WHAT'S RIGHT ABOUT NEBRASKA? How the Dems Lost the Heartland of American Populism

TKO – “Technical Knockout”?

Tsunamis, Katrinas, and OUTBURSTS! TKO! But, is Bush really down and out, or do we witness a form of “rope-a-dope” – an unplanned strategy orchestrated by “the roaring of the waters” and political winds of fortune? Don’t kid yourself, this fighter’s clever enough to wear down his opponents far and near . . .

This article is both old and fresh (nothing like visiting the immediate past for lessons unlearned for the immediate)—especially, given the fact that the Democrats attempted (but miserably failed) to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat in Ohio in the special congressional election (August, 2005). We used to do that when I played football . . . underdogs by 5 TDs and we only lost by a field goal—hey, we actually won—given the fact our loss was an embarrassment to the other team, right? So gleefully the Dems. jump on the Dean bandwagon of interpolation and witness a sea change in the American body politic—that’s like saying we went to Iraq to spread democracy and freedom. Frankly, when Dr. Dean wakes up, after just missing the ferry (nice jump, though), the Dems. will do another revisionism of history and we’ll all take a deep breath, sigh of relief, as the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Liberal Democrats don’t get it. America’s “book ends” don’t get it. Kerry’s on a boat somewhere and will wait until next week and film it. Barbara Streisand has never even seen it and wouldn’t know it if it were starring her right in the face. George Soros is scared to death of it; while, MoveOn.org knows it’s coming right at them—but, alas, Thomas Frank, allegedly, a recent convert from it, really can’t figure it out either—though try he may. Thomas sees and attempts to analyze it in “What’s the Matter with Kansas: How Conservatives Won the Heart of America,” but discovers “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.” Now, I’m not saying that I really see it all either—however, since East Coast transplant Frank, from affluent Johnson County near Kansas City, KS tried to figure it out—why can’t I give it a shot, since my ancestors, who hail from the heartland, are the victims of his analysis; and, besides, I’ve been transplanted to the Left Coast? Furthermore, I bear strong Populist Democratic roots `a la William Jennings Bryant, the Olympic-size looser of Democrat Presidential aspirations and Christian fundamentalist, all wrapped inside an enigma.

Truthfully, however, I’m a bit ambivalent in addressing the obvious—but for the sake of the effete left-wing of Americana who can’t see the forest for hugging the trees, nor distinguish adult stem-cell research from embryonic-stem cell research, I am pressed to do so and sidestep the remarks made by author Bill Watterson: The surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that it has never tried to contact us.

A TRIP THROUGH THE CORN BELT

It was just about overdue for me to head to Hastings, Nebraska and visit the land of my forebears. So, in the summer of 2003—traveling east on I-80—we plunged fifteen miles or so south and discovered where three generations of German-Russians landed to work for the Burlington Northern Railroad and carve out their homesteads about twenty miles east of Hastings College in a quaint little berg called Sutton. Johannes (changed to John), Karl (changed to Carl) and Georg (changed to George) knew full-well that the old patriarchal system which ruled their households, from Catherine the Great’s invitation in 1763 to homestead the Volga region (and keep out the marauding Moslems) until 1890 (when they landed on Ellis Island), was gone for good—this was AmeriKa!

Man, why did Dad leave this beautiful place (it was summer, wet, and not winter)—just because an old Dustbowl or something? Maybe Tom Daschle (also Volga Deutsch) knows why they left? Couldn’t believe it—there to my left was Spady Motors (huge—probably the biggest dealership in town) and related to me. Why, Grandmother Spady-Krieger would have been proud of me to own a car dealership. Then there was Krieger Electric—he looked pretty prosperous too. All hard working, no doubt. There was the little Emmanuel German Congregational Church—of course, on the south side of the tracks that run through Hastings (incidentally, the wrong side)—it’s now a little Church of Christ but still looks the same, and you could still see the old frozen-in-time warehouses near the tracks where scores of relatives worked.

Then off to see Hastings College—overwhelming for the size of Hastings—really kind of a neat place. Lots of cool, old looking buildings scattered amongst huge elms and one-third the price of California federalist-style mansions nestled throughout the campus area. You’d never know that in the 1950s and ‘60s this was the fulcrum, the bastion for Billy James Hargis’ Christian Anti-Communism Crusade. This private Christian College would have been the delight of the anti-evolutionist Bryant—and a great place to release a more modern version of his “Cross of Gold” speech.

FLASH TO SANTA CLARA, CALIFORNIA – c. 1950s

Mom was having a hard time choosing between Adlai Stevenson and Dwight D. Eisenhower. We were listening to these things called “conventions” on our super-doper Zenith Radio (could get short wave too)—didn’t have T.V. I think she finally voted for Ike—but I wouldn’t know that for sure, never asked—I mean, when you’re eight-years old, and being into dirt clod fights and all—didn’t care.

We moved to Sacramento and I started the third grade. Mom, now a single parent, did her best to raise us kids and wanted us to be near dad—that’s why we moved. She later got a job at the Almond Growers/Blue Diamond—got up everyone morning, made us breakfast, and took off to work in her neat little brown outfit, super early. One day she came home and told us kids—“Well, I’ve been fired! I tried to organize a labor union with the other girls and the bosses kicked us out . . . but the Teamsters are going to take care of me and you kids, so don’t worry.” I’ll never forget that day. “The Teamsters? Maybe they’re a baseball team that helps people like us?” . . .

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