The Facebook message came in late Monday morning. “Just wondering if you are going to your caucus tonight. I’m worried that there will only be a few people there. Nobody seems interested this year in the Dem caucus.” My friend, who lives 200 miles distant, began this exchange by noting a recent column I had written. I respond, “Yes, you bet I’m going. Sometimes we send important messages simply by showing up, which is why I named my column such.”
I hadn’t promoted our 2024 caucus, other than mentioning it to my brother and his wife when we saw them Sunday evening. They weren’t attending, due to a hectic work week. (They’ll soon learn, however, they’re delegates to the county convention.) This year’s caucus prompted a flashback to fifty years ago, attending my first caucus in Decorah, January 1974. I was 19, and walked down the hill to Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, three blocks from the Luther College campus. There were seven of us in attendance, maybe one other student. I sat by Oivind Hovde, head librarian at Luther from 1949 to 1977.
Pleasant with Norwegian-reserve, Oivind was nearing the end of his distinguished career. I knew who he was, although I don’t suppose we’d ever exchanged words. When it came time to select delegates to the county convention, the last available slot came down to Oivind or me… and he kindly deferred to me, a raw college sophomore. He would have been the better choice on many levels. Oivind had substance and stature; he was involved and respected in the community. I was a transient college student, trying out politics for, what?... a January term?... maybe a semester? Oivind looked at me and said something like, “If you’re interested, I think you should do it.”
I’ve revisited this episode occasionally over the years. My political involvement now spans five decades, admittedly lowkey during our Pennsylvania and Wisconsin years, 1981-94, and merely a trusty doorknocker while living in Minnesota. Had Oivind contested our modest delegate race, he most certainly would have been selected. And I, with tentative, ill-defined political interests, might have simply walked away, literally and figuratively, back to the dorm and onto some other vague youthful calling.
As it turned out, at the Winneshiek County convention, I became a delegate to district and state conventions. At the district convention, I became a delegate to the first-ever Democratic Party national mid-term convention (held in ’74, ’78, and ‘82). That same year, 1974, I became regional organizer in an unsuccessful congressional primary, then managed a successful state senate campaign. Through these and other comparable opportunities, political involvement became both a passion and a pursuit.
Yes indeed, I attended our caucus this year, as did thirty others in my rural county, including six from Otranto Township, hooray for us! I was eager to visit with friends I hadn’t seen recently, happy about not knowing everyone there. New faces replace the dearly departed, like Jeanette and Bruce, loyal activists who have gone to their reward. I pay homage to them, offering a brief (for me!) tribute. I hug Cynthia and extend sympathy regarding her mother’s recent passing. I hear from another friend that her husband, a decade older than me, isn’t doing very well. All poignant reminders that in many rural communities, parties lean heavily on those my age and older. Sigh.
I agree to be a precinct committee person, but due to travel plans will miss our county convention. Paula and I depart shortly before the platform discussion begins, confident that planks important to us will advance. We head toward the Twin Cities, where we’re catching a flight to warmer weather.
Driving north, I reflect on previous caucuses, not so much all the presidential hoo-ha, fine and fun as it’s been, but rather my first caucus experience. On a cold evening, I recall many warm, meaningful friendships rooted in a shared political commitment. Finally, thoughts circle back to Oivind and his modest but timely encouragement, remembered fondly after fifty years… and with great gratitude.
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I’m pleased to be part of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative. My colleagues:
Nicole Baart: This Stays Here, Sioux Center
Ray Young Bear: From Red Earth Drive, Meskwaki Settlement
Laura Belin: Iowa Politics with Laura Belin, Windsor Heights
Tory Brecht: Brecht’s Beat, Quad Cities
Dartanyan Brown, My Integrated Life, Des Moines
Doug Burns: The Iowa Mercury, Carroll
Jane Burns: The Crossover, Des Moines
Dave Busiek: Dave Busiek on Media, Des Moines
Iowa Writers’ Collaborative, Roundup
Steph Copley: It Was Never a Dress, Johnston
Art Cullen: Art Cullen’s Notebook, Storm Lake
Suzanna de Baca: Dispatches from the Heartland, Huxley
Debra Engle: A Whole New World, Madison County
Arnold Garson: Second Thoughts, Okoboji and Sioux Falls
Julie Gammack: Julie Gammack’s Iowa Potluck, Des Moines and Okoboji
Joe Geha: Fern and Joe, Ames
Jody Gifford: Benign Inspiration, West Des Moines
Rob Gray: Rob Gray’s Area, Ankeny
Nik Heftman: The Seven Times, Los Angeles and Iowa
Beth Hoffman: In the Dirt, Lovilia
Chris Jones, Chris’s Substack, Des Moines
Pat Kinney: View from Cedar Valley, Waterloo
Fern Kupfer: Fern and Joe, Ames
Robert Leonard: Deep Midwest: Politics and Culture, Bussey
Letters from Iowans, Iowa
Darcy Maulsby: Keepin’ It Rural, Calhoun County
Tar Macias: Hola Iowa, Iowa
Alison McGaughey, The Inquisitive Quad Citizen, Quad Cities
Kurt Meyer: Showing Up, St. Ansgar
Vicki Minor, Relatively Minor, Winterset
Wini Moranville: Wini’s Food Stories, Des Moines
Jeff Morrison: Between Two Rivers, Cedar Rapids
Kyle Munson: Kyle Munson’s Main Street, Des Moines
Jane Nguyen: The Asian Iowan, West Des Moines
John Naughton: My Life, in Color, Des Moines
Chuck Offenburger: Iowa Boy Chuck Offenburger, Jefferson and Des Moines
Barry Piatt: Piatt on Politics Behind the Curtain, Washington, D.C.
Dave Price: Dave Price’s Perspective, Des Moines
Macey Shofroth: The Midwest Creative, Norwalk
Larry Stone: Listening to the Land, Elkader
Mary Swander: Mary Swander’s Buggy Land, Kalona
Mary Swander: Mary Swander’s Emerging Voices, Kalona
Cheryl Tevis: Unfinished Business, Boone County
Ed Tibbetts: Along the Mississippi, Davenport
Kali White VanBaale, 988: Mental Healthcare in Iowa, Bondurant
Teresa Zilk: Talking Good, Des Moines