Steam shovel in gravel pit
When I was young, one of the intiatives that my father put his heart and soul into was stopping the expansion of a gravel pit that was located close to our house. Dad’s college-aged depiction of such industry is far more romanticized than his later viewpoint might have led people to believe.
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I agree this painting foreshadowed the and political battle Dad had with the dishonest owners of the property behind his Milford home. They claimed they needed to dig the gigantic gravel pit in preparation for a golf course, but Dad knew better and stopped the operation. This battle inspired him to run for the township board. When he lost the election, our mother showed her good humor by decorating the exterior of one of our household wastebaskets with his leftover campaign flyers.
I’d forgotten about the trash can Nancy. At the age of 12, Mom and Dad had me going door to door campaigning for: Dad, Mom who was running for precinct captain, and George McGovern. Our next door neighbor Marylene said that in one local election, the Democrats pulled in under 10 votes. After she and Mom added up all the Democratic voters they could think of, they’d only counted 9. It’s not surprising Dad lost. His opponent’s daughter rode my bus. She loudly announced her father’s victory as she climbed aboard the day after the election. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.