You see, my values, though taught to me by a Republican, are liberal values.
There used to be such a thing as Republicans who believed in positive steps toward racial equality. I was 7 when the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed. I remember we'd go by bus int he summer to the town's swimming pool, and even in small town Oklahoma, where we were from the "rich" side of town, we encountered black children along the way. As any kids might, we picked up some of the redneck prejudices that ran rampant in Oklahoma back then, but my father was having none of that. We learned early that a stinging backside would be the result of us using the "N" word or any other sign of disrespect towards blacks.
There used to be such a thing as Republicans, and Democrats, I suppose, who could judge the other side fairly. When I was 11 my Dad helped my write a speech in support of Bobby Kennedy. I gave that speech just a week and a half before he was shot, and it was full of thoughtful praise. Could I coach my own child in a speech about Dubya? Could I coach him to be a supporter without a result that was not parodic? Either I don't have that skill or something has changed.
There used to be Republicans who fervently believed in free speech. When I was 13 My Dad let me ride shotgun on a short ride to get some family friends out of harm's way. We lived in Ohio then, two towns away from Kent. I remember snipers in the trees around Roosevelt High School, just blocks from our friend's house. We picked them up and avoided the roadblocks because my Dad knew the back roads well. Yet, even though my Dad voted for Governor Rhodes, and Nixon as well, he had a grudging respect for the protesters. How else to explain him bringing home the cast album for "Hair?"
There used to be a time when Republicans were tolerant of religion. How else to explain him encouraging us later on with the lyrics to "Jesus Christ Superstar," which represents a kinder sense of religion. "He Ain't Heavy" was a song that would describe Dad's religion, not the vicious and sanctimonious brands of religiosity we see today. I may convert to Judaism in the next couple years. Christianity to me has become far too narrow. I have not a doubt that Dad would be proud of me, for I will do so as an attempt to connect to others, to find a faith I can raise kids in.
Three years ago at the end of a vacation with my then 13 year old nephew, we flew back to the States from England to his funeral. Sean was raised by my Dad partly, after my brother had died five years previous. The trip was a bonding time for Sean and I, as was our return for the funeral. I asked Sean the other day what he remembered about Dad. Sure, he responded about Dad singing those old Bob Wills songs with my Uncle Doyle, that amateurish tenor that was only sweet to loved ones. But Sean told me Dad taught him the lyrics to Joe Hill, by Joan Baez.
I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night,
alive as you and me.
Says I "But Joe, you're ten years dead"
"I never died" said he,
"I never died" said he.
"The Copper Bosses killed you Joe,
they shot you Joe" says I.
"Takes more than guns to kill a man"
Says Joe "I didn't die"
Says Joe "I didn't die"
And standing there as big as life
and smiling with his eyes.
Says Joe "What they can never kill
went on to organize,
went on to organize"
From San Diego up to Maine,
in every mine and mill,
where working-men defend there rights,
it's there you find Joe Hill,
it's there you find Joe Hill!
I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night,
alive as you and me.
Says I "But Joe, you're ten years dead"
"I never died" said he,
"I never died" said he.
I was stunned. You see, my Dad's job for the first 30 years was as a negotiator against the union. He worked for Big Rubber. The enemy was The United Rubber Workers in Akron Ohio, led by Peter Bommarito. So I was shocked. But through the same lens where I learned racial tolerance and a respect for free speech I began to see. Much of my family, you see, owed their lives to the union fighting for safe working conditions, and Dad honored at least that part of the union movement. After all, he was raised in Pitcher Oklahoma and he'd worked in the mines when he was 14. By the end of his life all of Pitcher was a Superfund site. Yeah, he was a Republican who could respect both unions and the environment.
I'll vote Republican again someday, when Republicans can earn my Dad's respect.
