America, the land I grew up in was a place where you respected police officers and fire fighters. You said thank you mam to the store clerk. If a neighbor told you to run along, you did so. If you were found in trouble at school, the worst nightmare was facing you when you got home. You didn’t go out of the yard without permission, and if you did the neighbor would call and tell your mother you were over at Jonnie’s house just to make sure she knew where you were.
All the family would gather together at reunions and holidays. Even the family drunk uncle Ned. They would put up with him on such occasions.
More or less, you respected your teacher, or any elder for that matter. Even the ones you didn’t like. (Adults as well as children.) It was a time when a kid had to earn a five cent piece doing chores and a time when all were thankful for what they had. A dime when a bottle of cold coca cola was sipped slowly on the back porch for an hour. Just to make it last and enjoy it longer.
It was a time to dream of what you wanted to be when you grew up. A time when anything was possible. Hopes were plenty and times were tough but few knew they were poor.
Those who were rich were the role models for those that desired the American dream. They weren’t the evil ones that needed to redistribute all their wealth. It was a time you wanted to shake the hand of a successful man and learn all you could from him.
It was a time when you went to work and you gave the boss all of your best. There was no time to mess around, there was a job to be done and you wanted to give it your best signature. Yes, these were the post war years I am describing. The times when America was mom, apple pie and the fourth of July. Fireworks and sparklers were the norm. A time once a year to remember the world war veterans, our founding fathers, the liberty bell, Ben Franklin and Abraham Lincoln. A time to honor God, family and country and forget the evils of the likes of Stalin and Hitler by never mentioning their name. It was a day of picnic baskets, cook outs and family gatherings of multiple sorts.
It was a time when other cultures were fascinating to learn about and everyone loved to speak to a foreigner. A time just predawn to the secret societies President Kennedy spoke about. The seeds we could not see were being planted to create unrest and undo main street, America, USA. The bicycle ice cream boy main street we had all cultivated and loved.
Is it possible to remember? Is it possible to return again to an America that has a dream? An America that has a vision for the future that does not involve sustainable development and an agenda of anything other than do unto others as you would have them do unto you?
America I am asking you now, is it? If it is….it will be rekindled by the man the GOP hates and the silent majority all love….that man is Donald John Trump. I await with eagerness to hear his name announced as the next president of the United States of America.
How about you? What do you believe is possible?
Dianne Marshall
