The Campaign is Over- Oh, What at Relief It Is!

"Hello, I'm Kate Cavanaugh, John's wife. John is running for reelection to Congress. We'd appreciate your support on November 7."
"Oh, it's past November 7, the election is over, and John was reelected? That's great. I was so busy handshaking I forgot about the vote-taking."
What a relief! The campaign of 1978 is over, and I'm writing my "Letter from Washington," It's good to be back. I've missed writing, and I appreciate all the inquiries by readers who say they've missed reading my column and wondered when I would be back.
Much has happened since I last wrote. We went through a long and exciting campaign. It's a good feeling to have that behind us. Political campaigns were not something I was exposed to growing up in St. Charles, IL. The most exciting - and also about the only - political experience I had was in 1960. John Kennedy was campaigning in St. Charles. We must have had a Republican pastor at my school, because we weren't let out early to hear him speak. But as soon as school was dismissed, my dad jammed my brothers, sisters, and several friends into his Volkswagon and raced us to the parade site.
It was there, on the comer of Third and Main, in front of Lencioni's Blue Goose Grocery, that I got to shake hands with the next president.
Believe me, it was a great thrill, especially since my only other political experience would be three years later, when I went to my high school's Christmas formal with a son of the mayor of St. Charles.
But in Omaha, it is different. At least in South Omaha, where politics is a way of life and every occasion is a political one. Church dinners are a politico's delight. The hoopla surrounding a plate of roast beef and mashed potatoes never ceases to make me wonder.
During a lively election year, in front of the church hall volunteers are handing out literature on candidates for jobs ranging from landfill overseer to the president. While waiting in line for the bill of fare, diners can read the literature, shake the candidates' hands, and peruse the walls completely decorated with political posters.
On being seated, the choices continue. The now well-informed diner can stick on his favorite candidate's sticker, file his nails with a political emory board, make a grocery list on a political tablet, put on a political rain bonnet in case of a shower of political rhetoric, light a political cigar with political matches, and finally, eat a meal set on a political placemat.
The key to a successful campaign is going out, meeting and talking to the potential voters. In order to do this, one has to go where the people are. The campaign trail leads a candidate down a path of bowling alleys, plant gates, shopping centers, union halls, country clubs, school festivals, church bazaars, meetings with senior citizens, meetings with junior citizens, and just meetings.
On one busy campaign day driving between a bake sale and a school carnival, my sister-in-law Pat and I were reminiscing about what it would be like to have a normal day where we did nothing more than stay home, fold laundry, and watch soap operas. We both agreed it would be nice, but probably not as interesting.
In a political campaign.,the wide range of activities exposes one to different facets and cultures of our community. If we weren't involved in it, we might have a more tranquil lifestyle, but we'd
also have a much narrower view of the world.
There are no glamour jobs in getting someone elected. John Green, a dedicated worker in our campaign, summed it up well: "At age 5, I was involved in my first campaign. I stuffed envelopes, licked them, and put stamps on them. Twenty-four years later I'm still involved in campaigns, and I'm still stuffing, licking, and stamping envelopes."
John and I feel that the success in his re-election to Congress was determined by the thousands of hours of hard work by the dedicated and enthusiastic campaign workers and volunteers. This dedication and support is tremendously heart warming and we are very grateful.
November 16, 1978