When you run for elected office, the most important thing to do is meet people. You knock on doors, you go to community events and do basically anything you can to meet as many people as possible in the hope they decide they like you and your position on the issues and ultimately vote for you.
Once you get elected, you’re not only meeting new people, but you’re really getting to know the people you represent. You do constituent services through the office, you respond to phone calls and emails about broad policy issues and personal problems, and you see people as you make your way through the community.
It doesn’t take long to form a pretty vast network of contacts and in some cases forge some really amazing friendships. Although some people fall into the category of cranky malcontents who despise politicians under any circumstances, I have been fortunate enough to get to know some truly wonderful people I wouldn’t have known any other way.
But one thing I wasn’t prepared for while I was meeting all these people is how to take it when they pass away and suddenly aren’t there anymore. I recently lost two of my favorite constituents, people who never failed to make me smile or laugh, always full of encouragement, support and positive energy that is sometimes hard to come by in politics.
Dorothy, who lived in Muse, was one of the very first constituents my office ever helped when we opened our doors in December 2006. We helped her with an issue and to show her appreciation, she insisted on inviting my staff and I over for lunch. We were greeted to a full-course meal that included homemade lasagna and candy to take back to the office. It was really something else- this woman barely knew us, yet didn’t hesitate to invite us into her home.
Not to be outdone, Dorothy insisted on inviting us back every year, refusing to take “no” for an answer. As she got older and somewhat limited in her abilities, the menu switched to having food delivered to the house, and she always made sure to call in advance with a menu to see what everyone wanted. Dorothy would call me every year around election time and ask if I was up for reelection that year so she could take my yard sign from the basement and put it up in her yard. I think she even put that sign up a few years when I wasn’t even on the ballot.
Dorothy’s health deteriorated and she was eventually moved to Washington Health Center. When we heard the news, my staff and I sent her a card with some personal notes; unfortunately Dorothy had passed away before she received it. She will certainly be missed, and her kindness will be long remembered.
The other constituent who passed recently was Regis, who lived in Avella. Regis had been a math teacher at Burgettstown High School and was known by the entire community. When I was first starting out, Regis took me around and introduced me to everyone as though we were long-lost best friends, and he never faltered in his support as the years progressed.
What always amazed me about Regis was his memory. He read everything, and seemed to remember every detail imaginable. One day, I was at the Cross Creek Senior Center talking about the upcoming state budget, which always comes to a head around June 30. Regis looked at me and said, “It must not be any fun to be in the State Capitol on your birthday.”
I was amazed, because my birthday (which is June 24) had not been brought up as any part of the conversation. Regis then went on to explain how he had heard me discuss my birthday years earlier, remembered the date, did the math, and knew not only my exact birthday but also what year I was born. Considering that my own mother has a propensity for getting my name mixed up with not only my siblings but the family dog, I was more than a little impressed.
Regis broke his hip a few years ago, and struggled with his health afterwards. He always had a story for me about physical therapy or how he came up with innovate ways to get around (he lived alone). He always stayed informed on the issues, and never failed to keep me on my toes and hold me accountable for my actions. Regis passed away last month. He will be sorely missed.
If you really embrace the people you represent as an elected official, it’s natural to think of some of those people as family. And when you lose a member of the family, no matter how extended, it’s never easy. Even though Dorothy and Regis and countless others may be gone, working hard to honor their friendship and the trust they placed in me is a great motivator to get up every morning and do the best job I possibly can.
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