APPALACHIAN TALES: A SOCIALIST IN THE MOUNTAINS

Eugene V. Debs the actual factual American Socialist campaigning in the early 1900's

by Grant McGee

            Well, that was a hot time in the old town with that big ol’ presidential election.  To tell you the truth I had a gut feeling that Trump fellow would win.  It occurred to me when The Lady of the House and I went to early vote and we stood in line with a phalanx (maybe it’s not the right word but that’s how I’d describe it) of people who had arrived in cars with “TRUMP” bumper stickers.

            Now my grandma told me you don’t talk about politics or religion with friends, but hey, it’s just you and me here.

            So are you a Republican?  Democrat?  Independent?  Green?

            I registered as a SOCIALIST once.

            Now, now, now, don’t get your dander up.  If you study American history you’ll see that once upon a time you’d find a Socialist on the ballot during the presidential elections from 1900 to 1920.  Just look up the story of Eugene V. Debs.

            Following Debs’ idea wasn’t quite as radical as European Socialism.  It basically called for American workers to take over the government and the “means of production,” then everyone would live happily ever after.  At least that’s the way I interpreted it from one of my college classes.

            Yeah, I registered as a Socialist in West Virginia where I was living at the time.  I hadn’t been out of college very long and I was kind of disillusioned about a few things.  I thought there was a groundswell rising on the grass roots level of general disillusionment with the country during the Reagan years and surely I was on the leading edge of something by becoming a Socialist.

            Of course being a Socialist during the time when President Reagan referred to the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics as the “Evil Empire,” during one of the more tense times of the Cold War, was probably not a good idea.  But hey, I was banking on the idea that America is “land of the free” and that we pride ourselves in our philosophy of free speech.

            I signed up for the party paper and got a little freaked out when the first issue arrived.  It was addressed to “Comrade Grant McGee.”

            Then I started getting mail from some old Socialist dude who lived in Brooklyn, New York about 400 miles away from me in West Virginia.  He addressed me as “comrade” too, wanted to know if I’d make it up to the “Big Apple” for the big May Day rally (the first of May is known as “International Worker’s Day”).  He told me I was the only Socialist on his list for the whole state of West Virginia and there were only a handful of others in Washington, D.C., just over the mountains.

            Maybe a month after I registered as a Socialist my mail started coming to me already opened.  Well, okay, not all of it, but enough to make me wonder what was going on.

            I marched down to the local post office, about as big as four standard outhouses roped together.

            “My mail is being opened by the government,” I said with all the self-righteous, testosterone and vinegar 20-something indignation I could muster whilst thumping my index finger on my opened envelope I had tossed on the counter.

            The guy behind the counter looked over the top of his glasses at me.

            “Really,” he said.

            “Yeah, and I think it’s because I registered to vote as a Socialist.”

            I think he tried to keep from laughing out loud.

            “Um, there’s been a problem with the mail coming out of our processing center,” he said.  “A lot of people’s mail is getting damaged.”

            I stood there for a minute.

            He and I looked eye-to-eye.

            “Well,” I said.  “Don’t I look like an asshole.”

            He laughed out loud.

            “You’re okay buddy,” he said.  “Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”

            Then I tried to vote in a primary.  Though there were no Socialists on the ballot there were some other folks I wanted to vote for.

            I walked in to the polling place.

            “You can’t vote, you’re registered as a Socialist,” said the lady behind the desk after she looked up my name.

            “What?  What?”  I said (again) with all the self-righteous, testosterone and vinegar induced 20-something indignation I could muster.  “What kind of deal is this!  It’s a free country, I should be able to vote as I choose.  This is a right-wing conspiracy!”

            The lady leaned back in her chair.

            “You didn’t grow up around here, did you,” she said.  “You can’t vote in the primary because there are no Socialist candidates.  If there were any Socialist candidates we’d let you vote all you want one time.”

            “Oh,” I said.  “I’m sorry.  I reckon I look like a real…jerk.  Sorry.”

            The lady smiled.

            “We’ve had worse,” she said.  “You should see some people when they come down here and find out they’ve been removed from the rolls for not voting for years.”

            Not long after that I went down to the county courthouse and changed my registration to one of the more mainstream American political parties. 

            Not long after that my mail stopped coming to me damaged.

            I reckon they fixed the machine at the central processing center.

                                                        -30-