The Letter by my Name

These are last days before early voting. Lots of comments out there, but very little supporting evidence to those comments. Messages from people saying they can describe me just by the term “Democrat”. Just like some bigots say a blonde is “dumb”, a smart black man is “uppity”, and a Native American is “savage”, many of the calls and messages I received in this campaign are from people who hear the word Democrat, and think “baby killers”, wanting something for nothing, kidnapping children from school and changing their sexes, paid protestors (because nobody would protest a war, high gas prices and child rape without being paid, right?) and everything evil in this world is the fault of Biden, Obama and those evil “dumocrats”.

To those that say these things, let me enlighten you. I grew up a child of the 70s. I saw Watergate, the first moon landing live, the JFK, MLK and RFK assassinations. The Civil Rights conflicts that broke out over protecting the rights of people of color to live and work in a free America instead of being relegated to the back of the bus and society. To see my Uncle Larry go to Vietnam and my mom crying and hugging him, not wanting him to go. He was lucky, he came back. We lost him a few years later, but he got to bring two children into this world. Some of his Army buddies never made it that far.

My maternal grandfather was part German, part Choctaw, and all Republican. He was a store owner and the most grounded, honest man I ever knew. My dad’s parents passed away when I was five, but I got to have my grandpa Fitzer in my life until his passing when I was 33. He greeted me every time with a hello and a handshake, he never wavered from that. He ran a general store in Kinta in the 1940s and 1950s. He became a postmaster after that until his retirement in 1969. He was mostly quiet, but when he spoke, it was important. He put a lot of thought in everything he said and how he said it. I learned how to treat people right from him.

My dad was a college graduate (first in his family), a Korea War veteran, and a lifelong school teacher and administrator. And, like all the Cummings family in that era, he was a Democrat. A conservative (he didn’t like spending his money or anyone else’s money either), but he knew the importance of education and worked to get the best teachers and the best resources the district could afford, because “by gawd, we had the best kids and we need to help them be the best adults someday”.

During 1974, the Watergate hearings were on TV, and that’s all people talked about. Who’s lying? Who did it? Did Nixon know? This was what we heard every day on TV. Of course, as you know, Nixon resigned on August 8, 1974, Gerald Ford became President, and we moved on, battered and bruised, but still America.

But when I look back, its what I didn’t see that I miss. My Republican grandpa and my Democrat dad talked about Watergate, and Nixon, and Vietnam. Both had strong opinions. Both could back up their positions. And both could sit at the same table, talk, eat, and finish their time together without anyone storming out, or calling the other a demon, or be anything less than a good role model for their impressionable grandkids in the room. And either one would have done anything to help the other.

This is what I miss.

I take pride in my 1960s-70s upbringing. I was in a small town with one stop sign, with young friends who didn’t worry about who is President and why some people vote one way and not another. But we had parents who wanted the best for us. They didn’t argue about politics like we do today. Only times I saw grandpa Fitzer mad is when he gets a call that we had a cow out in the road on Beaver Mountain. And dad would mostly just get mad when I would forget to shut a gate, or when I wanted to skip mowing the yard so I could go to the lake with friends. They wanted me to understand responsibility for myself and my actions.

This past couple of weeks, I had some people claiming to be Christians message me about how horrible I am to be a Democrat. And their words were not Christian at all. They told me all about my “kind” and what we do. The hate was in every line. I was always brought up to believe Jesus is love, but maybe they forgot that part.

To them I say, you don’t know me. You called me godless. You don’t know me. You see, I believe in God. I try to live my life according to how God wants me to live. He gave me a brain to think with, to make choices, and that by using my God-given talents and strengths for the greater good, I serve Him. I talk to God every day. Not once has he complained about my being a Democrat. He never told me I shouldn’t help others, he never told me it was wrong to associate with people trying to help those who need it. He never told me to check to see if they are R or D before offering help or advice,  or to question their journey through life.

Here is what God did tell me though. He told me at a young age to seek my own way through the life he gave me. To help others when I can, to ask for help when I need it. I don’t go around quoting scripture chapter and verse to prove I am living by Christian principles. Nope, I get up every day and live my life my way, without telling others that they are evil and I am righteous. I don’t have to prove that to anyone but myself and God. And He and I are good.

God told me two other things. One, on my third date with a pretty girl named Donna, he told me she is the one. That was 30 years ago, and she still is.

Two, while contemplating running for this office, I heard him in my conscience. He told me to follow my heart. So I ran for this office. Win or lose, I am a follower of truth and light. That can never be taken from me. No letter by my name defines me. I define me, not some pretenders who speak scripture but don’t understand what it truly means to be righteous and serving. I want to work on our state’s problems. I am not the problem, nor is my party.

If you made it through this far, I don’t know whether to congratulate you or tell you to get a life. But these are my words, no AI helped, no demon helped. But to those who still think we are all demons, put a mirror in your bathroom, and take a good look inside. Seek the Truth.

With my wife of 30 years by my side, wishing you peace and love, Blake Cummings