Monday, June 22, 2015

Thoughts from a New Grandfather on Fathers Day

6/21/2015
Sandy Evander Jones was my Grandfather. Here are a few facts about him.  He was born in Sumter South Carolina. Later he attended and graduated from Allen University in Columbia South Carolina,a college founded by the African Methodist Episcopal Church he grew up in.
Shortly after graduating,he was called by the Army to serve in World War I . He received a Distinguished Service Cross for his actions during that war.

Now what a lot of people don't know,and what is largely hidden from American History is that in the segregated US Army of World War I,it was the black battalions largely placed on the front lines.
As anyone can see looking at any old footage of that War,can say it was no joke. Face to Face combat,foxholes and Poison gas openly used. The word was my grandfather performed the same acts of heroism,facing greater danger than Sgt. Alvin York. Yet it was Sgt. York,a white soldier who received the Congressional Medal of Honor and afterwards became an American hero,starring in movies. President Woodrow Wilson,an avowed racist was not about to award the highest award to a black man. Sandy Jones never had much nice to say about another World War I "hero" Gen.John "Blackjack" Pershing either.
After the war,my grandfather returned home,married his longtime sweetheart,Annie Louise Moore,moved to Washington DC took a job with the Census Bureau,and after a couple tragic miscarriages,had my mother Helen Louise.
By the time I came onto the scene along with my brothers,my grandfather was a successful real estate agent.
We called him Granddaddy.

Visiting  Granddaddy's house and his DC neighborhood to this Connecticut born and raised kid was akin to going back to another time,particularly in the 1960's. Coal heated his house. The Ice man on a horse and buggy would deliver blocks of ice for the ice box. I looked forward to seeing the horse and buggy run by the Watermelon Man. Garbage was burned in a barrel in the back yard,and it seemed as no one had an electric dryer as one would see clothes lines at every neighbor's home in sight.

Every summer,my mom and the Daniels brothers would embark on a journey to my granddaddy's house. We would leave on the day following  the last day of school and would only to return to Connecticut on the day before the first day of the next school year.

While Granddaddy lived in the Nation's Capitol,the rural sense of life never left him.In 1962,our family drove from Washington to the family homestead in Sumter,and my most vivid memory of that trip was my granddaddy,soon as the car stopped,taking his shoes off and walking down the dirt road.

He'd awaken soon as the sun began to rise,and would begin working on something...maybe it was something in the yard or in the house that needed repair,and it would drive him absolutely crazy that I preferred to spend my mornings in bed. My ability not to see a piece of paper dropped on the floor or notice that my shoes were untied would astound him.

His rural sense also emerged in a property he owned across from him home. The property was large enough for another house to be built there.He probably could have made more money by doing so.Instead that land was a garden,and neighbors were free to rent the space he wasn't using. He'd grow corn,tomatoes,okra,green beans and collard greens. He would take me to his garden,but it wouldn't be long before he would chase me back to his house after I'd step on one too many of his plants. He'd go on saying things like "You city boys have no idea where your food comes from..you think it comes from a store!"
He would take us boys to his real estate office.I'd write using the carbon paper,and draw on the chalkboard before complaining to him that I was bored.

The primary reason we would spend our entire summers in Washington was after my parents' divorce,my grandmother came to live with us to help my mom raise three boys. The summers gave my grandparents time to be together in their own house. We would see Granddaddy in Connecticut as well as he would visit at Thanksgiving,Christmas,and Easter.In addition,he would make "surprise" visits..sometimes where only my grandmother knew he was coming,and other times where he would surprise even her..One surprise visit got cut short upon news of Martin Luther King's assassination in 1968.Riots in DC forced him to return to check on his office.
Granddaddy and my grandmother had a particular banter between them. He'd call her "sister".My grandmother would answer back saying "I am not your sister! Your sister is Bertha"..,and she'd go down the line. It was not easy for them to be apart for months at a time.They did it because they felt it was in the best interest of the family to do so. There's another vivid memory of a "hot date" my Granddaddy and grandmother were supposed to have.The "date" was going to be on their front porch and not even my mom was going to be allowed there. A Daniels brothers spy mission proved to be disappointing as the "hot date" consisted of eating Watermelon and listening to Washington Senators baseball on the radio.

He knew about dealing with hardship and tragedy. In addition to the miscarriages, a doctor's experiment,similar to those done to Black Men in the Tuskegee Experiments left my grandmother crippled for life. There was nothing he could do about this situation.That event gave cause for him to encourage my mom's husband in pursuing his medical career. It was his belief that having more black doctors would reduce the risk of such experiments being performed.

Divorce can be hard for all involved,but Granddaddy continued to maintain a rapport with my Dad and continued to support the achievements in his career.
Granddaddy was a storyteller,there would be the war stories and the country stories,many he would tell over and over to the point where anyone listening could finish the story. I think that's the way he wanted it.
He'd use things I liked to make a point. Point to me: "Cleon Jones (New York Mets outfielder and my favorite player) isnt going to care about your life.He made his life,you're going to have to make your own!"
While my grandmother was big on baseball ,Granddaddy loved football. My love of football developed through watching games with him.
When my mom was back in school pursuing her Masters Degree,seeing as she could not spend the entire summer in DC,I decided to go to Washington on my own to spend time with Granddaddy.My mom and grandmother thought this was a disater waiting to happen.They knew his habits and they knew mine. Predictions of a blowup were rampant. Granddaddy did make sure I got out of bed early,and he did have a list of chores for me that were to be done by the time he returned home from work..Mowing the lawn was something you wanted to do early anyhow in the muggy Southern summers of Washington and I did learn that there was plenty of time to get the chores done and still goof off. It was one of the best summers of my youth.
At High School age for me,my grandmother decided it was time to spend the last days of her life back in Washington with Granddaddy.Shortly after returning,she was diagnosed with breast cancer and passed away after a year in Washington. As she was passing,she told us all something peculiar.She said she was going to take Sandy with her.

A year later Granddaddy was diagnosed with a terminal cancer. There's another memory of him being allowed to come home one last time,and over the loud protests of my mom and brothers,him grabbing a ladder and climbing on top of his garage to repair something he meant to fix before entering the hospital.

I was escorting Granddaddy to the bathroom at Walter Reed Army Hospital in Washington when he collapsed and died in my arms.

There's definetly something to influences and there very well could be something to spirits being passed on,but I'm the storyteller and gardener now.

If I could only be close to the influence he was to me to my own grandchildren..






Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Thumbnail Sketches:Adventures in Politics

One could say my life in politics began with the events of November 22,1963.It was shortly after those events is when I decided I wanted to be President of the United States.

Amongst many of my friends and classmates at the time,it was  preposterous to consider that a black man would ever be elected President much less for a black kid to think it should be a goal. As a kid I was laughed at,and sometimes cruelly teased for having that ambition. I can't say that treatment didn't hurt,but one person who never said it was impossible was my mother. Not only did she encourage me in my goal,but told me about the things I would have to do in order to get to the office.

Around 1964 or 1965,I participated in my first election campaign,leafleting on behalf of a neighbor and father of my best friend,Allen Hodge Davis who was a candidate for Hartford City Council. He lost. I remember being astonished wondering how come folks couldn't elect such a good man to office.Little did I know at the time that it wasn't going to be the last time I felt that way.

1968 was the year I first became involved in Presidential politics. Since November 22,the CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite had become my favorite show.Night after night there was coverage of the Vietnam War complete with casualty figures.Granted,I wasn't very good at Math,but something seemed fishy to me as to what was going on in Vietnam. I then became a weekend volunteer for the anti war candidate for President,Minnesota Senator Eugene McCarthy who challenged President Lyndon Johnson for the Democratic Nomination. This put me at odds with my mother who just four years earlier had worked for Johnson's election and whose political hero was Vice President Hubert Humphrey. Her admiration for Humphrey stemmed from his support of a civil rights platform in 1948. When President Johnson dropped out of the race in '68,my mom was enthusiastically behind the Presidential candidacy of Humphrey. Needless to say the dinnertime discussions got rather lively at times,but in reality I was following she had ingrained in us the Daniels brothers from a young age. "Stand up for what you believe in".

There was something else that concerned her about my involvement in the McCarthy campaign.Because of his anti war stance,the McCarthy campaign attracted a lot of "hippies".There were rumors of marijuana smoking at McCarthy campaign headquarters. I was questioned about possible marijuana usage every time I returned home from volunteering. I never observed any marijuana smoking at McCarthy headquarters,but I witnessed my first "smoke filled room" four years later at the local McGovern for President headquarters minutes after Richard Nixon was declated the winner by landslide. By now,I had experienced the plant.

The 1972 Democratic Platform Committee meetings in Washington D.C. was the last political event my mom and I participated in together,and it was my mom's meeting with a committee person from Alaska that led to my first meeting with Alaska's Senator Mike Gravel.

By 1972,I knew I would be attending college in Alaska. Part of my attraction to Alaska came from what I had concluded from my research on the state.Seemed to me that Alaska had a tendency to give a platform to "outside the box" political figures. Given who I seemed to be,and given what Alaska seemed to be,this was a good match.

Mike Gravel had first by his reading of the Pentagon Papers onto the Congressional Record and then by mounting an unorthodox candidacy for Vice President had already established himself as one who didn't play by "the rules" We hit it off immediately,and shortly after my arrival on the campus of Alaska Methodist University ,I became an unofficial liaison on student affairs to Sen. Gravel's office and would meet with him during his visits to the state. At AMU,I was elected to the Student Assembly largely by motivating students not normally inclined to participate  to vote,and by infusing pothead code words into my candidate statement published in the student newspaper.
It wasn't long after observing how power operated that I found myself becoming disillusioned with politics,and for the first time since November 22,1963,I became unsure as to what I wanted to do in life. Also by now marijuana smoking had become a regular part of life and I began to reason that a person who "inhaled" had no shot at becoming President. Those factors played no small role in my decision to leave college.

At the time I dropped out,I figured I'd spend a year away to experience life outside of campus and either return to politics renewed or pursue my newly discovered interest in theater.I was not counting on spending the next 8 years of my life with Gospel Outreach!

In the beginning of my time with G.O. strict withdrawal from "the world" was practiced, That  withdrawal meant not participating in politics. Around the time I was to leave Alaska to join G.O.'s New York branch,word had gotten back that an Evangelical Christian,the Governor of Georgia Jimmy Carter was running for the Democratic nomination for President. There were also some churches stating,that Former California Governor and Actor Ronald Reagan,then challenging President Gerald Ford for the Republican nomination was "God's Chosen". When I arrived in Brooklyn,the discussion at G.O. still centered on whether participation in politics helped to advance the "Kingdom" or not,but voting in the 1976 Presidential Election or not was going to be left between God and us.
That Presidential election was the first where I was eligible to vote.From November 22,1963 on,I had looked forward to the day where I could cast a ballot. Now,whether I was going to be "allowed" that opportunity was going to be left in the hands of "elders". Once it was left to us,there was no way I was not going to vote on Election Day. In that Presidential election,with evangelical Jimmy Carter and President Gerald Ford Democrat and Republican respectively,I cast my first Presidential ballot for Independent Eugene McCarthy.

Around the period of time of events leading to my departure from G.O.,I had befrriended a man named Dwight Filley. I first met Dwight at a candidates forum in Denver where he was a candidate for Congress representing the Libertarian Party. The ideas of the Libertarian Party were not new to me. While at AMU,I had met representatives of the newly formed party,It's ideas on limited government had appeal to this  college student,who was witnessing abuse of government power both on domestic and foreign fronts. Later,I became aware that Eugene McCarthy had glowing words to say about the Libertarian candidate for President in 1980.
After leaving G.O.,one of the first social events I would regularly attend was the monthly Libertarian Party cocktail parties held in a Capitol Hill home. I later discovered that the Libertarian Party's birthplace was Denver,and I met one of its founders,Colorado resident  David Nolan at the one of the gatherings.It was also through the cocktail parties where I met and befriended another former East Coast resident now living in Denver named Doug Anderson.

I jumped back into politics full bore as the campaign manager for the Libertarian candidate for the Colorado State House in Capitol Hill. He didn't win,but the Denver Post in its endorsement of the Democratic opponent acknowledged the visibility of the campaign.

It was a beer soaked discussion at a pizza joint with Doug on Denver's East Colfax Avenue led to the 1987 run for Mayor of Denver. With the race technically being a non partisan one,it was believed there was a chance for Libertarian ideas to gain  more attention without the stigma attached to being a third party candidate. Even so, we figured the involvement would be minimal, guessing at best,the candidate would be invited to 2 or 3 debates.Even that was more than a Libertarian candidate  would normally get. There was no money that could be counted upon,nevertheless Doug and I agreed it would be worth obtaining the 300 signatures needed to appear on Denver's municipal ballot. Furthermore it was agreed that I would be the Mayoral candidate and Doug would run for Election Commissioner.(It should be noted that the beer soaking was all mine as Doug,a bartender at the time was a teetotaler.)

The incumbent Mayor,Federico Pena was swept into office four years earlier by appealing to Denverites to "Imagine a Great City" He was also helped by a freak May snowstorm on Election Day reminding Denver voters of a Christmas Eve blizzard that then Mayor William McNichols underestimated leaving Denver paralyzed for days..The realities of governing failed to live up to the expectations of many,thus when it was time for Mayor Pena to face re election,he was faced with several formidable challengers,many from his own Democratic Party. They included Denver Auditor Mike Licht,State Senator Dennis Gallagher,and former State Representative Miller Hudson. Also running was businessman Don Bain,the only Republican in the race.

The announcement of my entry into the Mayor's race was covered by both the Rocky Mountain News and Denver Post. Westword,Denver's alternative weekly heralded my entry as the "first of a handful of fringe candidates expected to enter the race".Rather than the usual third party tactic of blasting the writer for writing off the campaign, I wrote back thanking the writer for that entry citing various mainstream ideas that began with "fringe " candidates. That writer became a friend,and later gave the campaign good coverage. As the campaign rolled on, the media seemed to latch on to the stark contrast my candidacy was to the other candidates. At a Chamber of Commerce forum,I argued for a proposed new Convention Center and Airport being financed by the businessmen in the room as opposed to taxpayers.At a candidate forum sponsored by the Police Union,I stated how Denver's biggest gang problem was the gang in blue suits wearing badges,prompting a plainclothes man assigned to protect Mayor Pena to give me his card afterwards stating "If you get elected,you will  need protection." To my surprise,the invitations to the debates continued.I had reporters assigned to cover my campaign,and enough money was flowing into campaign coffers to provide for campaign literature. All this was pretty heady stuff for a guy who,just a couple years previous had left the communal existence at G.O. carrying all my clothes and possessions within one large suitcase.

 I first met Russell Means at a Libertarian Party meeting in Fort Collins Colorado. Of course I knew of his leadership role in the American Indian Movement led rebellion at Wounded Knee. Now Russell was in the process of seeking the Libertarian Party's Presidential nomination. After our meeting,Russell decided he would come to Denver on behalf of my candidacy. A month or so later,I found myself surrounded at a press conference by Means,Dennis Banks and other members of the American Indian Movement supporting my bid. It was one of the highlights of that campaign.

Another highlight was my appearance in the KUSA televised Mayoral Debate held days before the election. My response to the closing question "What makes you best suited for Mayor?" (Answer: "I'm not a lawyer or a member of the Denver Country Club") drew a reaction from an audience that was not supposed to react to any candidate.

 On Election Night one Denver television station came to my house to broadcast my concession speech.
Because no candidate garnered the  50 percent plus one needed to win,there was a runoff between the top two finishers,Federico Pena and Don Bain. One day after the election Mayor Pena called asking for my support. A week or so afterwards I found myself being wined and dined by Don Bain's campaign team,assisted by a Downtown business developer at a fancy Denver restaurant. Neither got my endorsement,but the very fact that they sought my endorsement told me this campaign was heard.

Shortly after the Mayoral race,I was elected Chairman of the Colorado Libertarian Party and on the local level continued to have a visible presence.
On the national level,the Libertarian Party was engaged in a hard fought battle for its Presidential nomination with its two leading contenders being former Republican Congressman from Texas Ron Paul and Russell Means.
Because of ballot access and fundraising obstacles third parties face,the national convention was held a year ahead of the Presidential election. I was a delegate to the Libertarian National Convention held in Seattle. At the convention,I got to speak on behalf of Russell Means,smoke marijuana with former Goldwater speechwriter Karl Hess and talk music with Dr.Demento. Best political gathering I've ever attended.
The only thing that could have gone better from my perspective would have been if Russell Means had received the nomination.Instead ,Ron Paul received the nomination on the first ballot. There were a couple political differences and a wide cultural difference between the two. Russell stated and I agreed that Ron Paul would be better off running as a Republican. I later resigned as Chairman,but I wasn't done with politics for that cycle.

I couldn't help but to be interested upon hearing news that Eugene McCarthy was going to run for President again this time under the label of the Consumer Party. I made an inquiry about the campaign and shared my experiences as a third party candidate and left it at that. The phone call I received a couple days later floored me. Eugene McCarthy wanted me to appear on the ballot with him as his Vice Presidential candidate!

McCarthy wished to have someone of a libertarian persuasion on the ballot with him as he shared many of its views. I was too young to hold the office at the time,and McCarthy,ultimately wishing to abolish the Vice Presidency, had different running mates appear in different states,but the prospect of running with the person who in essence was my first political hero made it impossible for me to say no. The highlight of that campaign was a day spent with McCarthy in Denver and Boulder appearing on radio and being interviewed by newspapers. That evening,over a bottle of wine,I got a personal history lesson on the 1968 campaign,and I was told stories of McCarthy bailing out volunteers who had gotten busted for marijuana.

It was Eugene McCarthy who,with my marriage soon to be ending, recommended Minneapolis as a place for me to explore,and when the decision was made to move to Minnesota,it was Eugene McCarthy who personally covered many of my moving expenses.

                                         Run for the Senate 2000

By the time the year 2000 rolled around,this Dreadlocked Rasta was involved with the Arts:Theater,Poetry,Spoken Word.Given that its best to write "what you know",much of the work had a social and political bent to it.This is also in the realm of Rasta practice,but the arts was providing a platform to thoughts and ideas that would quickly be marginalized in the political realm,but would be listened to in the context of art.
While I might call it just my life,those that prefer categorization would probably describe it as being"countercultural" or "bohemian" and at this time,I was much more likely to be seen at a reggae concert,smoking marijuana and "reasoning", or hanging out at a neighborhood watering hole than at a political meeting of any kind.

I became aware of the Grassroots Party shortly after my arrival in Minnesota in 1988.The Grassroots Party (now called the Grassroots-Legalize Cannabis Party) is a Minnesota based third party,dedicated to the legalization of marijuana. Over time,through various music festivals and marijuana rallies,I ended up meeting two of its leaders,Tim Davis and Chris Wright. Tim Davis' contribution helped make the Cedar Cultural Center event possible which premiered my play Malcolm X Meet Peter Tosh 
It was at a music show on the West Bank where I first shared my experiences as a candidate with Chris Wright,and it was at that show where Chris first asked me to run for the Senate seat.
When one cares about issues,it is always flattering when someone asks you to run for office,and it was flattering to have Chris ask me to run. I knew however,having run before of the commitment necessary to run a minor party effort.Though one has little chance of winning,and because of things such as few volunteers,little money,a third party candidate is asked to do more than merely being a candidate and thus in its own way, running for office becomes every bit as consuming as the major candidate that has all the funding.  I had other things going on in my life and initially I brushed him off. He asked me on another occasion and again I brushed him off.

An incident at a neighborhood coffee shop altered my thinking to where Chris didn't have to be brushed off a third time.
The Hard Times Cafe on the West Bank was raided and closed by the city on suspicion of  marijuana dealings inside the premise.
While living on the West Bank,the Hard Times was like hanging out in my living room,especially after the New Riverside Cafe had closed. Its coffee could keep one going for hours,and its eclectic mix was representative of the West Bank and was like some offbeat family of sorts. It especially came alive after bar close.
This closing over a harmless plant created within me the same type of "I'm not going to accept this" feeling as I did when my reading at the Walker Art Center was cancelled.
While the Hard Times raid was a local affair,the offer was Chris was on the table,and I thought by running I would have a statewide platform to highlight marijuana injustices such as this. I then called Chris  to accept the offer to run. Shortly afterwards I was officially endorsed at a Grassroots Party meeting,and when the Hard Times reopened it became my unofficial campaign headquarters. Laura Galore whom I originally met through my time at the Hard Times became my campaign manager.I was carried around town in carts designed by members of the Hard Times Bike Club.
The 2,000 signatures required to make the ballot were attained primarily by attending concerts, music festivals around the state and at various West Bank establishments.
Once I had to squeeze through a crawl space at the Target Center while Phil Lesh and Friends were performing to recover a clipboard full of signatures that I had accidently dropped.

As a candidate,I ran on a platform of eliminating corporate welfare,supporting a non interventionist foreign policy,and of course freeing the weed. I also stated  I would be a Senator following in the maverick and poetic spirit of Eugene McCarthy. I remember receiving a campaign contribution from an older man who stated how he didn't necessarily care about whether I was for or against marijuana,but anyone willing to emulate McCarthy on any level was worth his support.

The highlight on the campaign trail was a debate held on the campus of the University of Minnesota.The debate would include Republican incumbent Senator Rod Grams,Democratic challenger Mark Dayton,widely believed to be the frontrunner.In addition to myself,the debate included Libertarian candidate Erik Pakieser,Independence Party candidate James Gibson,Socialist Workers Party candidate Rebecca Ellis,and Constitution Party candidate David Swan. The debate moderator was Minnesota Governor and former wrestler Jesse Ventura whose third party election not only shocked Minnesota and the world,but also gave a greater focus to the efforts of third party candidates in the state. The flashing of cameras as the candidates entered the stage was more like something I would have imagined for some celebrity
I don't know what shocked Mark Dayton more,the fact that I understood more than marijuana or that I was willing to "break the rules" to get a point across.In an earlier question Dayton promised funding that as a Senator he was constitutionally unable to provide.I called him on it despite of rules forbidding candidates referring to previous questions. Dayton's shocked reaction was captured in a photograph that landed on the cover of the Uof M's Minnesota Daily paper.The move drew Ventura's attention and immediately gained attention for what I had to say for the remainder of the debate.
There was also the "no touching" rule instituted by Gov.Ventura when I patted Mark Dayton's back,encouraging him to be real.
There were limited appearances after that debate.Word got out in part through a weekly candidates questionnaire in the (Minneapolis) Star Tribune where I got to quote Peter Tosh in a question concerning violence in America.

Word also got out through a series of offbeat,irreverent 30 second radio spots created by John Perkins from the Twin Cities band Vinnie and the Stardusters.  John created spots asking whether "one would be more comfortable knowing the dime bag in your sock wasn't illegal" or "isn't it about time to throw the fat sweaty white guys out of office?" All the spots featured the music of Vinnie and the Stardusters.There was a Twin Cities station that read a disclaimer prior to running the spots.On another occasion the on air dj couldn't help but to comment on the radio ads. After the election,when analyzing where votes came from,I have no doubt the radio ads helped to bring in votes.

The campaign for the US Senate garnered over 21,000 votes,more than any other third party candidate in the race. In 2014,I found myself on the ballot once again as a candidate for Lieutenant Governor on a ticket headed by Chris Wright.
In the end,I look at the adventures in politics as in a way accomplishing what I had set out to do as a child.There were no guarantees I was going to get elected even if I had played the game like my mother had hoped.
Politics is a strange animal,and I no longer believe electoral politics can even be a major catalyst for change. I can say that and still never rule out what may or may not happen in the future. At the time of this writing however,I can safely say I'd rather devote my energies elsewhere..