On the Sunday morning before the presidential election of 1960,
my father roused me from bed to go out to see John F. Kennedy as
his motorcade passed through a small town near our Connecticut
home.
On the Sunday morning before the presidential election of 1960, my father roused me from bed to go out to see John F. Kennedy as his motorcade passed through a small town near our Connecticut home. All along Kennedy’s route, people were standing five and 10 deep in the unseasonably cold November air. As JFK passed by, my dad hoisted me up above the crowd so that I could catch a glimpse of the man who would be elected the 35th president of the United States.
I was nearly 10 years old, and to see Jack Kennedy in person was an experience I would never forget. I’ll always remember that sunny smile and Kennedy’s shock of reddish brown hair and my surprise that on that frigid morning he was not wearing an overcoat. He was my first hero. Kennedy inspired me to have an interest in public service, politics and world affairs to an unusual extent for a boy growing up in a small, serene New England town.
Fast forward to 2003. Front-running Democratic presidential candidate Dr. Howard Dean comes to San Francisco. Dean, elected governor of Vermont five times, had impressed me on TV as the kind of northeasterner I knew so well from my early years: A straightforward, no-nonsense, down-to-earth kind of guy, maybe a bit dour at times, but totally reliable and honest to a fault. His ideas made a lot of sense to me – balance the federal budget, go after Osama Bin Laden instead of going it alone in Iraq, and put a practical plan for health care on the table.
I admired his values, too: Dean’s a good family man who often flies back to Vermont to watch his son play on his high school hockey team, even in the midst of this campaign. He respects his wife, who’s also a doctor and doesn’t use her as a prop out on the political stump.
Recalling my experience of seeing Kennedy as a child, I decided to take my two sons, ages 10 and 8, up to the city to see Howard Dean in person. I didn’t quite know what to expect. Or how they’d react. Dean was appearing at Masonic Auditorium, and we bought tickets to see his speech and then to meet him afterward in a small, private gathering of supporters.
The former governor of Vermont came out onto the stage with a wide smile and his arms raised in the air almost like a referee signaling a touchdown. He started off by giving his standard stump speech, explaining his key stands on the economy, health care and the war, pretty much what I had seen before on CSPAN. But this time he added a few nuances that I hadn’t heard before.
Dean is just a few years older than me, and he began talking about his own high school and college days, when Martin Luther King gave his legendary “I Have a Dream” speech, and when we passed the Civil Rights laws and launched the War on Poverty.
“In those days we had a sense that we’re all in this together,” Dean said, as he brought me back to my own teenage years when I was a student volunteer tutoring African American and Puerto Rican kids in math. “We can bring back that sense of community, where people care about each other and where no one goes without health care and a good education, and a safe, affordable place to live.”
I looked over at my boys. They were leaning forward so they could soak up every word, every gesture of the man on the stage 50 feet away.
By the end of the speech he had us all on our feet as he bellowed, “The power to take America back is not in my hands, but in yours. You have the power!” It was a call to service, to change the country in a positive, hopeful and fiscally responsible way. The 2,000 people in the auditorium spontaneously erupted in a huge ovation as Dean finished and bounded off the stage to work the crowd, signing autographs and shaking hands while dozens streamed past us to meet him.
A little while later we caught up with him in a gathering of about 50 people. This was our chance to actually shake his hand and exchange a few words as he gave us autographs. When he saw my boys, his eyes lit up. He bent down and smiled at them, gently shaking their small hands. Luckily they did not shy away and on their own, they asked him to sign a paper they had brought.
Unlike other presidential candidates I have met over the years, Dean actually paused for a few seconds and directly looked me in the eye as he gave me a warm, firm handshake. He reminded me of our family doctor, which is exactly what he was before he entered politics part-time in the early eighties.
Ever since we met Howard Dean last autumn, there hasn’t been a day when my boys have failed to ask me how Dean is doing. Frankly, the campaign hasn’t yet gone as well as we hoped, but that hasn’t stopped my older son, the 10-year-old, from writing letters on behalf of Dean to undecided voters in New Hampshire. He’s gotten two handwritten letters in return, including one from a kindly grandmother who expressed the hope that one day her children and grandchildren would have a chance to vote for my son for president.
As for me, I haven’t been involved in politics since high school Student Council, but I was just elected as a Dean delegate for the 11th Congressional District for our March 2 presidential primary, as Morgan Hill’s sole representative. Gov. Dean would have to win over 60 percent of the votes for me to have a chance to go to the Democratic National Convention in Boston this July, a most unlikely scenario.
But in any case, it looks like, win or lose, the three of us have found ourselves a hero. In this post-9-11 world, that’s not a bad thing.
David Gerard, an 11-year resident of Morgan Hill, is a management consultant. He recently became active in Democractic Party politics. Mo*******@*ol.com
