Glimpses of An Election
"Most of the time I smelled a stink because there isn't any sewer system."
People were responding as to one of The Reverend's sermons.
"But you know that's true for Mexicans and true for more white people than you might think.
"That's just not right and I ask your help to change it. I don't claim I can do it all alone or all at once, but I'm willing to try and I need your help. Thank you."
To his surprise, Mr. Hank discovered he was on his feet applauding this white man. So were many others, including more than a few of the visiting whites. Marsh and Gillmor raised eyebrows to each other. They knew Clay was not going to win, but for the first time they wondered if he might get thirty-five or maybe even forty percent of the vote. Wendell Rogers allowed himself a grin even before Abbey Mae kissed him full on the mouth. The Abyssinian Baptist Community Church hadn't been host to such a secular rumpus since the meetings of the National Colored Farmers' Alliance back in the 1880s and '90s.
The crowd sat down by itself, as if realizing all at once they'd get more during the questions. Gillmor reminded them of the time limit, and to protect himself from any charges of bias (and to enjoy the scene) told Thorpe and Clay to take turns calling the questions.
"Mr. Thorpe, what's the big project of Mr. Burton's and Mr. Crown's that you mentioned?"
Thorpe had been thinking about that mistake as much as listening to Clay. He hadn't figured a clean way out of the corner he'd built for himself.
"I guess maybe I got carried away a bit on that. They were talking the other day about expanding the market for gas and oil, but that's all I can tell you."
Marsh tried and failed to choke a laugh, slapped his thigh hard to cover it.
"But how's that going to help us here?"
"That's easy -JOBS!"
"Hell, Crown don't hire one of us in a hundred jobs."
The man, a white, didn't wait for an answer; just got up and left, joined by a handful of others. Clay called on a white.
"I don't see how you got enough influence to do much even if you get elected."
"By myself I don't. But that isn't the only way politics works.
This is a very important election for everybody, but I think 'specially for President Truman. He needs every vote he can get, in the Congress as well as for himself. So if the people who vote for Democrats make it clear about the kind of things they want then he's got to do something about those things."
"OK, Mr. Clay, but what about right here?"
"Well, if I win then I go to The Congress standing for the things I talked about. If I lose, then Mr. Burton's still got to give some time to those who voted against him because otherwise they might convince others to vote against him next time. Can't count on people just doin' it over again."
The crowd was now exercising its own power, choosing by nods and pointing hands who was next.
"Mr. Thorpe, any of the money and jobs you talked about going to get us bus service and street lights and sewers and all the other things I could make my own little speech about?"
"Well, yes, Ma'am, I'm sure it will. We all know we need to do work at Five Corners and on 48th. Yes Ma'am."
Maggie was angry, disgusted. Mr. Hank had to hold firm on her shoulder to keep her from walking out.
"Well, now, Mr. Clay. So happens I agree with Mr. Burton that we don't need the National Guard to keep order in our elections. We can do that ourselves. So my question to you is where do you stand on the race question?"
Table of Contents
- Maggie and Mr. Hank
- The Reverend
- Squalls Along the Flight Line
- Flying Home to Church
- A Visit with The Judge
- Communion
- Afterthoughts
- Monday Morning With The Admiral
- Into the Dining Room
- On Toward Walking the Streets
- Glimpses of An Election
- The Dream and The Reality of Violence
- The Admiral Loses More Than a Few Good Men
- Down That Lonesome Road