Not My Grandfather’s Party

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My grandfather was a dapper gentleman who wore a suit to work complete with pocket protector, and it mattered not he was a committeeman at the old Dodge Main Plant in Detroit, nothing but a suit would do. In a younger day, he moonlighted at Detroit Arthur Murray Dance Center teaching ballroom dancing to immigrants with two left feet, and he could take shorthand at a proficient rate because he said it kept him mentally alert. During the 13 year confinement of James R. Hoffa, President of International Brotherhood of Teamsters, my grandfather became his pen pal truly believing he had been imprisoned falsely, and was rewarded by a visit from Mr. Hoffa after his release.  Most of all, I remember my grandfather being a dyed in the wool Democrat who spoke of Governor George W. Romney (1963-1969) like he was a family friend, and actively campaigned for the Humphrey/Muskie campaign in 1968.

These days, I look around at the Democratic Party that my grandfather held so close to his heart, and I cannot help but wonder if the current Democratic Party and the Democratic Party my grandfather so loved are one and the same?  That party my grandfather loved was a party for laborers, immigrants, blue collar workers, factory workers toiling in subhuman conditions for minimum wage, citizens who had been irrevocably damaged by the McCarthy Blacklist, persons without a voice falsely accused of crimes which they had not committed, and persons living without civil liberties as provided in the Constitution. Persons much like himself; the little people without political clout or great economic means.

It’s hard to say what happened to that party, but it appears to have died with Harry S. Truman. The Democratic Party of today supports radical groups that have made it a mission to kill police officers while refusing to support the Veterans, but is more than happy to increase the national debt through useless program spending and green energy and global warming initiatives. It is a Party for the elite who obviate, inveigle, and manipulate the Constitution to fit their needs, and is rife with special interest groups that have nothing to do with the little people and those without a voice but has everything to do with personal agendas and fraud, abuse and mismanagement of the government’s role in society. I don’t know whose Party it is, but I know it’s not mine, and sure not my grandfather’s Party, at least, not the Party he loved.

trump-1266569__180Vote For The Party That Cares

One thought on “Not My Grandfather’s Party

  1. Given that the Republican party also bears no relationship to the party of Lincoln, I’d say there’s a need for a middle ground. However, the misogyny, racism, homophobia and outright ignorance (“Climate change is a hoax”? “Russia won’t invade Ukraine.” Really?) trumpeted about by the Trump camp is a little too much hate speech for me.

    Sorry, but I can’t support that inflammatory rhetoric. Not to mention pandering to Putin.

    Like

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