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(edward@ordman.net)
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This story has appeared in the Christian
Science
Monitor.
Untraditional,
but
an heirloom nonetheless
December 29, 2003
My wife and I have rearranged our computer
desks recently,
having replaced our big computers with laptops. I've been
building some shelves
for all the gadgets plugged into them. I'm not skilled with
tools, and calling
my shelves rustic would be far too complimentary. We have a
son-in-law who does
skilled woodworking, and the dining-room tables he has made
for some members of
the family will qualify as heirlooms. My shelves won't; but
working on them has
made me reflect on what it takes for something to become an
heirloom. It may
not be the quality of the object - but the story that goes
with it.
I have to back up a bit. Through the 1950s, my
father was a
civil servant, and my mother was a frequent volunteer with the
Parent Teacher
Association and the League of Women Voters. In the early
1960s, President
Kennedy appointed my father to a more important job, and he no
longer had
restrictions on his political activity (although he had no
political
ambitions). My brother was still in high school, and my mother
didn't want a
regular job - but she did have strong
political feelings. So
she decided to run for Democratic Party precinct captain in
our precinct in
suburban Maryland.
I was the only family member unenthusiastic
about her idea. I
was a great admirer of the incumbent precinct captain, Mr.
Bull. Two of his
sons were in my Boy Scout troop. Mr. Bull came along on our
hikes and camping
trips, and he was much better at outdoor activities than my
own father.
Besides, his campaign signs, which read simply "VOTE BULL,"
had been
fixtures in the area for many years and appealed to my
adolescent sense of
humor. Still, I did have to admit that I liked the candidates
my mother
supported in primary elections more often than I liked those
supported by Mr.
Bull.
My mother wanted to run her campaign on almost
no budget, and
she decided to forgo signs. She was well known in the area,
due to her
volunteer activities. She recruited my brother and his friends
to go out
campaigning for her on Halloween night, which fell just a few
days before the
Nov. 4 election. They were organized so that one of them would
knock on the
door of each house in the precinct, and say, "No, I don't want
candy, the
treat I want is for you to vote for Evelyn Ordman for precinct
chairman on Nov.
4."
Some voters told my mother later that they were
really impressed
when the kids actually politely declined to take any candy.
(Later that
evening, of course, they had a Halloween party in our
basement, complete with
all the candy they wanted.)
Some friends with more experience in politics
insisted she
needed at least some campaign supplies. One
of them decided to
force the issue by making an in-kind campaign contribution: He
ordered 100
yardsticks, imprinted "Elect Evelyn Ordman Democratic Precinct
Captain
November 4th." He felt these could be passed out at
appropriate meetings.
Evelyn campaigned without the aid of
yardsticks. I don't know if
the order was placed late, or the printer had political views,
but the
yardsticks were delivered on Nov. 7, three days after she had
won the election.
And while she was reelected once or twice before turning her
attention to a job
working for the county school board, none of the later
elections fell on a Nov.
4.
So in the years that followed, my family had a
very large supply
of yardsticks. They were used for craft projects and anything
else that came to
mind. But 40 years later, a few are still around - perhaps
enough for one for
each of the candidate's great-grandchildren, who have now
started to arrive.
I realize that my newly constructed shelf unit
may never become
a treasured family keepsake. But the yardstick I used in
measuring the boards
to make it is, without a doubt, a family heirloom.