Monday's Work and whatever

Since we didn't want to do canvassing until later in the day when people are home from work, we went up to the Grandview Cemetery where my parents are buried.  It is in a beautiful location in the hills above Johnstown.  There is a section where those who died in the famous Johnstown Flood of 1889 are buried.  It is rather sad to see the tombstones of children, teenagers, young adults, spouses, etc that read "drowned May 1889".

We made our way from there to lunch at the nice restaurant near the incline that goes down the steep hill into the city of Johnstown.  From the windows of the restaurant you have a panoramic view of the city, its defunct steel mills, and the mountains and valleys, one of which served as the conduit for the flood waters from the broken dam miles away.

Since Davidsville was such a downer yesterday, we decided to do Holsopple today.  I had not been too keen on Holsopple when Lisa gave me the list, as I really didn't know much about that town even though it's only about 4 miles from Jerome.  But Holsopple is also a working class town, like Jerome, so today I was hoping it would be more hospitable than Davidsville.  I was beginning to feel the class distinctions. Republicans definitely for McCain.  Democrats mixed:  some for Obama,  some having problems voting for a black person.

On the way we had to go through Davidsville, so I suggested that we stop by a couple houses that I hadn't gotten to yesterday.  At the first one, no one was home, so I left my usual literature.  At the next an older man came to the door.  I almost thought he looked familiar, like someone I might have known from years passed but aged.  I gave my opening statement, and he smiled slightly and took a brochure I had in hand.  Before I could say another thing his jowly wife appeared behind him and in a very gruff voice kept repeating: 

 "Obama, Obama..No!" as she shooed me away with her hand.  

I was so startled I stepped back saying reflexively: 

"Sorry about that", 

as the husband meekly gave back the brochure.  

"You don't have to be sorry," she growled.

Redjeb told me, when I described the encounter, that I should have winked at the guy and whispered that he could vote in private for Obama.  But that was enough Davidsville for me, and we went hopefully toward Holsopple just a mile away.

Holsopple is smaller than Jerome, I believe, and has some hills of its own.  But it is a sadder looking town/village.  Redjeb seemed taken by it, with its dilapidated houses and asked if this is Appalachia.  

"It is the northern part of Appalachia," I told him.  "But we don't refer to it that way."

We are actually in the Allegheny Mountains that are part of the northern range of the Appalachian mountains. But despite some individual families and pockets of poverty, I think that we have been in better shape than those in the Southern areas.  Nevertheless, the houses in Holsopple for the most part did not seem as well taken care of as most of those in Jerome.  Some hadn't been painted in decades and were in need of repair, porches were loaded with all kinds of stuff, kids toys, old shoes, empty cans, broken porch furniture.  Many seemed to have dogs locked inside, while they were at work.  When I'd knock the dogs would go wild, banging into things and charging the door.  I would leave my brochure and make a quick departure.  

Redjeb decided today to follow me with the car and I'd get out, go to a few houses, and then jump back in, and we'd drive slowly trying to read house numbers.  It's seems to work better this way, and I think he enjoys it more.  Sometimes people would ask us if we needed help, as they'd see us pulling in and out of places. I was afraid we'd get hit by a car as we slowed down trying to figure out where to stop, since there are no curbs.

One guy was very suspicious of why I was looking for him.  In my awkward way I tried to explain what I'm doing.  He eventually admitted that he is a Democrat and became very friendly.  He told me that Davidsville, unlike Holsopple, is full of those "rich people up there".  I told him I was originally from Jerome, but he was about 40 and too young to know anything about my family.  Then he noticed our car license plate:

"You're from New York?"

"Yeah, I live there now."

"That something.  You came all the way back here for this?"

"Yeah, I thought they'd need me here more than up there."

"That's great."  

Then he went around the side of his house, jumped on his beautifully maintained motorcycle and took of like crazy down the road, waving back at me.

After him, we pulled into a road in front of a building that had huge cement dinosaurs outside, as well as some other stuff I couldn't figure out.  A woman was leaving and we asked her what this place was about.  Seems it is a wholesale place where they sell bulk petrified wood, large dinosaurs and who knows what else.  We weren't allowed in as it wasn't open to the public unless we needed a cart of this stuff.  Amazing what people do for a living, and I wonder who her customers are.

We got into a slightly better part of town, and at one house the guy said he was a Republican, so I said OK.  We both smiled, and it was all very nice and polite.  That is what I like.

Another guy, a Democrat, said he was undecided.  But as we talked I told him we had info for Veterans and indeed he is a vet.  How did I know?  I gave him my special flyer.  I hope it changed his mind.

As we drove on the narrow streets up in the hills around Holsopple we stopped in front of one of our numbers.  The sign on the door said go around to the back.  Many people here do not use their front doors; they and friends go in the kitchen door.  I went around and climbed up on the porch.  As I knocked on the door, I could see through the window a guy shirtless sitting at his kitchen table eating dinner.  Ooops.  He slowly came to the door.  He was very nice, and was not only quietly for Obama, but wanted more things so he could take them to the plant where he works.  So I loaded him up with pins and flyers.  Then I noticed that a car had pulled up along side Redjeb and that those inside were talking to him.

"That's my father, Frank M..  He's 80.  Maybe you know him."

"The name sounds familiar," I said, as I made my way toward the car thinking I'd better rescue Redjeb.  But he apparently was doing well on his own.  The man had asked him what was going on and Redjeb had explained.  He told the guy that I had been from Jerome.  Frank asked about my last name, and when Redjeb said "Backman," he thought and then said:  Doc Backman?  And Redjeb said, "Yes".

So when I went up, I explained we were working for Obama.  Frank M, looked thoughtful and said he was a long time Democrat. 

"Maybe I'll vote Democrat,"  he said.

Then his wife, with her done hair and puffy face leaned over from the far side of the front seat, and in a critical voice asked:

"You for Obama?"

I said, "Yes," and added my speech about Democrats sticking together, need for voting straight ticket, and that I had been for Hillary and who knows what else I said.  I don't think I changed her opinion, but we had to end the conversation as a car was coming down the narrow street and Frank M had to move on.

I left Holsopple with a fond feeling for this real place--a mixed bag politically but real, genuine people. 

Dinner tonight was at Maggie Mae's, a local beer joint near the turnpike.