Some Things Are Really Important



By Connie Corcoran Wilson

When I read Christopher Graff’s AP interview excerpt with Howard Dean,
about his campaign in Iowa, in which he told the touching story of the
woman in a wheelchair in Iowa who gave him $50 in quarters at a
breakfast meeting…quarters that had come from her federal supplemental
income check…and told Governor Dean that she had been “saving the
quarters for two years, when she could, for something that was really
important—and that this was really important to her,” I was as
touched as Howard Dean was at the time, and I could readily identify.



I’m not
in a wheelchair. The money I contributed to Governor Dean’s campaign
wasn’t in quarters. But I am a retired schoolteacher to whom $2,000 is
a Big Deal. But, as with the woman of whom Howard spoke in his
interview, doing everything I could for Governor Dean’s campaign was
“really important” to me, regardless of the financial sacrifice and an
even Bigger Big Deal. The resurgence of faith in a candidate marked a
sea-change in my history of political involvement. I have Governor
Howard Dean to thank for that, no matter what else happens from now on.



Although
nominally a Democrat by birth and upbringing, like John McCain, I have
been known to cross political lines to support “the good guys.” I also
had not actively supported any candidate financially since 1960, when I
campaigned actively for John Fitzgerald Kennedy. I think I got an
allowance of $2.50 a week, at the time, so I’m sure my financial
contribution was minimal. I was 15 years old. Mainly, I wrote things
(like I’m doing now) and plastered them all over my high school. To wit:

    

        Nix on Nixon!

        Rah for Jack!

        This is the cheer

        That I will back.



        In November,

        You will see:

        It’s “Nix” on Nixon!

        Jack’s for me!



I then
pasted “JFK” stickers all over my locker door at Independence (Iowa)
high school, which, as I recall, earned me an in-school suspension and
Big Trouble at home. The administration was less than thrilled. But I
was young and enthused about “my” candidate.



When
John F. Kennedy, the youngest President and the first Irish Roman
Catholic ever was actually elected in 1960, I was exuberant, ecstatic,
elated, enthusiastic—(all those other extremely good “e” words that
indicate happiness!) That lasted until November 22, 1963 when they shot
my President down like a dog in the streets of Dallas. I was a college
freshman at the University of Iowa. That marked the beginning of my
disillusionment with the political process and my cynicism towards
power and those who would stop at nothing in grabbing for it. I never
believed the Warren Commission’s findings (as, indeed, over 70% of the
American public do not). I always felt, “If they can ‘sell’ THAT to the
American people as the truth, politics really is a dirty business,” as
my dear father, once a Democratic County Treasurer in Buchanan County,
Iowa, had always warned me. The Warren Commission’s findings and the
last Florida election results have a lot in common, in my book. I
retired from active politicking.



I
remained apolitical for 43 years. It wasn’t that heated debates didn’t
break out at my house, over political candidates. It was more that I
adopted the pragmatic philosophy “Save your money. Save your breath.
Vote, if you must, but don’t let politics suck you in. You’ll only get
hurt, in the long run. Look what they did to JFK.”



That
remained my operating philosophy until I first heard Howard Dean speak,
quite eloquently and straightforwardly, in a back yard in Muscatine,
Iowa, on a muggy summer night when the Cubs were playing St. Louis on
the radio. And my operating philosophy about politics changed even more
after I first attended a “Meet Up for Dean” rally at the downtown West
4th Street Davenport Dean Headquarters.



Each of
us present at the “Meet Up,” in turn, was asked to stand up and tell
why we were there. Our stories were remarkably similar, except that,
when it was my turn to stand up and speak my piece, I told the
assembled group about my 43 years of political inactivity, but endorsed
Dr. Dean’s honesty, intelligence, integrity, and grit and his ability
to inspire me with the sincerity of his message. I remember saying,
“It’s going to take money—lots and lots of money—to beat George W.
Bush, so everybody here better be prepared to dig very, very deep.”
(That from a woman who had not made a political contribution in 43
years!)



[After
my impassioned plea for funds, one older gentleman came over to me and
said, “If Howard drops out,…can we draft you?” (Sure. Why not? I’m
available. And semi-retired!]



From
that point on, I gave the Dean campaign headquarters on West 4th Street
everything I legally could give them—but—like the woman who had
hoarded her quarters until she found a cause that she felt could make a
difference—I wanted to know what my money was going towards when I
finally coughed it up and to be able to point to it and say, “I did
that!.” None of this contributing to anonymous campaigns and never ever
knowing what happened to those hard-earned greenbacks. I told Alex and
Ryan, who were running the show in Davenport, that I “will know when
the time is right” for the $2,000 maximum contribution allowed by law.
They might have thought I was “all show and no go,” but that is not my
style. I meant it.  I, too, wanted to “make a difference,” and,
for me, it would indeed be a Big Deal to make such a contribution. And
almost certainly bound to set off further controversy on the home
front, as well. [We had, after all, already duked it out verbally over
my plan to host two “Texans for Dean” in our basement. Luckily, they
ran out of Texans, before I ran out of  husbands.]



Before I
found the right moment to seize the day, I lent the Davenport
headquarters 3 fans (It was stifling hot on West Fourth Street that
summer!), 17 folding chairs, and the use of my brand-new Sony laptop
computer, which Charles Woods of Greeley, Colorado, promptly adopted as
his own. (To his eternal credit, Charles would later make sure that I
got my computer case back, by mail, at the college where I was
teaching, months after the campaign was over and Dr. Dean had withdrawn
from the race.)



First, I
tried to sign over a third-party check written me by my staunch
Republican brother-in-law, the attorney, to the campaign. It was a
$2,000 check written to me to repay me for a family outing for 15 to
the Wisconsin Dells (all of it on my credit card.) I really wanted to
see the look on my conservative Republican brother-in-law’s face when
he got a note “thanking” him for his contribution to Howard Dean’s
campaign. That would have been GREAT! (And so typical of me).
Unfortunately, that plan crashed and burned, so I kept biding my time,
waiting for the time to be “right,” waiting to make my move.



Then, the moment-of-truth arrived. And I knew that this was “It.”



The week
before the Iowa caucuses were to be held on January 19th, the Davenport
headquarters received word that Drs. Howard and Judy Dean, along with
Tom Harkin, would be attending one final rally at Davenport North High
School on the Sunday before Monday’s January 19th Iowa caucuses. The
timing was critical. At that point in time, “the new kids on the
block”—-Kerry and Edwards—were getting all the press. If Governor
Dean had walked down Davenport’s main street naked, I doubt if the
local press would have covered it.



So, I
approached the Powers-that-Be in the Dean campaign and, based on having
placed advertising for three businesses in my day, I asked if I could
compose and finance a large ad that would highlight Governor Dean’s
visit. Of course, the campaign would have to approve it before it ran.
I had hopes that $2,000 would pay for a full-page ad in the Sunday,
January 18th, Quad City Times. This, of course, had to be cleared with
Dr. Dean’s campaign workers in Des Moines and had to be coordinated,
and…most importantly to the Times—had to be paid for in advance, with
a small notation that it had been “Paid for by Connie Wilson” running
at the bottom. This was particularly worrisome to me, as I was not
mentioning that fact around my house. (In fact, that day’s Sunday Times
mysteriously disappeared entirely for a while). But I trotted off to
the Times office with the approved ad we had hammered out, complete
with a photo to accompany it, and placed an almost-full-page ad that
said “COME MEET HOWARD DEAN TODAY!” Maybe you remember it? If not, rest
assured that I do. It cost $1,996.28. I was “maxed out,” financially.
From that point on, I had to confine my contributions to ordering
sweatshirts from the Dean web-site. Which I did, repeatedly: Howard
strangling a kitten. Gifts for all!



After
reaching Critical Mass financially, I called up my college roommate and
long-time best friend in Des Moines and told her that, if I could
donate $2,000 to Howard Dean, she could donate 2 hours of her time, and
furthermore, that she needed to find another person who would stand up
and be counted as a Dean delegate in her District in Des Moines. When
she said, “I don’t know anyone who is going. I’d be all alone,” I told
her that I would drive to Des Moines (I did) and accompany her to the
polling place. This was a 7-hour drive, round-trip, but well worth it,
to me. I wanted to give this effort everything I  had.



So it
was that I happened to be at Precincts 70 and 71 in a middle school in
Des Moines on that Monday night with two Dean delegates in tow. And,
later, at the ValAir Ballroom when Dr. Dean, bravely trying to rally
the troops in the face of defeat, gave what has come to be called the
“I Have A Scream” speech (and was pilloried and crucified in the press
thereafter), I was there. I was there when the most honest man in
politics shot himself in the heart, rather than the foot. I still
admire that man….still think he represents honesty and true grit in
politics…still support him. Like the woman in the wheelchair, I would
do it all over again, even knowing how it has turned out. Because, as
both of us in this story felt, “This (election) is really important to
me.” And this election is very important to our nation as it stands at
a critical crossroads. We must all remember that in the days ahead and
work with that thought uppermost in our minds, because the stakes, this
time, are very, very high.



And I would give Dr. Dean MY quarters all over again!