Confessions of a Never Trumper

I do not know when I first became aware of Donald Trump, possibly in the 90’s in glitzy photos, always with some “Trump brand” object large or small, building, plane, tie, wine, steak.  It could have been one of his divorces or affairs or when he took a full page add condemning the Central Park Five or his bankrupt Casino.  Maybe I was flipping through the channels and saw him on his TV show the Apprentice.  In every incident the same feeling came to me…. What an arrogant self-absorbed con-man/sleezeball.

When he started talking about running for President in the 90’s, I chuckled at the absurdity that anyone would fall for this egomaniac.  He changed his party affiliation from Republican to Independent to Democrat and back to Republican.  His “Birther Movement” was political genius that finally found traction over a large swath of angry voters in American.  From there he fed the flames on immigration, job stagnation and rust belt and coal country rot.  He fed the narrative of Christian Conservatives that they were the real victims of Liberalism.  Spreading fear of having guns confiscated, immigrant invasion, multiculterism and US global involvement.  He embraced Right to Life, I believe, because he saw the importance to Evangelicals and Catholics not because of any moral imperative.  

I began to wonder what my father, a Union man and factory worker would think or say about Donald Trump.  In my mind, he wouldn’t have liked him.  He had a well-developed bull-shit-o meter.  He was also a dyed in the wool Democrat.  He stood on the principles of honesty and his word was his contract, not to be broken.  He held us to the same high standards and was stingy with praise.  Dad would never tell somebody what he or she wanted to hear just to get what he wanted.  He was generous with his money even though we didn’t have a lot.  I never wondered if he loved us even though he rarely said it.  He was everything Trump is not.

When he famously came down the escalator and announced his bid to a mostly paid crowd, I was amused.  There was such a strong field of Republican candidates, I thought, this shouldn’t last long.  But it did, excruciatingly.  I had my favorites in the crowd.  I wanted to feel good, no matter who was elected.  I was not a fan of Hillary.  She had her faults.  Bernie’s Socialist agenda was popular with a minority.  One by one, the Republican candidates lost ground to Trump and his puffery, The Republican Convention rolled around and crowned him king.  His face glowed like the Harvest Moon with a wisp of cloud passing over the top.   I was suspicious when the Republican Platform on Ukraine and the Russian was changed at Trump’s request, less support for Ukraine and less criticism of Russia for invading Crimea was hard to understand, especially from Republicans.  It was odd and dark.  Then there was Trump asking Russia to go after Hillary and the Democrats and crowing about WikiLeaks.  

Still, no one believed he could win, including Trump himself.  

 

Visit: Current Events on Big River

St. Clair to Courtright, Ontario Ferry  1950's

  

  My mother and my aunt cooked up this great adventure for my cousins and me.  Our grandfather, a Chief Engineer, was on one of his last trips on the Great Lakes with the Interlake Steamship Company.  On a warm sunny day, Grandpa's boat would be heading up river and passing our home town, St. Clair, MI.  The plan was for my cousins and siblings to accompany my grandmother who would board the freighter from Marilyn M out in the channel of the St. Clair River just as the freighter passed St. Clair.  It was the custom that the Captain and the First Engineer could have visitors on several trips.  You'd think they'd board while the ship was docked, but no, it happened in the middle of the River and we would bear witness. 

The Marilyn M was a working ferry but her captain had accommodated the Great Lakes captains and Chief Engineers through many summers of this tricky maneuver.  The anticipation of waiting in the park was almost unbearable but soon we saw Grandpa’s freighter rounding the bend,  black smokestack with orange stripe puffing smoke from the engine room.   Shouting and cheering, we scampered to the ferry dock to climb aboard the Marilyn M.

 With the auto  tow barge detached, we motored into the current. The river smells, blue water and roaring engine adding to the anticipation as our hair caught the breeze and spray.   The SS Frank Purnell was headed up river as we went down with the current to meet our grandfather.  The Ferry boat made a wide 180 turn bouncing off the wake of the Great Lakes Steamship vessel.  Gunning the engines, the Marilyn M came along the huge sidewall of the freighter like a newborn calf swimming beside a behemoth mother whale.  All we could see was rusty colored metal.  For a moment it seemed as if we stood still as the Marilyn M matched the speed of Grandpa’s freighter. I noticed the water below rushing through the several foot gap between the Marilyn M and the Freighter in a wild torrent erasing the illusion of stillness. A ladder appeared hanging down the side of the ship.  First spit-shined shoes appeared, then pant legs and then Grandpa in full dress uniform for the occasion.  To me, he was a Dwight Eisenhower look alike.  His cheer spread around as he hugged and kissed my cousins, siblings and me.  We were all beaming basking in the thrill of this unusual moment in time.  The Marilyn M had to return to service.  No time to dally.    Kisses goodbye and then as if in a nonsensical dream, I watched as first my grandfather and then my grandmother in a dress disappeared up the side of a moving freighter on a ladder.  The Marilyn M pealed away and quiet revelry filled the passenger space behind the captain. Bouncing our way through the freighter’s wake, we returned to the dock. The whole experience probably took only 15 minutes but is branded indelibly in my memory.  When I asked my sister and cousin about their memories of the event, my sister,  said she was mortified to see Grandma’s underwear as she ascended the ladder.  Cousin Joe says he was terrified Grandma would fall.  

  Years later, in my twenties when dear Grandpa Bell died, I imagined a ladder coming down from the clouds and a voice saying, “Come on board, Chester, a life well lived!”