(This might be the only political post you’ll see me write.)
A stranger knocked on my porch door and asked if he could put up a yard sign for a city election.
I told him I didn’t live in the city and was not registered with a political party. Other than that, I said, “Knock yourself out.”
Since I have a porch—and porches are good for questions—I asked if he wanted to have a seat and tell me his reason for running for office.
He said, “My son Dimitri was interested in speaking on an issue at City Hall, and I thought that showed good initiative, so I brought him. He said his piece and was roundly booed by many in attendance.”
“That got me thinking, so I decided to run for City Council by contacting every person in this district.”
“How many is that?” I inquired.
He said, “I made 102,000 contacts to 36,000 voters.”
“Yikes. What was the response?”
“Mixed. It was hard work, but I did meet some interesting people.”
“Do you have a platform?”
He shrugged. “Maybe civility? I wanna be the voice of the people in my district, so if they feel strongly about something, I will vote for what they consider right more than voting my own opinion. But I want to do it in a respectful and civil way.”
Anyway, what happened is kind of what I anticipated: He got drubbed.
At the end of the day, politics is about name recognition, and he simply was not a known name.
So I met with him after the election and asked if he was going to run again.
“Hard to say,” he said.
I said, “History would say that you would not run again. Most people who lose an election find it so soul-crushing that it just takes all the sand out of them.”
He nodded. “Soul-crushing is a good term.”
I said, “Perhaps you could consider not running for a future office, but instead informing voters in the area about issues in a civil manner.”
“Maybe a refreshing, non-partisan, non-biased, even-handed, civil voice would be appreciated. Something you could do for your neighborhood and to teach your son.”
I ended by saying, “If you did that for four to six years, you could probably change some attitudes in our city, and maybe you’d gain enough recognition that, if you wanted to run again, you’d have a better chance.”
I wanted to encourage him because what he did was courageous.
His name is Brady L. Kerkman. And it’s fathers like him that give me hope for my country and my community.
Good job, Brady. You are a hero.
