It was quiet on the narrow streets of the outskirts of Cleveland, Ohio. The year was 1963 and life moved slowly. Early in the morning the entire town was alerted to the sound of the factory awakening, calling most local residents to work. US Steel was booming. Most local residents worked at the factory. It was good stable pay, and the amount of work only increased at all times. Earl woke up early that morning. The sun was barely showing itself, but the roosters already sang their annoying song. Earl laid on the cot for a few extra minutes and got up. His trusted dog, Bobby lifted his head. Earl cracked a smile.
- You’ll have to wait till the end of day to eat, like everyone else. Time for me to go earn that money, so I can feed you all.
His wife, Mary, was 6 months pregnant with their 7th child, but she was already up, feeding the chickens in the barn, and trying to milk their food-deprived skinny cow. The cow gave birth too long ago, so it was hard to get any milk from her, no matter how hard Mary tried. The 4 chickens, ones they hadn’t slaughtered yet, were slow to lay eggs. Earl knew that eventually they’ll be too hungry to wait and kill them off one by one, but for now they kept hope for a few miracle eggs to feed the younger kids. Adults all waited to eat till the end of the day and the baby was fed by Mary’s breast milk. She had no business having another child, they could barely feed the ones they had, but Earl tried punching her in the belly early on and gave up, as it didn’t work. He heard that in a village nearby there was some guy taking care of it with a hanger, but his neighbor’s wife came back from there bleeding, and didn’t stop bleeding till she died. Earl walked out of the house and looked up. The sky was still mostly dark. He reached for the bucket of water hanging over the well and almost fell, as their cat was lying there. The cat hissed and Earl kicked it in the side. He was hoping to hurt it, so the cat would feel just as miserable as he felt, but the kick didn’t land well. The cat let out a drawn-out howl and ran off. Earl was already working at the plant for a few years, but he wasn’t very well respected. They kept on putting him in the part of the factory filled by the colored. Those savages didn’t know how to behave. All day long they’d sing their gritty songs, with the same lines repeating over and over. Those men probably drank all of their earnings, because their kids kept on robbing all over town. The cops would catch them and beat them senselessly, but it made no difference at all. A few months ago, Earl found a $5 dollar bill and decided to have some fun. He went to the part of town, known for lose street walkers and cheap booze, but all he could afford, after spending most of the $5 on drinking, was some poorly dressed colored woman with nappy hair. At least he now understood why their kids were always scheming and robbing. Their fathers were drunks and mothers were street walkers. Perhaps there was more to it, but Earl hated them all, nonetheless. He wouldn’t let them even stand near him at bus stops or look into his eyes. Earl wasn’t a mean man. He was just tired of being treated the same as those savages. The date was November 23rd and his light jacket was no longer enough to keep him warm, only adding to his misery.
He knew that once he gets old, he’d sit on the veranda of his future house in a rocking chair, slowly sipping cheap whiskey, and telling his life’s stories to his grandchildren. He sincerely hoped that at least they would feel sorry for him. For now, this entire side of town lived the same way, so nobody would listen to his complaints. As he walked to the bus stop on the way home from work, he saw many panicked faces. Some were crying, some looked lost. Everyone was exchanging sentences, but they were hard to understand. Finally, he saw one of his neighbors and asked what happened. Apparently, the President was shot and killed. Earl didn’t care for politics much. He didn’t care for much of anything at all, but this seemed pretty radical. The only silver lining was hope that colored kids would be separated from white kids in school again, as the next President would hopefully roll back the changes.
Many decades passed. Earl was retired, mostly toothless, but as he envisioned, he sat on a porch of his house looking into the horizon all day. He’d chain-smoke his unfiltered cheap cigarettes, only stopping to cough insistently. He did sip his whiskey every now and then, but he had to dilute it in water, as his heart became to weak to drink the liquor at normal strength. On the bright side, it allowed him to make the bottle last far longer. He tried telling the stories of his 7 children, 4 of whom died before reaching adulthood. He would recall the skinny cow, which died before they killed it for meat; the chickens, which got stolen before they ate them; and his wife Mary, who died giving birth to their 7th child. He told about the colored coworkers, who annoyed him; and their kids, who’d rob him every time he’d get drunk. Two of his still living kids stayed with him. His grandkids grew up and mostly left the state. US Steel moved to Pennsylvania long ago, and jobs were seemingly anywhere, but their town. At times he’d catch his great grandkids and get them to listen to his stories, but as soon as those grew up, they refused to listen to Earl’s stories of bigotry toward the blacks, women, and even animals. They asked him questions about JFK’s killing, but Earl mostly just remembered his disappointment, that it didn’t roll back the changes of the time. Somehow, it only upset the kids further. Earl was convinced that they weren’t raised right and didn’t have any respect for the elders. They kept on insisting that times have changed, and his stories horrify them. He knew, that the times he loved were gone for good, but he no longer cared. His America was gone, and all he could do was reminisce about it. Most major cities had gay parades. Mixed marriages were a norm, just as gay marriages. Abortions were readily available at any clinic. He had to call colored ‘African Americans’. He couldn’t even shoot stray dogs anymore. His white grandson got passed for a promotion given to a colored. So, he sat, drank, smoked, coughed, and didn’t talk much to anybody.
60 years after 1963 life seemed to have changed in unbelievable ways. The Cold War was over, albeit Russia is once again the enemy. China no longer supplies the US with dirt cheap products, and instead is flooding the global market with state-sponsored goods, about to attack Taiwan and also become the enemy, like 50 years ago, before Nixon’s visit to the Asian country. Newly appointed conservative Judges on SCOTUS outlawed the 50-year precedent of the right to abortion. Clarence Thomas already promised to try and outlaw contraception and gay marriages. Federal agencies lost power once again, as the Chevron Deference was overruled after 40 years of being in force. To make matters even more reminiscent of the times long passed, the US Presidential candidate was almost assassinated, and conspiracy theories began to run amok, no different from when JFK and his brother, Bobby, were murdered. Diversity and inclusion efforts were ruled borderline illegal. The President is allowed to do anything he wants, as long as he is President, whether it is to overthrow the government or cheat on taxes. Project 2025 is promising to make us all Christian again, as Louisiana is already requiring every classroom to display the Ten Commandments, changing the very nature of our Constitution.
Beyond the grave, the toothless Earl got his wish back, but is the country truly ready to have investment bankers, Venture Capitalists, Private Equity partners, and tech billionaires pay their tithe to the Church? On one hand, 10% is less that the current Federal tax. On the other, even the now toothless government and dysfunctional Congress, may not be ready to just bow down to the President. After all, isn’t that how every dictator in history got started in a democratic nation, be it Napoleon, Hitler, or Mao Zedong?
