Why Am I A Republican? My Daddy Said So.

That opening statement requires a little bit of an explanation, and I can think of no other way of explaining it, except to tell you this story. But, first let me say that I am a conservative Republican and for me it's more then just a title, a principle or a belief, it's a way of life. Now, let me explain.

I was 12 years old and growing up pretty fast. My dad worked hard, 7 days a week, as a foreman in a textile mill machine shop. He got up at 5 AM and was at work by 6 AM. He got home just a little before 6 PM, except Saturday he got off at 3 PM and Sunday he got off at 10 AM, because Sunday was God's day and we had to go to church.

One evening, we heard his car come up the lane and my mom began to set the table. My dad came in the back door, took off his shoes in the mud room and came into the kitchen, washed his hands and we all sat down to eat. It was always like this, no exceptions. The kids ate quietly, and spoke only when asked a question. I waited until there was a lull in the conversation between my parents and I asked to speak. I told my dad that when I was riding my bike that afternoon, I noticed that Mr. Clark down the road had his old Farmall chore tractor for sale. My dad said, "The red one?" and I answered yes.

When dinner was over, we were excused and Dad and Mom sat at the table and had a cup of tea and smoked a Chesterfield. Always, every night, no exceptions as we went into the family room and watched TV. I was the oldest and would wait to for the sound of my moms chair sliding back, then I would jump up and go help her clear the table. My sister was still to young and couldn't reach the counter.

As I entered the kitchen, my dad said, "Gord, let your brother Jim help mom with the table, you are going over to old man Clark's with me." I was giddy with joy, I was going to get to go with my dad and watch him do men things.

We got into our 1958 Oldsmobile Rocket 88 and headed over to Mr. Clark's. (if I called him old man Clark, well). We knocked at the back door and Mrs. Clark greeted us. As was proper, we began to take off our shoes, but she made us leave them on, after all we were company. My dad sat at the table with Mr. Clark and I sat on a chair in near the sewing machine, I was there to listen, not to speak. Mrs. Clark served the men coffee and pie, then she brought me a glass of Ginger Ale and two of her famous peanut butter cookies.

I listened to the men talk about the weather, the crops, the mill, General Eisenhower (he wasn't President Eisenhower, he was General Eisenhower) and the general conversation lasted about one cup of coffee and one piece of pie long.

My dad got up, said, "I'll be back Saturday with the boy to get that tractor you have down at the road." Mr. Clark said, "Great, I'll have her ready for you." My dad reached into his pocket, took out some money and laid in on the table. They shook hands, and we left.

Right about now my mind was whirling, I don't even remember going to the car. As we headed back home I looked up at my dad's tired face, it was only lighted by the glow of the instrument panel, no street lights in the country and for the first time I questioned an action my father had made. I said, "Dad, you didn't look at the tractor, and Mr. Clark didn't even count the money, you didn't talk about it at all. In fact, the money was still on the table when we left. How come?"

My fathers answer was my first lesson in learning the adult way of doing business between two men. "Mr. Clark knows that I am a God fearing and honest man. My father knew his father and I have known him all my life. He knows that I would pay him a fair price for his tractor, and I know that he would not sell me anything less then a good tractor. In fact, I am sure when we go back on Saturday to pick it up, it'll have a lube and oil change and he will have even cleaned the plugs."

That absolutely floored me, it wasn't they way we were taught to transact business in school. But, I was not about to question my father, no sir. Being the new MAN that I was, I decided to ask just one more question, something that had been bugging me since the 5th grade, but I just never bothered to ask.

What I did not know was whether my dad was a Republican or a Democrat, big words we had picked up in school, and ones that I barely knew the definition of. I knew we were Baptist's, because for as long as I can remember, every Sunday morning at 9:30 I would leave the house with bible in hand and walk with my brother and sister (my other two brothers were too young yet) over to the Oak Street Baptist church and go down in the basement for Sunday school at 10. At about 10:55 we would go upstairs and there would be my dad and mom and the babies, we'd all find our parents and sit with them and have church. So, at least I knew I was a Baptist, but I didn't know what political party my parents belonged to.

So, I looked at my dad in that glow once again and asked, "Dad, are we Republicans or Democrats?" A smile crept over his face, a little weathered wrinkled from welding at work, and he said, "Son, the Taylor's have always been, and always will be Republicans."

That was a really big night for me back in 1959. I got to attend my first man function and I became known as a Republican. As the years have rolled along, I now realize that we lived the way we did, we behaved the way we behaved, because my fore-fathers were principled, conservative, God fearing men. And to this day I still am.

So, how or when did you first know you were a Republican, if you in fact are?