My Dad‘s Politics

Originally uploaded by O. Douglas Jennings
Pictured: My dad, R. E. Jennings, Peoria, 1960 (the year I was born).

It was nearly a family tradition that my dad made breakfast for us all. His omelets were amazing and he'd make extra bacon for us to use to make BLTs for lunch. Sometimes busy schedules would mean a cereal breakfast, but I always loved the times when I was able to eat a sit-down, bacon, egg and toast breakfast with mom and dad (especially, I must confess, on those occasions later in the life of our family when I had them all to myself when none of my five siblings were around).

I was a commuting college student and still living at home, when my dad and I would often have political discussions over breakfast. I was an early 80s Reagan Republican and he was an FDR Democrat. We would discuss social, fiscal, foreign policy and other issues but there was never any anger or raised voices.

My dad had grown up during the Great Depression. As a 16-year-old from a poor family in Southern Illinois, he spent a Summer in the Civilian Conservation Corps instituted by then President Franklin Roosevelt to keep young men employed by enlisting them (voluntarily) to be involved with building the country's infrastructure: roads, bridges, etc. He said he came back home at the end of those three months having grown several inches in height and equipped with working skills that would serve him his whole life (including during stints in both World War II and the Korean War). Since that time, dad was a lifelong Democrat who appreciated the government's role in helping the unfortunate get on their feet during hard times.

By the time I was in college, I had been attracted to the Cold-war-fighting, Pro-Life stance, and inspiring message of Ronald Reagan and the Republican party of that era. So my dad and I had some differences on what political party we felt would best serve the country.

I won't get into the point-by-point give and take during our conversation, that's not what I remember most fondly. What I cherish about our discussions was our mutual respect, thoughtfulness and lack of rancor.

One morning, my mom had to leave early for work at her teaching job. After a relatively spirited discussion which ended in no agreement between us, my dad and I were putting away the breakfast dishes. Dad turned to me and said, as if to make an important footnote, "I just want you to know that your mother and I are proud of you and we love you."

I can't remember what I said in return. I was a bit stunned. We didn't exchange "Hallmark moment" hugs. Dads didn't tell their kids "I love you" much in those days.

But that is the one time that I remember having actually heard my dad say those words. Although he had always lived them by his hard work and care for our family. He wasn't an outgoing, talkative man. He'd say what was most important to him. So those words were measured and heartfelt. And I keep them in my heart as a type of anchor even though it's been nearly 30 years since my dad passed away. After being on this planet for over 60 years now, I realize how lucky I am to have those words from my father to cherish when many might not.

So during these days of political discourse when people calling themselves Democrats and Republicans are demonizing one another and attributing dastardly motives to each other, I remember a time when I could have a political discussion with someone holding another view without animosity or self-righteous indignation. I miss that. I'm hoping that eventually all of us will realize we need to listen to one-another's views with respect, and consideration and strive for ways we can live and work together. Hope is all I have on that front right now.