Nearly two years ago I was charged with the safekeeping of the North Olmsted Republican Organization's two scrapbooks. It's a fairly consistent and rich documentation of events from 1966, major and minor; evidence ranging from newspaper clippings to campaign literature, press prints to programs and fliers.
I'll be honest with you: photographs, especially older ones, fascinate me. If I'm a guest at someone's home, I can guarantee that by the time the evening has passed, I will have thoroughly examined family prints in the living room at least once or twice. The passage of time is always at strange odds with someone's physical identity in a given photograph: Did they really look like that way back when? Were their clothes and hairstyle just for the occasion? Had they been caught at an odd angle?
And, for the people you don't know, the timeless: Just who in the hell was that guy? When I first received the scrapbooks I was relatively unfamiliar with the club's members - let alone North Olmsted's movers and shakers. And trust me, they've been moving and shaking for decades. But I'm the first in my family to manifestly enter politics, so until my return from college, the city's political scene remained an entirely different world. Some photographs found their way into the group's monthly newsletter; I haven't looked at it much since it came into my possession. But after three years in the party - and having branched out into the city community - I recognized quite a few more faces when I paged through it last night. One particularly startling realization was that a woman I noted during my first scrapbook investigation, no more than thirty in a couple of photographs from 1973, serves with me on the Civil Service Commission. Small world.
And, of course, the national political scene two years ago was not exactly what it is today. I didn't pass by two very interesting snapshots this time around. Recognize anyone?
That's right: standing in the middle was Ohio 10th District Congressman, presidential candidate and tinfoil hatter, Dennis Kucinich. They didn't call him the "Boy Mayor" a few years later for nothing. Here he stood with a gaggle of local Democrats and the former Mrs. Kucinich:
I don't know what's more dumbfounding: that Dennis was present for a Republican event nowhere near his district - the now-defunct, biennial Inaugural Ball - or that the ball drew nearly 600 in attendance. As newly elected president of the North Olmsted Republicans, I have faith in the city and the club to generate dedication and support anew, as younger generations gradually settle in. But one year from next month, I don't know if we'll see six hundred - or Dennis Kucinich - at one of our events.
Last but not least:
Priceless. When was the last time any newspaper had enough brass to call it "gladhanding"? Journalists, take note.