Voting and Remembering My Dad

I never feel more American - or closer to my father - than when I vote.

Since I turned 18, I've voted every Election Day, usually in the morning before work or other obligations. I voted early for the first time today because I'm going to work the election and don't yet know where I'll be assigned.

Most of you are tired of my stories about Election Day in my childhood home where we turned the living room into a polling place and folks from our rural area came by to chat and vote. My dad was a precinct committeeman and my mom spent her morning and afternoon feeding the poll workers. We'd all watch the election returns in the dining room where the living room furniture still crowded all the nooks and crannies.

We were Democrats, of course, so I remember the shock of realizing we lived in a Republican state. I remember my dad chuckling when I turned to him to question why Indiana had been colored in red while the other states were still showing white on the TV screen map of the USA. It was probably 6:01 p.m.

My dad in his Army days. Apparently winning.

Jimmy Carter would win that year, but not with Hoosier help. Doc Bowen was our governor, but not up in 1976. Dick Lugar won his first U.S. Senate spot. He'd become the unusual Republican office holder my Blue Dog Democrat father would support.

This is an interesting year with Alison still a year away from being able to vote but vocal about her views on the political world. She was making fun of some ads the other day -- we're drowning in Donnelly v. Braun messaging -- picking apart elements that she thought were ridiculous.

"I mean, I like him because you told me I should," she said. "But really, he's splitting wood!"

I laughed at the idea that she was following my advice but hugged it tight just the same. It's anyone's guess who she'll be listening to this time next election.

Anyway, it was nice to think about you Dad. Pretty sure you'd be happy with my picks.