pudding
I ran into in Arkansas, and other memorable puddings in New Orleans and
elsewhere. Once again Don seemed eager
to return to politics.
“So, who do you like coming out of this gaggle of Democrat
presidential candidates?”
“I’m for whoever is going to get your vote Don.”
“I’m afraid that democrat won’t show up, unless you end up
picking Biden and I’m afraid he’s screwed already. Now Lola here, she’d vote for any one of
them.”
“If it’s between one of them and the orange Cheeto, which
it’s gonna be, you damn right I’ll vote for any one of them. Any day.”
“You like Joe Biden?”
“Joe’s old. We gotta
be bold to get the young voters. We’re
not going to get any Republican votes anyway.
I don’t care what Don says.”
“But we need independent voters on our side.”
“We need new thinking you ask me. I like Pete Buttigieg. He’s a veteran you know.”
Don butted in.
“Hello. That’s never
going to happen. You think you are going
to get black votes with a gay candidate?
Think again.”
“Don, do you and Lola have kids?”
“Two. Boy and a
girl. Both living in Atlanta.”
“Same as my wife and I except our kids are in Chicago. Where are they on the LGBTQ issue?”
“Are you sure you got all the right letters there? Seems like they add one every couple months.”
“I’ll tell ya, it isn’t an issue with our kids,” Lola
said. “And that after growing up in a
house with Don Ackland. I’m amazed, but
I’m also proud of them. They think for
themselves. They’re good smart kids.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. I’ve never seen a social issue turn as
quickly as the country’s attitude toward gay people and then gay marriage. If we can change that much that quickly on an
issue that seemed ingrained in our country, anything is possible. Even racial equality.”
“Even socialism?” Don said.
“Yeah, even socialism.
I don’t for a minute think we’re going to be a socialist country. They can try to scare you with Venezuela but
that’s an absurd argument. We’re not
even going to be Denmark. Look, if you
can get past the label and look a little closer, we can adopt policies and
create programs that really help people.
It doesn’t mean we’ll turn into a socialist country. It will cost us more, and we’ll have to shift
our spending, but it will make the country much better place to live for so
many people.”
Don looked out the window at the driveway and Lola looked
closely at her husband.
“You know, to hear a decent fellah, an otherwise smart guy
like you, say that kind of stuff just scares the hell out of me. We’re not that different. Same age, both raised kids, had OK jobs. We couldn’t think about the future any
differently. I just know spending money
on the kind of shit that props people up and shields them from real work is not
what made America great. You do that,
you spend our money on people who don’t earn the right to be real Americans,
and this country will never be the same.”
I took the last bite of my bread pudding and washed it down
with some coffee.
“Well, I gotta say it scares me just as much to think a guy
like you with good values supports a man like Donald Trump and is starting to
decide who’s a real American and who’s not.
We’ve got a constitution and we have got to pay attention to it. The country is not the same place we grew up
in Don. The middle class we raised our
families in is damn hard to find. The
country is changing. It’s OK to change
with it. There’s no reason to be
scared. Listen to your kids if nothing
else. We’re going to be all right, but
we have to work together and take care of each other.”
“OK Dave. We’re not
going to agree there. It’s getting late
but let me ask you one more thing. How’s
your 401(k)?”
“It’s fine. I bet
yours is too.”
“Mine is more than fine.
It’s booming. Who do you think
gets the credit for that?”
“All the people in government that worked to restore
confidence after that huge recession.
Bankers and businessmen who made use of technology to better their
operations, a whole bunch of people.”
”You can’t give Trump credit for anything can you?”
“I’m not sure Presidents, Obama or Trump or any of them,
should get much credit for the performance of the economy. That Trump tax cut, did it help you or your
kids? And if Trump removing restrictions
on polluting the air and water that big business complained about juiced the
economy, I’d gladly give up some of my 401(k) gains to have them back. I think he’s doing real harm to the
environment. Hell, he won’t even
acknowledge climate change.”
Lola stepped in.
“Let’s not talk about climate change.
We’re having dessert.”
“OK fine. To get back
to your 401(k) question, my wife and I are fine financially. I think we’ll be OK regardless of what
happens politically. That’s not my
concern. But let me ask you this, how’s your kids’ 401(k)s?”
“That’s a different story,” Lola said. “They got student loans, pay a lot of rent,
can’t even think about buying homes.
Living in Atlanta is not like living in Conechuh county. We were able to save money. I’m not sure they ever will.”
“That’s who I’m worried about. My kids and their kids. Automation and technology are going to
continue to wipe out jobs. It’s going to
be a different world for them.”
“Yeah, well we’ll just have to see what happens won’t
we?” Don said. “One thing I know is that people count on our
votes down here. The South is not going
to turn blue while the Democrats keep going in the direction they’re
headed. And who knows? One day you Democrats might want our
votes.
“The Republicans came to us in 1948, and what was a solid
Democrat South turned Republican. Strom
Thurmond and the Dixiecrats all of a sudden jumped to the GOP. But to do that the Republicans had to come
around to our issues, and they did.
Still do. You’re going to have to
turn around some of your own Midwestern states, cause it’s not going to be the
South that wins you back the White House.
“OK, let’s see what happens.
But on election night, after Lola and I both get home from the polls,
I’ll be thinking of you down here and looking to see how Alabama goes in the
election, particularly this little county.
We got a lot on the line the next election.”
“What did you think of the bread pudding?” Lola asked.
“It’s good but there’s a lady in Forest City Arkansas, wish
to God I would have gotten her name, that’s got it beat. Somehow hers was light and airy. This pudding has good flavor, but it’s a
little heavy like a lot of them, and chewy.
Love the restaurant, I wish it was in my hometown, but the bread pudding
is not the best part of the meal.”
“You Yankees are so damn picky,” Don said smiling.
“Can’t help it Don, just saying what I think, which you like
right?”
“It was nice talking to you Dave. It’s hard to have this kind of conversation
anymore.”
“I’m real glad you asked me to your table. I’ve had a lot on my mind. Sometimes it helps to talk. I get to listen to what I’m thinking. And it helps to put a face and a voice to
views that aren’t my own. Makes it more
personal and real. I hope I didn’t
offend you.”
“Not at all. You made
my day,” Lola said. “I don’t feel quite
so lonely down here now.”
“Yeah,’ Don said. “But I’m afraid you did nothing but
encourage her.”
“It’s OK Don. We
don’t grow horns, or anything cause of the way we vote. After we leave the polling booth, we’re all
still Americans.”
“Remember that applies to me too,” Lola said to Don.
“I figure your political differences keep you two
voting. I have a sister and brother in
law the same way. Cancel each other’s
votes out every time. But neither dares
not vote or the other gets the advantage.”
Lola laughed. “Drive
careful. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”
I gave Lola a hug and shook Don’s hand. He was a guy with a strong handshake
too. We tried to outgrip each
other. He has a very genuine smile. I was glad I met them both. Frank conversation keeps us grounded.
We have a propensity to fear each other, believe
there is not enough for all of us, feel superior to those who oppose our
views. Don Ackland wouldn’t like me
using the word propensity. Better to say
we’ve developed bad habits. We have come
a long way, but we have a long way to go.
Let’s get to work.
So much has happened since I wrote that. Donald Trump tried to withhold congress
approved military aid to Ukraine as a means to force them into launching a
probe into the Biden family, as if he foresaw the coming election and tried to discredit
his most feared Democratic rival before the primaries even began. He was impeached for it but survived thanks
to a Republican controlled Senate.
Since then he has downplayed the pandemic, discrediting
scientists and their institutions, for political gain. He takes no responsibility for the Covid 19
deaths that have resulted from his actions.
He continues to signal approval of right-wing extremists who most
recently have interfered with his rival’s campaign efforts. He denies the existence of systemic racism
and the need to address it. He continues
to blame Democratic mayors and governors for the problems in their cities and
states and threatens to withhold federal help for them as if they were another
country and not a part of the country he pledged to support and defend. The list is long.
But tomorrow night we will see, in the only poll
that counts, how America responds. Will
they value their 401(k) above attacks on our environment, spurning foreign allies,
attacking American values towards immigrants and refugees? We’ll see if Joe Biden attracts the young
voters, the minority voters, the moderate Republicans who want to see a return
to a kinder and smarter America.
I’ll be looking up vote counts in Conechu County Alabama
and seeing how Don and Lola, and their neighbors, voted. It’s not just whether states turn out Red or
Blue, but how the votes trend among us. Though
we can’t always read the future from presidential elections, I think we will know
after the dust settles where America is headed.
Be part of pointing us in the right direction. If you haven’t voted, even if you haven’t
registered, find where your polling place is located, go there, and make your
voice heard.
