Last
night I had the pleasure of spending 2 hours and 40 minutes driving
with my Dad through the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains of
California, to a small, rural county called Calaveras. You may
recognize the name from the famous Mark Twain story,The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County.
As I drove there, it seemed like nothing much had changed since Twain
wrote the story in 1867. Perhaps a few more people live in the area
now, but it’s still fairly sparsely populated. The topography ranges
from beautiful rolling hills studded with old oaks, to steep, brushy,
forested canyons. This time of year, it’s all dry browns and yellows,
but it’s still an exceptionally beautiful drive, and reminded me of one
of the many reasons why I love California, despite our insane
government.
I’ve
been traveling out of state a lot, so I was looking forward to an event
closer to home, and spending some time with my long-suffering
California compadres. As I followed the map on the iPhone, even though
every turn matched what we were seeing on the road, I doubted my eyes.
It seemed we were heading into the middle of nowhere, far off the main
highway. As the road shrank from two lanes to one, and wound along the
spine of a tall ridge only the signs that pointed to “Moaning Caverns
Park,” assured me that we were headed to the right place. It was the
location of the annual barbecue of the Calaveras County Taxpayers
Association. Literally at the end of the road we came to a small
building, next to which some pop-up shade structures were assembled with
picnic tables underneath. The tables were in the process of being
covered with American flag themed paper covers, and on the front of one
of the pop-ups was a 5 ft. banner with the logo of the organization,
assuring me that we were in the right place.
When
we arrived, there were 10 or so folks there setting up, so I headed
over to find my host and the President of the Association, Al Segalla.
As is my custom at events like this, we volunteered to help set up, and
were put to work stocking the prize table for the upcoming raffle.
People had donated a variety of items in an effort to help the group
raise funds for its activities. After setting up the table, we began to
make the rounds, introducing ourselves to the people in attendance.
This is my favorite part of every event.
Wandering
through an event like that is a chance to meet great Americans; people
who aren’t on TV, who you don’t read about in the newspapers and who may
never be celebrated as heroes. But they’re among my heroes.
They’re the people who come out on a hot Wednesday night in a small
town in American flyover country and assemble voluntarily to learn a
thing or two about what ails the nation. They get together to hear
proposed solutions, share camaraderie, have a laugh, and encourage each
other to get involved and stay involved in civic life. They are the
fabric of America. They built this country, and they will save it from
the ruling elite who are tearing it apart.
Ultimately
about 40-50 people showed up at the barbecue. As is often the
tradition at meetings like this, we sang the national anthem, in this
case accompanied by local patriots on the keyboard and cello. We
recited the Pledge of Allegiance together (I still get chills every
time). And we were led in prayer by a local tea party activist, a young
father of three, who with his wife and beautiful 8 year old daughter
Morgan, was the volunteer who was manning the drink booth for the
event. It was catered by a local restaurant, which operates in the
local historic hotel (probably where Mark Twain stayed). It doesn’t get
any more grassroots than this.
The
speakers before me were a local property rights activist who talked
passionately about Agenda 21, followed by the local, elected County
Auditor / Controller, Rebecca. Rebecca was clearly passionate about
protecting every taxpayer dollar, and openly admitted that local
officials find her “somewhat difficult” because she keeps an eye on how
they spend the funds. I loved her, and couldn’t help but thinking that
she’d be a far better Treasury Secretary than “Tax Cheat” Tim Geithner.
I asked later to make sure she had indeed paid her own taxes, letting
her know that if the elections went well I thought there might soon be a
high level opening at Treasury for someone with her ethics.
When
it was my turn to speak I stood under the shade canopies and stepped
out from behind the podium, trading a microphone for a loud voice. The
sun was just fading over the beautiful hills creating the silhouettes of
age old oaks on the ridge in the distance. I looked out across those
picnic tables festooned with American flags, and saw the faces of my
fellow Americans. I was inspired by them. I am always inspired by
them. They are real American heroes. They are the hard working men and
women and children of our communities. After work and school, and
soccer and baseball practice, and the myriad of other obligations they
have, they come out to engage in matters of civic importance. And I
know from experience, they are everywhere.
I
have been with these people in upstate New York. I’ve met them in
Flagstaff, Arizona. I’ve had breakfast with them in a diner in
Kalispell, Montana. I’ve met them at a Starbucks in Seattle,
Washington, and at a rally on the streets of San Francisco. I’ve meet
them in Manhattan and Los Angeles, Toledo and Dallas, Texas. The same
kinds of people, and the same kinds of communities are everywhere.
These are the type of people, and the type of communities that created
this country. They are the people and communities that have always
saved America when America needed saving. And they are stepping up
today.
The
engaged American citizen is alive and well. They are out there,
working hard for the salvation of the nation. They give me faith that
indeed the nation will be saved. But if I am ever in doubt, if I am
every overwhelmed by the cynicism and evil that I see in Washington DC
and in our state capitols, I need only go back to Calaveras County,
California, and the thousands of other places in this great nation that
are home to everyday American heroes. They always refill my personal
tank with optimism and inspiration.
I
arrived home late, and my family was long asleep. I kissed them
goodnight and crawled into bed, still glowing with the energy of the
great Americans I had met earlier that evening.
Today
I woke with a smile. It is a new day, and thanks to the great patriots
of Calaveras County I am again filled with optimism and faith for the
future of the nation.
Mark Meckler
