Time to Vote!!!
By: Dick Ault
Tags: Sunset, Baby, Conference, Vote, Politics

The Names in the Hat: A Novel of Personal and Political Transformation(Final Installment)

Does Governor Birnbaum survive the assassin’s bullet? The power of one small group. Angelo and Lexi reveal the truth. Drums along the Grand. The verdict.

Part Three

Chapter 28

The Morning After

Angelo slept little the night of the assassination attempt. Early the next morning, careful not to wake Lexi, he eased his way out of the room. He picked up a copy of the Lansing state Journal on his way into the Kellogg Center’s breakfast room. The cafe was eerily quiet as the other guests also read the paper or conversed in hushed tones. The waitstaff was equally subdued. Angelo read as he ate.

Of course, the front page carried news of the assassination attempt, those stories and others on the subject continued on the inside as well as on the editorial page. The governor had sustained a gunshot wound in his right lung, which collapsed. His wife had only a minor wound and had remained in the suite at Sparrow Hospital with her husband through the night. A tube had been inserted in the governor’s chest. He was expected to have a full recovery after a hospital stay of one to two weeks.

The would-be assassin, identified as Paul Sikes, was not an employee of the Kellogg Center. He had apparently walked into the building unnoticed in his chef gear. Previously, he had been a cook at other local restaurants; in each case, he was let go for possible addictive behavior. His first two wives had divorced him for the same reason. There was a restraining order to keep him away from a girlfriend and her two children from a prior relationship.

The gun he had used was a stolen Glock 42 .380. Police had not determined where he had acquired it.

Sikes claimed he was acting on orders from higher up, to save Michigan from a foreign conspiracy. He would or could not name the person or persons who gave him the orders. Police could not determine if this was the fantasy of an obviously disturbed man or if he was actually associated with a domestic terror group. They promised a thorough investigation by both state and local police and, because there were unverified rumors of a possible connection to the Boykin administration, the FBI.

A large crowd of well-wishers had gathered outside the hospital through the night. Some placed flowers near the entrance. Some carried signs such as “NITH NOW!” and “Change the Game” — slogans that became chants.

Almost every story in the Journal’s front section made mention of the successful news conference leading up to the Kellogg Center celebration and, ultimately, the assassination attempt. One story, probably originally scheduled to be the lead article of the day, focused totally on the press conference — but it was relegated to an inside page. It was positive in its reporting on the work of NITH and the governor’s strong support.

The lead editorial, while emphasizing the sorrow and anger, along with the prayers and well wishes of the editors and citizenry, urged lawmakers and the people at large to get behind the NITH effort, an effort, it said, to which Governor Birnbaum had not only dedicated his political career and reputation but had “almost sacrificed his very life.”

Angelo folded the paper hastily and chose to forgo his usual second cup of coffee. He called Lana’s room from the lobby. Realizing too late that it was barely 7:00 a.m., he apologized for waking her.

“So, you didn’t sleep much either,” she said. “I spent most of the night in the hospital with him.”

Angelo heard the strain in her voice.

“He was doing much better when I left,” she said. “Quite a scare.”

Angelo said, abruptly, “We have to act now, Lana. For his sake, we can’t wait for his recovery. We have to keep things moving, now more than ever.”

“That’s a good thought, Angelo. What do you have in mind?”

“We can’t wait another month to get NITH together again. We need to move faster. We need to show action and we need to do it while the iron’s hot.”

“The iron’s hot?”

“Well, damn it. Mine is — and I think the whole NITH team probably feels that way. Maybe the public too, with all this happening.”

“It sounds so callous, like we might be seen as exploiting the governor’s injury. But, on the other hand, you may be right. The politics could be on our side for a short time.”

“Exactly what I was thinking. But you know way more than I do about that.”

“So, what do you propose?”

“I want to hold a session this coming weekend — up in my part of the state, in the Leelanau Peninsula. It would do us all some good to get away, almost like being on our own island. It’s April,it’s springtime, , most of the snow is gone, and it’s in between seasons. It’s quiet. I’m sure we could find a place on short notice. It would be a great setting for reaching agreement on an amendment or two. We could take something concrete to the governor.”

“I like it. Let me think about it. I’ll get to work on arranging a space and getting the word out.”

“We can do this.”

“Angelo, I’m going to ask you right now. Will you take the lead at the meeting? You have become the man the whole group trusts. And, let me tell you, you have made me feel a lot better already this morning.” Lana hung up without waiting for him to accept her nomination.

Angelo calculated that Lexi would be awake and wondering where he was, probably worried. When he let himself in the room and closed the door quietly behind him, he saw she was up and moving. She seemed a little put out with him.

“You didn’t even leave a note. With all that happened last night, I have been worried sick about what was going on and where you were.”

“I couldn’t sleep and went down for an early breakfast.” He filled her in on what he had read in the paper and about his conversation with Lana.

“A meeting in Leelanau,” she said. “That’s a wonderful idea.” She tossed her suitcase on the bed. “We have to get back home then. We have to make some plans. I’m still mad at you. But I’m proud of you too. I’m sure Governor Birnbaum would be grateful.”

Chapter 29

Homestead Evening

NITH met the next weekend on the Leelanau Peninsula, the “Little Finger” of the Michigan mitten. The Homestead Resort was not far from Angelo and Lexi’s home in Eagletown, nor was it far from their beloved Sleeping Bear. People began arriving mid-day on Friday. Drinks were scheduled for five-thirty, with dinner and a short meeting to follow.

Since it was only a week removed from the night of the assassination attempt, the happy hour was less happy than normal. A few people were missing due to the short notice but most were there and others had said they would make it in time for the Saturday morning meeting.

Most of the conversation Angelo heard was about the events of the last week: the governor continued to improve, there were more rumors of conspiracies, and even possible terrorist connections. Nothing of any substance had been confirmed. As far as anybody knew, the shooting was another instance of a lone wolf trying in his perverted way to make some sort of statement that even he didn’t understand.

As a result of the shooting, NITH had become more visible. It had been in the news every day. Feedback was pouring in, most of it encouraging them to move forward on their early ideas. Editorials in many newspapers appealed for the public’s support of Governor Birnbaum and his courageous and unflinching effort to fulfill his campaign promise to change the game. Of course, this only added to the group’s determination to make something good happen.

Interspersed among those two major topics, Angelo was pleased to hear mention of the beauty of Northern Michigan, especially from those who had never been to this part of the state before. Perry Karas commented that the Red Wings preseason training camp always took place in nearby Traverse City in early September, a getaway that the players always enjoyed.

When they all sat down for dinner, Lana stood to welcome everyone and assure them of the governor’s progress. Angelo felt embarrassed when she went on. “I also want to thank Angelo RoundSky,” she said, “for setting things up on such short notice. Our meeting up here, in this beautiful part of the state, was all his idea. Just now, over drinks, I’ve been hearing a lot of people rededicating themselves to the success of our mission. That was Angelo’s purpose in suggesting this gettogether. He was — as most all of us were, I’m sure — sad, angry, and determined when things all started to sink in.

“I’m sure it upset some plans and schedules for all of you to be here, but I’m also sure that this is where we should be this weekend. As I have promised before, I am not going to interfere with your deliberations, but I felt as determined as the rest of you to be here, where the action is.”

Angelo stood, sensing it was his turn to speak. “Lana, we need you to speak when you want to speak, say what you want to say, just like everyone else here. As someone said at our last meeting, ‘we need more voices and more choices.’ Also, I want to say that I’ll have a little announcement when we finish eating, so please don’t anyone leave until then.”

As the group dug into their food, the conversation topics remained as they were before dinner but with a bit more vigor. Some were gratified to observe Angelo’s newfound assertiveness and commented on their curiosity about his announcement. All expressed their growing respect for the man.

When dishes were cleared and napkins put aside, Angelo rose again and people rang their spoons against their glasses. He spoke in his usual modulated tone and cadence.

“Instead of a regular start for our meeting tonight, Lexi and I arranged a little trip. (He wanted to say ‘my wife, Lexi and I,’ but they weren’t quite there yet.) We are blessed to have a perfect evening for it. For those not already dressed in casual clothes, I suggest you go to your rooms and change. Put on something you can get around in outdoors. It will be chilly. We will meet in front of the lodge in fifteen minutes, where you will find a bus waiting.”

The mood turned more lighthearted as people, full of curiosity, boarded the bus for the short trip through Glen Arbor, into the National Park and seashore area, past the climbing dune, and onto Pierce Stocking Drive, the road that wound its way up to the top of the Sleeping Bear. Lexi was waiting for them and led them up the short walkway to the top, while Angelo brought up the rear.

Murmurs moved through the group as they took in the spectacular view out over the inland sea of Lake Michigan and then looked down the steep 450-foot cliff of glacial sand running down to the water’s edge. Named “the most beautiful place in America in 2011 by ABC’s Good Morning, America, it was, indeed, breathtaking.

When they had all gathered, Angelo spoke. “This is our spot, Lexi and me. We thought if you came up here and took in all this beauty, and, stretched to see as far as you could see over that great expanse of freshwater — maybe all the way to Wisconsin — if we did this together, we might all see the immensity and the beauty of our lives on this planet, and see beyond our differences to those things we all have in common: our common purpose as a group, including protecting all of this and making lives better for all our citizens, for seven generations to come.”

He paused to let them take in the panorama. The sun was already setting and the few pink-shaded clouds promised a glorious sunset.

“In the peak of summer,” Angelo said, “the light in the western sky hangs on until after ten o’clock. We can’t, as mortals, stop time or other things that happen beyond our control, as we have recently been reminded. Although the days are getting longer, our time to get our work done is getting shorter. We had planned on months to complete our work, but things happened beyond our control. Now we need to work as though the sun is about to set. Take it all in tonight. Enjoy it. Be mindful. And then we will get down to work tomorrow morning at eight.”

His words were followed by a silence as meaningful as the scene before them. He and Lexi embraced and turned to the north toward the Manitous. As the sun lowered over the pink and blue waves of the inland sea, the evening’s ambient light took on a peach glow. Then the orange sphere, having traveled far to the south in its journey, began to find its way to the horizon, sending out rays to the postcard-perfect clouds, slashes of purple and red appeared against a deep-blue backdrop. A chill began to climb up hundreds of feet from the sandy shore below.

It was a quiet ride back to the resort but not a somber one. A copy of the Sleeping Bear Legend had been placed in each room.

Chapter 30

Homestead Weekend

Angelo was happy to see everyone seated in the conference room early the next morning. There were books and papers in front of each of them, he guessed put there by Lana. He sensed common purpose and positive momentum tempered only by the challenge before them. In addition to the many public suggestions, everyone was well aware of substantive differences of opinion within their membership. Despite the assassination attempt, and despite the awe-filled evening they shared atop the dune, those differences were still there. Angelo opened the meeting by asking Lana if she had any news from the governor.

She smiled and said, “I do. First, let me tell you that letters and texts and emails of support for our governor and for the work of this group have been pouring in. Even from my lovable, hardcore-conservative grandfather. There has also been a significant increase of support from our state officers and our legislators, some who we assumed were our opponents. Governor Birnbaum spoke of changing the frame at the press conference — how if you change the frame, you change the whole picture. Despite the awful events of last week, they have changed the frame. So, more power to us and pray that we are up to the job. As for the condition of my friend, the governor, I’m glad to report that Charlie is out of the woods and on his way to a full recovery. He will have a tube in his lung for a while. He needs rest, but this morning he was awake and feeling well enough to send this text:

Victor Hugo: “Armies cannot stop an idea whose time has come.”

Our time is now. Carry on your courageous work.

This time there was applause, wholehearted applause.

“So let’s do this, my friends!” Lana said. “Based on the output from your last meeting, we have given each of you three books — Future Perfect by Steven Johnson, which discusses peer networks and many other ideas you talked about; Citizenville by Gavin Newsom, which talks about ‘more voices and more choices,’ and other topics; and Happy City by Charles Montgomery, which was cited in your presentation. In addition, there are some interesting papers covering the pros and cons of sortition, or selecting a legislature by lot, and of a unicameral versus a bicameral legislature. Thank you to Tom Samuels and Perry Karas for bringing some of these papers to my attention. I have been digging into them myself. Stimulating.”

Nodding toward the woman seated next to her, Lana added, “Speaking of resources, there’s Joss. She may be a newcomer for some of you, but I think several of you know Joss by now. She is not only my dearest friend, soulmate, and the love of my life — she is also the managing partner of one of the top law firms in the state. This weekend, as we move toward drafting one or more amendments, she and I can help you with the legal requirements involved in that process.”

Joss smiled and said, “I’m looking forward to working with this group. Besides what I read in the papers and on the internet about all the good work you’re doing, Lana also filled me in on your progress. I know that sometimes lawyers are seen as the people who tell you no so as to keep you out of trouble. Not this weekend. I am here to help you find a way to say yes — but in such a way to bypass any legal barriers.”

Angelo spoke up. “Joss, thank you for being here. We’re rookies at this and need all the help we can get. Lana, we need you too. Don’t hold back. Lem, you’re our moderator.”

“Not if I can help it,” Lem Tracker replied. “Seriously, I would rather not. I don’t want to stay above the fray. I want to be able to express my thoughts and feelings. As moderator, I can’t do that. You have been doing fine, Angelo. Why don’t you stay in the lead?” His suggestion was followed by several heahears.

“You’ve done such a good job, Lem, thank you. I’ve never been a moderator,” Angelo said, “and what if I want to say what’s on my mind?”

Cher Richie responded. “Then do it. We need to hear you. Hopefully we’ve matured some as a group since our first morning session in Flint.” She rolled her eyes before going on. “Wow, doesn’t that seem longer than two weeks ago now? Anyway, let’s just start in and let the chips fall where they may. If we find we need a moderator later, we can always switch. Lana, you jump in if you think we need help. Last time we broke into subgroups but I think we should first try as a whole to move on from where we left off. We can break up later if we think it will help. In my opinion, the biggest overriding issue — and maybe the most contentious — is the fundamental lack of trust in our state government. Perry addressed that in his ‘Imagine’ presentation. I boil it down to two main ideas: sortition and transparency. In the interest of restoring trust, I think those are the two concrete, actionable proposals. Madeline and Tom thought we should just offer some tweaks. And that’s where we left it.”

Wayne Keith said, “What about the other issues we discussed in the other groups — things like education and the environment, and health and safety?”

“So important, Wayne,” said Cher, “but we’re up against the gun here.” She stopped herself. “Oh, dear, unfortunate word choice. I’m sorry but if we’re going to come to some form of agreement on one or two amendments over this weekend, those other issues, while important, might be too much. We need to narrow our focus, not try to cover everything. If we just address trust in government in one or two amendments, those others issues can and will be addressed by the new state government.”

Angelo said, “I get what you’re saying, but the environment is near and dear to me. Wayne and Martha care the same way about public education. We talked about a Bill of Responsibilities. Can’t we at least make a statement in a more general amendment along those lines?”

“Like an amended preamble,” suggested Susan Kerns.

“I like that idea,” said Cher. “We should say something about inclusiveness and, of course, the economy. Those all affect the trust issue too. Maybe we can address multiple issues in a preamble.”

Tom Samuels spoke up. “I think that’s good. Let’s do it, but first things first, like picking our legislators by lot.” He chuckled.

Angelo looked down at the table. He sensed Tom was picking a fight. Perry just smiled and said, “I know where you stand on that one.”

Samuels paused for a second and then said, “I know I took the other side before, but things have happened and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And studying. In fact, I’ve already read some of the items Lana brought for us this morning. Look, I still believe in a chain of command. I still think we need clear leadership. But last Friday night was a life-changing event for all of us, I believe. I know it was for me. Governor Birnbaum is our leader. He is the reason we are even here talking about this. When I think of what happened — I mean, I looked him in the eyes up close while I was still holding that guy’s gun. I saw a look I will never forget. Sure there was shock and pain — but I also saw a fierce look. He was not just scared, he was mad and determined. I always liked the governor, even though I often didn’t agree with him. He’s a fun guy, a charmer. But this man was and still is dead serious about changing our state and our state government. On this mission, he’s my commander and he wants this. What he has said all along finally sunk in: he won’t be satisfied with incremental change. He’s committed to something much bigger than that. He’s my commander and I’m a good soldier.

“And, as I have thought more and studied more, he’s right. Our system really is broken, and we can’t just tinker a little with it. It’s not just one or two problems, it’s a whole, big, complicated mess. We need to deal with the whole mess as one big mess, not fix a problem here and there. We need a whole new game. I’m convinced of that now. I’m ready to listen. So, Perry, let’s go over those things you said we should imagine one more time.”

“Well, that just leaves me, doesn’t it?” said Madeline Edges. “I’m still leery of jumping off a cliff. Maybe that’s because I watched my business collapse. But Tom’s right, the governor chartered our group to create something transformative, not to tweak what we have. Ever since our first meeting in Flint, I have been trying to decide if I can get on board with those expectations. If not, I thought I should just resign from the group. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to reflect on my own life and career. If you will allow me, I would like to take a few minutes to tell you about some of my own experiences.”

She related the story of how she and her husband met at Great Expectations, an old used bookstore on an Ann Arbor side street, when they were both undergraduate English majors at U of M. It was the sixties, the time of SDS and sometimes violent protest on the Ann Arbor campus — but reading and talking about books and ideas with each other and their friends was the way they expressed their rebellion. When the owner, who had become a friend of the group, retired, he offered the store to them at a very low price, and they scraped enough together to buy it.

“Over time, we began to sell new books, even best-sellers, and, in addition to the old-book lovers who were our regulars, we began to get all kinds of people into the store. We did what we could to exploit the charm of the old place and it began to make money — and boy, did we need money. Being successful also meant having more customers and making more money. We used the money and a big loan to buy a large vacant store location right on the edge of campus, but we didn’t call it Great Expectations, we called it Edges. That was the first Edges bookstore — and the rest is history, I guess. When my husband died, I became the CEO. I was determined to show that I could do it on my own, without a man.”

She described how she forgot the basic ingredient to their success: choosing book lovers like themselves to run the branch stores and leaving them alone while taking advantage of the economies of scale of a chain. “There were real threats to the book business at the time. Without even realizing it, I began to become more of a micromanager. As I have been sitting out there in Chelsea these last few weeks, loving books again, I woke up to how much I had changed and how I managed and what effect that had on the branches and the good people who ran them. I may just be able to imagine again, Perry. It feels good to start something up again instead of closing it down. It felt scary when John and I went into debt for Great Expectations. It feels good to be a little scared again, to use my imagination again, to have great expectations again. Mostly it feels good.”

Perry broke the silence. “Maddie, you are amazing for telling us that story. I knew a little about your company’s background but I know so much more now, and it means so much more. We all have our own stories to tell. Thank you for sharing yours. I’m sure you have much experience we could learn from.”

“I will share one other thing right now,” she responded. “Call it a cautionary tale. As a woman who gave birth to two children and as a woman who went through a long struggle starting up a business and the long, heartbreaking loss of that business, I tell you now, without reservation: giving birth is difficult but resurrection is a miracle.”

That provoked some laughter. But Angelo, a Native American whose people had suffered over a century of genocide, and now about to become a father himself, felt the truth in her words.

Wynn, who had been leaning back in his chair as he listened to Tom and Maddie, sat up straight. “Now you have me really scared. I was prepared to deal with disagreement this weekend. But now, I don’t know. Now I have to be more careful what I wish for, don’t I?”

“What we’re telling you and Perry and the rest of you,” said Tom, “is keep doing what you did to get us here. I’m still a practical guy — an engineer who likes to see a blueprint — not so good at dreaming. We have the bare bones. Now, let’s put some meat on them. What do all those ‘Imagines’ look like in the real world? We need the specs.

“I think you told us that these ideas are already being practiced somewhere in the world right now and that they are working. What would they look like in our state, in our constitution? We may have come around to a new way of thinking but we have a long way to go in translating that into action.”

Perry replied, “Like Wynn said, be careful what you wish for. Now we have to move past inspiration and get down to the nitty-gritty. We have a couple lawyers and a new state Representative to help us.”

Susan Kerns brightened at the reference to her and spoke. “Right, but while we’re telling stories, Perry, you have told us of your strong belief in true democracy. As a newly elected state House member, I’m curious. I’d like us to start there.”

“Well, since my middle-school disillusionment with the McLaren Cup and Councilman McLaren’s pompous pronouncement that we had a republic and not a democracy, I have made it my business to study the history of democracies all over the world, from ancient times until now. When I tossed the idea of sortition out there, knowing it would be controversial, I was not ready to throw myself on any swords over it. Now that we have talked more about it and, like Tom, now that I have studied some of the things that Lana brought us this morning, I am convinced of the merits of the whole principle. I know it still seems like a radical idea, but I’m ready to be an advocate.”

Chapter 31

The Blog

NITH

Percy Oliver, Names in the Hat/Michigan constitutional Council

Posted on April 7 6, 2019

Good Morning, Michigan.

Once again, I am Percy Oliver, your NITH blogger, bringing you up to date regarding our progress on amending the state constitution of Michigan. For a complete account of today’s session, please see our podcast. This blog is just a summary.

After an inspiring trip last evening to take in the view from the Sleeping Bear Dunes, you could sense the group’s quiet intensity this morning. Once at work, we surprised ourselves with the efficiency with which we moved through the task before us. This is not to say we didn’t sometimes engage in vigorous debate. We did. We had to deal with difficult issues to which there are no easy answers.

People spoke their minds openly and listened with open minds — at least as open as the minds of people with strong views can be. Many people commented that the momentum and cohesiveness seemed to have soared in the aftermath of the attempted assassination of our leader, Governor Birnbaum.

Summary of Proposals

[Note: Jocelyn Urabana, Managing Partner, Urabana Associates, was in attendance. She and Lana Hartman will be working with members of NITH to draft the final, legal language of two amendments based on our proposals below.]

The Stewardship Amendment

In our previous meetings, we discussed adding a Bill of Responsibilities to balance our long-honored US Bill of Rights, which is already acknowledged in our state constitution. This addition will address our need for stewardship of our environment (especially our precious lakes and rivers}; for the education of our children and youth (and even opportunities for continuous learning throughout life — true cradle-to-grave community education); for an economy to create and support jobs and quality of life for our citizens; for public health and safety; and, over it all, responsibility for creating and sustaining a climate of trust between government and the citizenry. We came to call this our “Stewardship Amendment.” It was suggested that the oath for all legislators include a pledge to stewardship.

The Governance Structure Amendment

Benjamin Franklin said, “Congress should be a mirror of the people.” John Adams wrote that a legislature should be “in miniature, an exact portrait of the people at large.”

In fact, our present Congress is mostly male, mostly white, mostly rich, mostly college-educated. “The people” it supposedly represents are 50% male, 30% college-educated, and 5% millionaires. This says nothing of the lack of ethnic or racial diversity, or the fact that lawyers are over-represented by a very large margin. In other words, Congress is far from any resemblance to a “portrait” of the people. The same can be said of our state legislature. We are governed by a political class that is very different from the citizenry. Numerous polls show Congress with a lower approval rating than used-car salesmen and the bubonic plague.

Using some form of random selection, on the other hand, Congress would come much closer statistically to a “portrait in miniature.” About half would be female; two thirds non-college graduates; and ethnic, racial, and economic groups would roughly approximate their presence in the country as a whole. Importantly, given this diversity, they would be much more likely to represent the thoughts and values of the people as a whole rather than a particular political party or special-interest group. For those concerned about the potential for lack of competence in legislators selected at random, extensive research has shown that diversity trumps ability. We are committed to the notion that we need “more voices and more choices.”

Therefore, we propose: A randomly selected, nonpartisan unicameral legislature (with appropriate legal restrictions and exemptions) of 150 representatives. Peer networks may be sanctioned by the legislature as appropriate and may be initiated by office holders or citizens themselves. Legislators shall be limited to two three-year terms, staggered so as to have experienced cohorts in office at all times. Complete transparency will help assure accountability of legislators and empower citizen participation in governing, while greatly reducing time and money now spent on campaigns and elections.

Conclusion

Further detail of our rationale for these proposals can be found by viewing our podcast of the proceedings. You are encouraged to do so.

We left our meeting with a kind of somber satisfaction, perhaps exhausted from wrestling with vitally important but difficult issues, but happy and committed to the results while at the same time subdued at the realization that we may not meet again with these people we have worked with so closely. This may be my last blog on the subject. But maybe not. Who knows?

Tags: NITH, Live Streaming, Sortition, Random Selection, Michigan Legislature, Unicameral, Political Parties, Peer-to-Peer Networks, Stewardship

What do you think?

We are eager to hear from you and will respect all points of view provided they are offered in a respectful manner. Rude troll comments will be deleted from this site.

Chapter 32

Ceremonious Occasions

After lunch at the Homestead, Angelo, Perry, Julia, Lana, and Joss made their way back up to Sleeping Bear. Angelo was smiling. “It’s an eagle feather,” he explained when he sensed their surprise. In addition to the feather in his braided hair, he was also wearing a clean white shirt trimmed in Ojibwe symbols. The plan was for a simple civil marriage ceremony presided over by Joss, but Lexi wanted a few traditional Native touches. “A little something for my mother and your grandmother,” she told him.

As they waited at the top of the dune, Angelo, the nervous groom, calmed himself when once again he took in the view. “When I look out across the lake,” he told the others, “I always say I’m looking for Wisconsin. It’s more than that. To me, the western horizon and beyond are the future, but I’m also looking to the past. They say this dune, the Mother Bear, and her cubs, those two islands to the north, started out in Wisconsin. Ojibwe believe that all time is a circle. From up here, I try to sense the whole of the circle. Sometimes I almost can.”

They heard a faint but steady drumbeat from the direction of the parking lot below. It slowly grew closer. Finally, two older female drummers in ceremonial attire came into view. A glowing Lexi followed close behind. She was striking in a long, white wedding gown adorned with Ojibwe icons. Two eagle feathers were held in place in the back of her head by a turquoise-beaded headband that encircled her shimmering black hair.

With Perry and Julia as best man and bridesmaid, Joss presided over the civil service. At the moment of the ring exchange, Grandma Emma stood before the couple and spoke briefly in her Native tongue, then translated: “To feel true mutual love is to know and love the Gichi-manidoo, the Great Mystery, because the very breath of Gichi-manidoo is considered the giver of human life. It is through love of oneself that we express our love for the Great Mystery of Life. Migizi, the Bald Eagle, represents the teaching of love because he flies high above the earth and is therefore closer to the Great Mystery than any other creature. Love is the most elusive of all virtues and no other creature is so elusive as this mighty spirit-bird, and love has the same light and airy nature as his feathers.”

Dream Catcher

Angelo and Lexi exchanged rings of white gold, engraved with eagle symbols. After he kissed the bride, Angelo beamed at her before he looked out at the natural beauty of the sand cliff, the backdrop of lake and the sky. For him, the simplicity of the ceremony came layered with his memories, dreams, hopes, and aspirations.

The small caravan moved on to the newlyweds’ Eagletown neighborhood for a ceremony they were keeping under wraps. Having put off knowing the sex of their baby, now that they were married, Lexi and Angelo decided they could wait no longer. They would make the two happy announcements on the same day.

Neighbors and friends had gathered in the cul-de-sac outside their home and on the vacant lot next door, enjoying a keg of beer and some snacks. The wedding party arrived a bit later than planned, and people were well into the party mood and restless in anticipation of the main event. A mix of cheers and boos met Angelo and company as they emerged from their cars and exchanged handshakes and hugs with the small crowd. Loud music vibrated from a boombox.

Angelo’s old friend from school days, Frank Crowley, pulled a hockey stick from the back of his pickup and handed it to Angelo. Crowley held three pucks and invited Perry and Lana to join him and Angelo into the street.

Days before, Lexi and Angelo had asked her OB/GYN to place a paper with the baby’s sex in an envelope and then, blindfolded so they wouldn’t see, the doctor helped them Skype Frank Crowley. They then opened the envelope just enough for him to see the paper before they burned it. He was the only one to know.

Crowley took the stick from Angelo, handed it to Lana, and got ready to drop a puck. Lana was ready and made solid contact sending the disc down the middle of the road. Next was Perry, who took his best slapshot and sent the puck whistling two feet off the ground until it landed well past Lana’s before running several more feet on the pavement. The crowd let loose with their own whistles of appreciation.

Angelo took his position, ready to outdo his friends. Crowley dropped the puck. Angelo connected solidly as the puck then burst into thousands of tiny flakes of blue powder.

Everyone was taken by surprise, no one more than Angelo, his hockey stick dropping to the concrete. The silent detonation discombobulated him for several seconds before it began to dawn on him that he was soon to become the father of a boy, leaving him even more stunned.

It was some time before the other interested spectators could take it in as well. Lexi ran to throw her arms around the boy’s father-to-be. The two held each other until their faces broke into shocked amazement and then hysterical laughter.

“It’s a boy,” shouted Crowley, anticlimactically, and the spectators erupted in cheers and applause. Perry and Lana cracked up and rushed to hug the soon-to-be parents. The entire wedding party then joined the celebration in the middle of the street.

The happy couple made the rounds of friends and neighbors, getting hugs from all. Finally, Angelo asked Crowley to whistle his loud, shrill whistle because he wanted to make an announcement. With Lexi beaming at his side, Angelo said, “First of all, Lex and I want to thank all of you for coming out for this reveal party. As you can imagine, it’s been an exciting time for us … and our little boy. Just before we came over here, Lex finally made an honest man of me. For about the fourth time, she asked me to marry her and I finally gave in. We are now man and wife, as well as soon-to-be proud parents of a little boy. So, thanks, everyone. Let’s keep the party going.”

Chapter 33

The Power of NITH

It was only two weeks after the wedding when Lexi picked up Angelo’s vibrating phone and checked the caller ID before handing it to him. “Guess who?” she said. He looked at her quizzically as he put the phone to his ear and she mouthed the name Lana Hartman.

“Back to work,” she said. “But first, how’s the bride coming along?”

“All three of us are doing great, thank you.”

“As you might imagine, it’s a very busy time.”

“Politics.”

“Listen, Angelo, I have a big ask …”

“Anything I can do.”

Angelo smiled at Lexi as she stopped emptying the dishwasher and went to the bedroom. He knew she would be listening in to the call.

“I hope you mean that. Joss is working the legal side of things and the governor, his staff, and I are all working the politics. More important than any of that, though, we need to rally public support so the professional politicians can’t stop us. They need to hear from the voters.”

“You know way more about that than I do. So how can I help?”

“I remember the stories you told about the way the Algonkians governed themselves.”

“Some Algonkians,” he emphasized. “That was a long time ago.”

“Okay, but what about the “battle chief” or “war chief” or something like that?”

“Battle chief. It was a temporary job,” he said. “After the battle, he was made to go through a rite to rid himself of his temporary power. He had to wash it off.”

“That’s the one. We need you to be our battle chief this summer. We don’t have much time left to get on ballot for the August primary. You’re going to lead our statewide campaign to drum up popular support. I’ve watched you grow into a natural leader with NITH. For a while, you never said much, but when you did, people hung on your words — they respected you and trusted what you had to say. Then, as you became more involved and revealed more of your background and character, you became the man.”

“I was just doing what I thought was right. I wasn’t going to let anything get in our way.”

“And that’s precisely what we need now, someone who won’t let anything get in our way.”

“I don’t know anything about public relations campaigns. I would need help with the technicalities. Plus, I’m stuck way up here in Northern Michigan.”

“Don’t worry about the technical stuff. We have professionals who can help you. As for downstate, you can recruit from NITH.”

“Cher Richie and Wynn Stewbie are down in the Detroit area. They are both good with digital stuff. They would come in handy with a social media campaign.”

“It sounds like you’re accepting the job.”

“The temporary job. Then I’ll have to get it all washed off me.”

“Understood.”

“We’re going to need advertising too, and video. And budget. Cash.”

“See how much you know already? We’ll help get you whatever you need to go into battle.”

“I need to say the usual stuff — how humbled and flattered I am — because frankly, I am. And more than a little nervous about it. But excited too. I hope I can measure up.”

“I have no doubt on that score. So, tell me, you’ve been married all of a week or so — how’s married life treating you?”

“Like I said, we’re all doing great, but you may have just cut into the honeymoon.”

“Oh, dear, what were you planning?”

Angelo laughed and said, “I’m just kidding. Our only plan was to stick around here and do our thing. We do live in God’s country, you know. And it’s peak season up here. Why go anywhere else?”

“Well, now you may have to get around and see the state.”

“Right. Could be fun, but I’m taking my baby momma with me.”

“As you should, my friend. I wish the both of you all the happiness in the world. Please tell Lexi I said so. I’ll be in touch.”

Lexi strolled into the bedroom, a smirk on her face. “Battle chief, huh? Well, what do you know about that?” Lexi said.

“What about you, Lex?”

“What about me?”

“I’m thinking two things. One, you’ve been in that management job at the cherry co-op for some time now. You’re good at it. And two, you were at Standing Rock.”

“So?”

“You told me how well organized the protest was there. The logistics. The way different groups worked together and all that.”

“It was amazing. I still find it inspiring.”

“So, why don’t you take charge of that part of our campaign?”

“That’s your job. And I’m pregnant, remember?”

“You would be better at that job than I would and we need the best people on every job. I think you could pull this off.”

“I’ll have to think about it. You caught me by surprise.”

“This whole thing catches me by surprise.”

They were interrupted when Angelo’s phone rang again. Cher’s name appeared. “Hey, partner, what do you think?” he asked, assuming she had already talked with Lana.

“It will be great to work with you; that’s what I think. I’m looking forward to it, partner.”

“We’re going to need social media. I’m depending on you.”

“Working on it already, Angelo. I’ll have some ideas to run by you soon.”

“We can’t do all this with just the two of us. We need to round up a band of warriors.”

“Right, of course. I’ve got millions of people to cover down here and you’ve probably got that many acres.”

“And trees, don’t forget to count the trees.”

“Especially in the UP”

“Right. I’m going to start by contacting Nick Lahti. I also have another guy in mind, not a guy from NITH.”

“No need to limit ourselves to NITH members, although we should use them where we can.”

“Have you ever done a PR campaign?”

“Not me. You?”

“Nope. So, here we go again. Amateurs running the show.”

“As it should be. Look at where the so-called pros have gotten us. ‘All the people,’ remember?”

“And I’m good with that. But we need to do this together. We don’t have much time before the we’re on the ballot for the August primary.”

“Let’s do it. Stay in touch, Angelo.”

“Just Ang is good, Cher.”

Next Angelo called Lahti in Houghton and filled him in, asking him to be on the team. “We’re going to need some help up there, and I have at least one other guy in mind. Do you happen to know the Garfield Township Police Captain in Mackinac County?”

“That’s a long way from Houghton.”

“Of course, just thought maybe. His name is Dan Jankowski. I dealt with him on the Enbridge Line 5 thing a couple of years ago. We were on opposite sides but he’s not a bad guy and I think he’s popular among the locals. I’m going to give him a call, if that’s all right.”

“What the hell? You’re the chief, right?

“Enough of that chief business, Nick. I’ll be in touch. We’ll need a conference call soon.”

Next he looked for the business card Jankowski had given him in the Engadine days and punched in the captain’s office number. A man’s voice answered. “Captain Clark’s office.” Jankowski, it turned out, was retired, replaced by Clark. Angelo explained who he was and asked the dispatcher to pass his number onto the retired captain.

Within the hour, Angelo got the call. “Dan Jankowski here. So what the hell do you want?”

“I thought you were probably out fishing.”

“The fish are having a quiet day. Too hot. Then I hear from Clark’s office there’s a bad-tempered Indian fella comin’ after me. Thought I’d better head him off at the pass. How you doin, eh? Never thought I’d ever hear from you again.”

“Captain, I need you.”

“A little late to admit that, ain’t it?”

“Way too late.”

“So, what’s up?”

Angelo filled him in on the back story of the constitution project and his role in it as best he could.

Jankowski said, “Yeah, I’ve been reading about that and seeing stuff on TV. It’s definitely time for some big changes in our government. The two parties just going after each other, the usual bullshit. And then the guy in the White House is a dangerous nutcase. I voted for Charlie Birnbaum because of all that nonsense, and he seems to be trying to do the right things. Awful shame about the assassination attempt. You were there, I read. From what I’ve seen, he’s coming along okay.”

“He needs you now. That’s why I’m calling.”

“He needs me?”

“Well, I need you on his behalf. You know people up there and they like you. They voted for you many times over the years. Something tells me you know how to mount a campaign directed to the folks in that part of the UP.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“We have another good man in Houghton and I know a woman in Escanaba who I’m planning to ask.”

“Just tell me what you want me to do. Fish ain’t bitin’ anyway, and it might be nice to feel useful again.”

Angelo and Cher Richie enlisted Wynn Stewbie, which took care of the multimedia piece. They decided to use a crowdsourcing site to raise money beyond what Governor Birnbaum and Lana could come up with. The extra money would help with the finances, while also raising awareness and commitment from people. Percy Oliver would continue to blog and use his MSU contacts.

When Angelo asked Lana and Percy to recruit students to work the campuses and neighborhoods, thousands of enthusiastic young people hit the streets. The amendment campaign required a minimum of 300,000 legal signatures; which, in reality, meant many more were needed to get past any possible legal irregularities. The students were trained by a professional petition group hired by Lana, but the actual drive was carried out by the volunteers. Soon they were going door-to-door for signatures and mounting public demonstrations of support in a variety of ways. Students, workers, and sports and entertainment celebrities joined arms and marched together in communities across the state.

Cher and Wynn launched a powerful strategy using Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Other sites, such as change.org for online petitions, amplified their influence.

Angelo worked with the governor’s PR staff and an ad agency — but he also had another idea. The Traverse City Film Festival always included Native American entries, and Angelo knew and respected the work of award-winning documentary filmmaker Gwen Katherine, whom he persuaded, with little resistance on her part, to make both short- and long-form television ads.

The various opponents, as Lana had predicted, pulled out the stops as well. The campaign was hit from both the right and the left. Dark money generously provided for their opposition’s campaigns. Lobby groups, that would no longer be able to finance campaigns for or against a candidate, were threatened by their potential loss of influence, and fought back hard. The NRA was doubly challenged by the reaction to the attempted assassination of Governor Birnbaum and the possible lessening of its financial influence by a random selection of lawmakers. It went deep into its substantial war chest to fight the amendment. Fake news stories appeared on Facebook, reporting false scandals about many of the NITH members and Lana and Joss’s relationship. Lawsuits were filed that challenged the legality of the amendment and petition-signing processes. Joss’s law firm and the governor’s lawyers handled those cases independent of Angelo’s warriors but he stayed in the information loop in all cases.

The opponents’ campaign emphasized the risks of the proposed new form of government, the need for experienced leaders, the loss of that great American privilege of voting, and of jumping off into the unknown. They did their well-funded best to exploit the fear factor.

It didn’t hurt at all — in fact, it might have provided a significant turning point in the campaign’s favor — when Boykin finally woke up to the impact all this might have on him and his November Presidential election chances, which were already was looking pretty dismal. His early-morning Tweet —

Michigan heading toward catastrophe. Birnbaum off his rocker. Lunatics running the asylum. I can fix it — produced an immediate and widespread backlash in the state. Even Senator Billings flinched and called the governor privately. “Charlie, I can’t take any more of the Boy King. I’m still a Republican but I admire what you’re trying to do, even if don’t totally understand it. You can count on my support.”

Meanwhile, Gwen Katherine’s ads focused on the need to change the system. She used Birnbaum’s favorite metaphor as a running tagline: “It’s not enough to change the players. It’s time to change the game.” As people became familiar with the concept, the tagline was shortened to “Time to Change the Game”; which became the motto for the ads and the entire campaign.

Opponents attempted to counter with the slogan “Government Is NOT a Game” — but it never acquired traction.

Katherine also created an hour-long film that opened with a scene of the turbid waters of the Flint River with a swirling fade into a montage of the perils of the existing system the whole, the watery swirl from Flint a recurring backdrop for live footage from the floor of the Legislative bodies at both the state and federal levels that showed representatives from both parties making self-righteous proclamations based solely on partisan politics; political campaigns that demonstrated even greater schisms; town hall meetings with outraged citizens from all political polls clamoring to be heard by their indifferent and defensive representatives; and clips of those citizens complaining that they were not being heard. Continuing the film’s dizzying spiral, President Billy Boykin made multiple appearances with outlandish Tweets superimposed on his brief scenes; as did Senate Majority Leader Richard McShay of Tennessee and his use of the so-called nuclear option to cut off debate on a Supreme Court nominee; and a prominent pundit’s comment that McShay had just killed the Senate itself.

Following brief but effective use of charts and data from the Michigan Fractured Trust study, the montage concluded with the Flint River rushing like a tsunami up and over the Michigan Statehouse building itself, finally fading to the famous scene from the movie Network, when news anchor Howard Beale urges citizens to “get up right now, sit up, go to your windows, open them and yell — ‘I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore.’”

The film then shifted to the renewal mode, with clips from the Michigan Speaks Conference and the NITH meetings, showing grassroots citizen participation and lists of their values, goals, and concerns; eventually focusing on the positive points of the proposed amendments. Portions of interviews with NITH members and other supporters were shown, including an endorsement from popular columnist Jimmy Owens. The movie concluded with cellphone video of the assassination attempt on Governor Charlie Birnbaum; mugshots of his alleged assassin; and, finally, Governor Birnbaum recuperating in his hospital bed, making a strong plea for supporting the need for a new way of governing. The governor was obviously not at full strength but his charisma managed to shine through as he made a passionate argument for not just fixing a few problems but for fundamental change of the underlying system. “Time to change the game,” he said.

Michael Moore, a Flint area native, now with a home in Traverse City, was the founder of the popular Traverse City Film Festival that drew visitors from all over the state and beyond every summer. He was so moved by the one hour documentary’s focus on the problems of Flint, some of which he had predicted decades before in his movie,”Roger and Me,” that he ran it in the Festival in early August, not long before voting day. Some NITH members, including Angelo and Lexi, appeared in person after the film for a Q & A session.

Thousands of citizens provided feedback and suggestions on the crowdsourcing site, all of which were considered in the final proposed amendments. Cher Richie and Wynn Stewbie digitally combed through the names of these contributors and, in consultation with Angelo, drafted many of them into joining the battle.

Meanwhile, on the political front, Lana and Governor Birnbaum worked the elected officials, as well as the shakers and movers from local governments, and leaders in the private sector-state and federal legislators and their key staff, mayors, union leaders, and the CEOs of prominent Michigan companies. Lana and Charlie sought out supporters from all segments of the state power structure, the gatekeepers and opinion leaders. They did their best to include everyone of influence, but when they knew they were fighting a losing battle with an individual or group, they backed off and henceforth treated them with what might be called “benign neglect.” Instead they focused their energy on the supportive forces: prodded and roused and stirred, urged, inspired, shocked, and spurred; lighting fires in, with, and around them.

They assembled supporters into action groups. They didn’t just take one approach, but instead came at these leaders from multiple directions and with multiple appeals. They enlisted the help of the innovators and opinion leaders who had emerged from Michigan Speaks.

They individualized and attempted to find the currency of each VIP, metaphorically, that is. Lana kept Birnbaum informed of her activities out on the trail while he worked the phones from his home as he continued to recover. It became a symbol of prestige to be seen visiting with the recovering governor. In other words, Lana and Charlie got as much leverage from playing the sympathy card as they could.

Sometimes it seemed like one step forward and two steps back, but they bobbed and weaved like the pros they were, pressing the issue and then backing off, surrounding the resisters with supporters, fluidly moving with the situation. They were changing the big picture by changing the little ones.

As voting day approached, Jimmy Owens’s column appeared in the Detroit Free Press:

Drums Along the Grand

Time is growing short, and perhaps the most impressive manifestation of the spirit of this movement toward a new democracy in our state has been the crowdsourcing. And I’m not just talking about the financing. I mean crowds, baby, all kinds of crowds.

Biggest, most-impressive crowd of them all? The Water Protectors, led by quiet, modest, courageous Native American mother-to-be, Lexi Pullman-RoundSky, from Eagletown, a small reservation community up in beautiful Leelanau County.

Who would have thought that after the amazing phenomenon that was Standing Rock was pushed off the headlines, such a happening would ever occur again? But there they were, the Water Protectors — people from throughout the Great Lakes Region, including Canada’s First Peoples and their allies, mostly from Ontario; and others from the so-called Seven Nations — all camping out along the Grand River in Lansing and on the banks of the Red Cedar at MSU, flowing to the Capitol during the day and even to Grand River Avenue here in Detroit.

It is Michigan’s Water Wonderland that brings them here — our inland lakes and streams, and the Great ones — Ontario, Erie, Huron, Michigan, Superior. It is the threats of Enbridge 5 to these Great Lakes; of Nestlé to our groundwater supply; and of clean drinking water to the people of Flint, a city still under a siege brought on by the previous governor. Water brings these protectors together; and their hope and belief that a real democracy, worthy of trust, can help save our natural resources.

Of course, there has been blow-back about “outsiders,” but the overwhelming strength of support is undeniable.

These actions have evoked not only memories of Standing Rock, but also reverberations of our own pots-and-pans revolution of only a few years ago that brought down the state House/Stenhouse gang and, in some ways, gave rise to Charlie Birnbaum and the democracy movement itself. Except this time, the people aren’t banging wooden spoons on kitchenware, they are drumming away on Native ceremonial drums; sometimes joined by drum corps from high schools and colleges operating “out of school” so to speak, risking their status with their institutions.

Together, these groups collected over 400,000 signatures — without paying a dime — almost unheard of in the history of petition drives in this state. “It shows the enthusiasm of everyday people wanting to make sure this change happens,” said Pullman-RoundSky. Drum, drum, drum. Ratta-tat-tat.

Military veterans showed up in force too, as they did at Standing Rock. “We fought for the right to vote,” some vets complained, but most veterans at these rallies answered in overwhelming numbers that their military service was not about voting or not voting but for democracy and freedom and a government of, for, and by the people; a government worthy of trust; a government worthy of fighting for. So, they drummed too. Rat-a-tat-tat.

I see that I am typing the word overwhelming a lot. But that’s just what it is. All of it. Drum, drum, drum. In a constant, consistent, persistent rhythm. Drum, drum, drum. Ratta-tat-tat. All day and well into the night (everybody has to sleep some time), they drum and they dance. Peacefully, always peacefully, though not without resistance from protesters on the other side. But peacefully toward the protesters and respectfully to all.

And — to the frustration of their opponents’ legal challenges — lawfully.

Drum, drum, drum. Rat-a-tat-tat.

Drum roll: Time to vote!

Chapter 34

Michigan Speaks: The Vote

On the morning of voting day, the breaking news was not the proposed amendments to the constitution but that Paul Sikes, the would-be assassin of Governor Birnbaum, was found dead in his cell of an apparent suicide. Although officials promised a thorough investigation, it had already been determined that he was a lone wolf, having lived a life of petty crime, chronic addictions, and multiple disappointments. There were, however, calls for programs and policies to improve mental health care; Governor Birnbaum the face of that effort. Gun control regulations were off the table.

As for the vote itself, an unusually large turnout was expected for an August primary. Lana and the governor were confident. Not Angelo. Lexi was proud of her work. She was deeply grateful and inspired by the passion of the Water Protectors. Nevertheless, as always, she sensed her husband’s feelings and did her best to cheer him up.

At eight that morning, they went to vote. Outside the voting area, they chatted and took in the encouraging words from their Eagletown friends and neighbors.

By mid morning, Lexi, after watching Angelo pace and scroll through television channels watching the same news over and over, suggested a drive around M-22, the scenic highway circling the Leelanau Peninsula. It was a hot, hazy late summer day, past the July tourism peak, with many families having to return downstate to prepare for the start of school. Nevertheless it was still a busy time up north.

They had coffee at a diner in Northport and then slowly made their way to Leland for lunch, where they managed to get a table at the popular Bluebird Cafe. After lunch at the, they strolled down to the Fishtown harbor area where they enjoyed ice cream cones and took in the clear view of the Manitous. As Lexi suspected, the sight gave Angelo’s spirits a lift. They both knew where their next stop would be.

As they looked across Lake Michigan from atop Sleeping Bear, Angelo said, “Ya know, whatever happens with today’s vote, I’m content. We did all we could. You especially. Whatever happens, we will still have each other and soon baby Mark — and this view. We will always have this.”

“For all time, Ang,” Lexi said as she wrapped his arm firmly around her side.

“For all time, Lex. Let’s spend the afternoon down at Empire and North Bar Lake.”

They had a long standing tradition of swimming in that shallow lake every month of the year at least once, but not this day. Instead they walked along their favorite Lake Michigan beach, looking for good skipping stones. Even though he felt some sympathy for his wife’s condition, Angelo could not let her win the skipping contests along the way. When Lexi pleaded for a short break, they stopped at a favorite resting place, a huge, flat, turtle-shaped rock. It was nestled in the dune grass where they sat down to watch the gentle waves lap at the sand.

After a bit, Angelo stood and aimed his phone camera at the mother-to-be. She laughed at him and stood on the rock to pose herself in profile, a mock glamour pose that purposely emphasized her swollen belly. Just then, a lone beach stroller came along and offered to take their picture together.

Angelo handed the man his phone and stood beside his wife on the rock. Neither had any trouble smiling.

They then walked back into the town of Empire for dinner at Joe’s Tavern. It was just five-thirty.

There was still plenty of daylight as they retraced their route on M-22, taking them back into Eagletown and home.

After the polls closed at 8:00 p.m., virtually all eyes in the state of Michigan were glued to televisions to take in the results of the vote. Charlie Birnbaum, his wife Jacquie, and their guests, Lana and Joss, were in the living room of the Governor’s Mansion in Lansing.

When it was announced at 11:30 p.m. that both amendments had passed with more than 70% of the vote from an unusually large turnout for a primary election, Charlie Birnbaum opened a bottle of champagne, against the advice of his doctors. A series of toasts moved from him to the others, beginning with words of heartfelt gratitude that soon plummeted into jokes and laughter.

He couldn’t thank Lana enough, repeating his praise for all her work. His effusiveness finally made her laugh. “Charlie,” she said, “I don’t know which I feel more — joy or relief. It’s been an exciting ride, but now I’ll be glad to get back to teaching law.”

Birnbaum’s smiling face turned sober. “What do you mean, teaching? I only have two years left in my term to get all this stuff implemented. A new game, remember? The people have handed us the opportunity to transform the political landscape of our State, maybe even the country. As Maddie Edge said, ‘we’re not giving birth here, we’re attempting a resurrection, a miracle.’ You and I have a deadline, not a choice. You can’t quit now.”

Joss laughed at Lana’s stunned expression.

For the moment, Lana could only sigh and down her glass of champagne.

In Eagletown, fireworks and shotguns could be heard going off. Angelo’s phone rang almost the moment the results were announced on TV. It was Perry Karas. “Hey, Ang, what do you think about that?”

“Great man! Just great! What are you guys up to?”

“We’re at my parents’ house — me, Julia, and Lamarcus. Julia’s folks are here too; joining right in with our big Greek-style celebration. Lamarcus has been cracking everyone up. My Grandma Achima is still awake, way past her bedtime, dancing, drinking retsina. I’m worried about how she’s going to feel in the morning! We’re all just having a blast. How about you? How’s Momma Lexi coming along?”

“Momma Lexi is just fine. We’re having a little celebration here, too, with my grandmother and Lexi’s mom. My guess is our party is quieter than yours, but we’re all happy.”

“Hey, man, we owe you and Lexi a bunch for pulling this whole thing off. You’re the first people I thought of when I heard the results. Thank you so much, man.

“You too, Perry. You did a lot, you and Julia. Enjoy the party.”

When they hung up, Lexi said, “I’m glad Julia’s parents were there.”

Angelo’s and Lexi’s phones continued to chime. They finally turned them off and gave contented good-bye hugs to grandmother and mother. When they were alone, they sat quietly on the couch, with the sound muted on the television, holding each other, feeling the baby kick, dampness in their eyes.

After a long silence, Lexi said, “Wow, Ang.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Angelo. “We won this battle.”

“What do you mean this one?”

“I have a feeling there will a few more. Big ones.” He paused and smiled. “But right now, I think we need to cleanse ourselves of this battle . Let’s get in the shower.”

They both laughed through their tears.

The End

Thanks for reading The Names in the Hat. Now, if you haven’t already done it, make sure you vote on Tuesday, November 3. It’s a matter of life and death.

The Names in the Hat is now available on Amazon in both paperback and Kindle formats.

Also by Dick Ault: Dismissal. Erotic encounters during the heyday of the sexual revolution in nineteen-seventies Australia .

Everybody Has a Story

After careers in public education and organizational consulting, I now spend my days writing fiction and creative non-fiction.