Pappy "Poli-tics Localis"
by
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Pappy was a true character. Hollywood could not have produced a warmer caricature. The tough son of a railroad man. A runaway who joined the Marines in WWII with action at Saipan and Iwo Jima. Wounded in action and returning home to beat alcohol and the mental ravages of war, he achieved a double masters degree. A man who truly followed the wisdom of Mathew 6: 1-5. A tough politician who wasn't afraid to use the position he had fought for and won. Pappy was, most significantly, a man who understood emotions. Had fate not played such a fatal part in determining his course he might have been a more recognizable biography in his own name. Probably, because of fate, those of us in this community who knew him carry, to some degree, his indelible stamp. Pappy and I used to sit and talk. Most of the time he did the talking and I did the listening. The times when I learned the most were early on in the years that I knew him. Sometimes I would find him after school, on a Friday. Pappy and a group of teachers would gather at a local place and talk over the week’s happenings. The talk would run form school district doings, local news and invariably to politics. Pappy was always the accepted authority in that area. If he wasn't at first, Pappy usually was before the afternoon was over. When suppertime came I was often invited to his house for dinner. In the earlier years of our acquaintance Pappy was still keeping up to date on any number of things political. He wasn't actually doing any political organizing anymore. What he did most was to act as a sounding board or dispenser of advice. This entailed sitting by the kitchen telephone, either calling or being called. Between calls he would explain the relationships of things or interpret what went on between the lines of any given conversation. I used to enjoy listening for hours and he didn't seem to mind explaining, interpreting and relating for equal lengths of time. Pappy hadn't organized politically for a couple of years. At the time I first found the pleasure of his company he was, though, always involved in organizing some community project. This he had an undisputed flair for. With his local reputation being what it was and what he enjoyed it to be, the person on the other end of the line, sooner or later, would ask his opinion on some matter of politics. This happened whether the person was involved in politics directly or just knew Pappy's background or had heard about it and asked his opinion. Not being able to escape the topic or the questioners, he often took the opportunity to plant a seed for thought. Between calls he explained to me that in the decision process on most any matter involving the whole public, such as an election, each individual effects roughly three votes without openly attempting to do so. And, if an attempt is made openly, then that number becomes astronomical. I think he found it amusing that after retiring, from the local arena of politics his affect on it continued to grow.
Pappy was called a self-styled psychology teacher, conversationalist, politician, traveler, liberal, conservative and much more depending upon whom you asked. He had command of loyalties of the fiercest nature. He endured the rancor of many enemies. It took me several years to really begin to appreciate the accuracy of his comments and their benefit to me. One of his most memorable comments to me came in the first year of our conversations. "Your problem Mac is you want a job that pays a thousand dollars a week to do whatever you want to do for forty hours." I can remember protesting that stinging remark the night I first heard it. Five years later, when asked what type of work I would be interested in I could only remember the night I first felt that barb. Five years later the poignancy of that barb made its mark. I laughed openly and repeated Pappy's observation. It was one of the "chats" with Pappy that struck home. He was nineteen years my senior. He was farther still my senior in the ways of the world. At the time I first met Pappy I could imagine that I knew what that much used expression meant. Beach life in California was a contrasting education for a kid from the suburbs of Chicago. After a brief chat with Pappy, lasting not more than ten fleeting years, learning the ways of the world was as Aeschylus said in the Agamemnon: "He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget, falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." Robert Kennedy used those lines frequently after his brother's death. Relating those lines to Pappy is by no means accidental. Noting their use by the late Senator and then by myself of Pappy lends genealogy to his life. That will be evident later.
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About the Book
The book covers a period of time from 1968 through 1978. The book is not intended to be a historical document. There are names and events, and some insight into events. The insight is from the author’s perspective only. Absolute historical accuracy is not essential to the telling of the story. The book provides up close and personal exposure to the political system of our country. The author makes his living by instituting ideas through the erection of physical structures, through concrete and steel. No pun intended. But this book is intended to show the foundation of the political systems that produce the ideas. That foundation is, in the totality, people. Those people provide the story. The story: Government only reflects those it governs. It can do nothing else.
About the Author
The author is a 55-year-old construction manager with a B.A. from California State University, Los Angeles in Speech Communications. The author left home, a suburb of Chicago, at age 19. Using the eventual goal of completing a college degree. He chose a mid-size West Coast, beach community with a city college as a starting point. He supported himself by working many jobs: retail sales, construction laborer, janitor, substitute teacher, billing clerk, park ranger, security guard, etc. He might not have succeeded in the seven-year effort, but for a chance encounter with a man in that beach town. This man exposed to the author a view of community, achievement and self-confidence over a period of ten years. Politics was the vehicle used by this man. The author, having a desire to write, at least one book, was provided that opportunity by this man and the insight this man provided.