[Originally posted on FaceBook, Dec. 9, 2018]
In the beginning, and for many years, visitors to my Dad’s Christmas tree farm could drive right up to the tree they wanted to cut. That’s the standard practice at other you-cut operations. But our property is hilly, the December weather can be ugly, and inevitably people would get their vehicles stuck in the back. There were many incidents that convinced my Dad to change his policy: now visitors must park at the barn, walk into the trees, then carry their tree back to the car. My Dad hasn’t had to pull out a vehicle for some time, and he is happier for it.
Here is the story of one memorable incident. Let’s see if you can identify the person who got himself stuck – a person who has gone on to enjoy high political office.
One year a teenager drove out to the farm on a particularly foul day to cut a tree. My Dad warned him that he should visit some other time, when the weather was better. But the kid assured him that he wouldn’t have any problems: his father’s truck had 4-wheel drive, and he had grown up in Northern Michigan and therefore knew all about driving in snow. Still, my Dad was wary. He’d seen this movie before.
Sure enough, a little while later the same kid came running back to the barn to ask for my Dad’s help: he had gotten stuck out back. So my Dad took his truck with the winch and, with a lot of effort, eventually got the other truck free. The visitor was extremely polite and apologetic, but had the unusual habit of pronouncing blessings upon my Dad for his assistance. Since my Dad is an atheist, the blessings came as yet another aggravation on top of all the physical trouble of pulling out the truck. Such things can make a 60+ year old man grumpy.
Although the visitor did not return the next year, or the year after that, my Dad remembered the incident as one of several he was very glad to be done with – once he instituted his new parking policy.
But then a funny thing happened. That same visitor, now a young man, began appearing on the news, as he made a primary challenge to our incumbent state representative. My Dad continued to watch in surprise as the young man won election after election, to represent our family in Lansing. Our astonishment was complete when that same man, now a veteran political figure, reached the highest office in the state legislature and began headlining events with President Trump.
At least, that is how my Dad remembers it.
Why am I telling you this anecdote? Not in order to laugh at the foibles of a teenager, certainly. We’ve all been there, done that. And it’s not to ding the Northern Michigan “cred” that is essential to this politician’s public persona. Because we all get stuck, at some point. I myself have slid off into a snow bank – just a few years ago, in fact, and less than a mile from Mr. Chatfield’s Northern Michigan Bible Church on M-68. As I waited for a wrecker to come tow me out, at least a dozen cars generously stopped at night during a snowstorm to make sure I was alright (and I was!).
Dear reader, the incident reminded me of two things that I had forgotten about, while living away from home: (1) snow tires are a good investment, and (2) people up here take care of one another in time of trouble. A Northern Michigan winter has a way of reminding you of our common human vulnerability. We know that no matter how well you prepare, fortune and the weather will not always cooperate. While we prize self-reliance, at some point we will all find ourselves stuck – literally and metaphorically. On those occasions we help our neighbors when we can, and we ask for help when we truly need it. That includes the help of government services, because these services are simply the principle of “neighborliness” writ large. At least, that is the principle we should expect government to aspire to.
Micropolitan 