Dawn of the Unthinkable (26 page)

“Hon, I know you’re all about this, but we
live in a small world of very stable people. Are you sure you want
to throw your lot in with Communists and Socialists? I’m kind of
worried that if word about this gets out, we’re not going to be
invited many places anymore.” There was apprehension in her voice.
She worried about what her friends and family would think of her
husband coming up with an idea like this and trying to get it going
with a bunch of third world, itinerant farm workers. She understood
that Palma’s union apparently had more than that in it, and she had
a great respect for all kinds of workers and races, but she also
knew enough to realize that pipe dreams rarely saw the light of
day. Her husband was a good man, but a bit of a dreamer, and good
men rarely made it to the top. They usually got stomped on by the
ruthless ones, and that made her nervous. She preferred to live her
life out of the spotlight, enjoying her family. But when he got an
idea in his head, it was like trying to stop a freight train, and
this idea had already left the station.

She wondered what she would say if reporters
ended up calling her house and asking, “Is your husband the one
that wants to use a near-defunct social union to end our economy as
we know it? Are you or he communists?” She would be mortified to be
drawn into something like that. She didn’t follow politics or
current events much and didn’t want to have that lack of knowledge
exposed to the general public. She began to hope that Palma’s union
would not do anything with the idea and that it would fade away.
That wasn’t to be, though.

She was at home with him when he got a
conference call from Palma and Cunningham. Palma was excited; he
said the union members had voted unanimously to support the idea
and were waiting for further instructions. Palma said they would
have to move fast to come up with an implementation plan before
word leaked out to the press and the wrong spin got put on it. He
said they should meet right away, and Cunningham offered a
conference room down at Temple. They agreed on a time, and they all
hung up.

Ryan looked at Kathy and said, “Oh, my God.”
He couldn’t believe it. He was going to be involved in a
large-scale project to add an Amendment to the US Constitution! He
didn’t know if ordinary guys like him could do that, but he was the
author of something considered worthy of a try. He knew that the
people who had tried to add an Amendment making flag-burning a
crime had been rebuffed time and again because lawmakers disliked
adding anything to the Constitution, considering it to be a near
perfect document as it was. He realized he knew nothing about the
political process that went into this. He was going to be relying
on Cunningham for much of the guidance necessary to take something
like this through to fruition.

He stopped to reflect on whether he really
wanted to move ahead with this or not. He could tell Cunningham to
say that
he
had written the paper; perhaps it would have
more creditability if a professor authored it. Kathy was the
practical one and had already expressed some concerns to him about
her uneasiness about moving into the public spotlight; maybe he
should take a better look at his desire to change the world and
decide whether this type of life would really suit him.

He knew what happened to people who were
suddenly transformed by their fifteen minutes of fame. Usually,
some news, magazine, or show would revisit them about five years
after their moment in the sun, and often these people were bitter,
broke, and sorry they were ever thrust into the limelight. Whatever
they had accomplished had usually been forgotten or usurped by
someone more famous, as non-famous people did not seem to be
allowed to stay that way by the qualification of one event. They
had to pay their dues like other famous people did, as it was a
small group of people that only grudgingly and suspiciously
admitted new members. Politicians, as he guessed he was about to
become, were rarely remembered by the masses unless they were
president, or maybe by the hometown folks if they really brought
home the pork. He couldn’t really see himself as a politician,
either, even though what he dreamed up was a political and economic
system. But what was he going to do when the real heavyweights of
academia and politics had at him or the other members of his group?
He thought about Cunningham and realized that he was probably not
the type of guy someone with a degree from Harvard was going to
take seriously. And Palma, charismatic and good looking as he was,
was Hispanic, which did not bother Ryan, but would probably not
play well in middle-class America.

He had looked into what types of people the
original framers of the Constitution had been. They were possibly
some of the finest legal minds ever assembled. They met in
Philadelphia during a brutally hot summer and literally locked
themselves in the old Pennsylvania State House for four months and
pieced together a totally new form of government. They had dirt
spread on the cobblestones around the building, so even the sounds
of hoof beats wouldn’t distract them. They weren’t supposed to do
away with the Confederacy their states were in, just rewrite some
of the provisions that were causing a problem, such as lack of a
central defense and currency. Instead, under the reluctant
leadership of a tired George Washington, they threw out the old
method and created something new. James Madison, a brilliant man
but a diminutive and shy public speaker, wrote much of the new
document, and used Robert Randolph, a powerful orator, to sell the
rest of the delegates. Benjamin Franklin, suffering from severe
gout, could barely stand or talk but courageously attended almost
all of the meetings, feeling he represented the common man.
Alexander Hamilton proposed what he thought to be a good method, a
new type of monarchy, with George Washington (who wanted no part of
it) as the first King. When the delegates gave him a
less-than-rousing support of this idea, Hamilton left in a huff,
only to return weeks later, full of eloquent support for the idea
put forth by Madison.

Those brilliant men developed a system with
more freedom and rights than any other. Could he and his small
group duplicate this feat? He looked at the difference between what
happened then and what they were trying to do now. He, Cunningham,
and Palma were first trying to get the idea heard and considered.
He had tried to do that, but no one had listened. So now they were
trying to get a grass roots campaign together through Palma’s union
to force legislators to consider it. Cunningham was going to figure
out a strategy to keep it from being killed in some committee. And
he himself was going to be the spokesman, which was fitting because
he was the author. He didn’t think that they had the same
qualifications as the framers of the Constitution, but they did
share the same passion to try to create something better, something
that would improve people’s lives.

He decided there was no turning back He was
going to see this through.

Winter 1993

Wayne Cunningham had a dilemma. As an
academic, he had the privilege of working with some of the most
brilliant minds in politics, sociology, and market; all people they
would need on their side to get the movement started. However,
people in academia did not usually wander into politics, preferring
to lob commentary from the sidelines. He knew that they could use
the support of these other scholars, but he didn’t dare risk it
until he had a firmer plan of how they were going to approach
it.

He also knew that he had to make the
decision quickly as they now had the time constraint of the idea
being floated with the Wobblies, and it probably would not be long
before the idea cropped up in some newspaper as a human-interest
story. He realized there would be a short honeymoon period while
people entertained and amused themselves with the idea before they
realized it was serious. He wondered about the Wobblies’ ability to
organize into an effective lobbying organization. He knew they
lacked money, which inevitably carried the most clout in Congress.
But sometimes, sheer numbers of voters could win out, and a grass
roots, word-of-mouth campaign could do surprising things. Former
professional wrestler Jesse Ventura had been elected Governor of
Minnesota in such a manner because if enough registered voters
could be convinced to support you, then you could overcome a lack
of funding. In this case, what they were trying to do would need a
powerful sponsor in Congress. The trick was which senator to
approach.

He had already decided on a senator instead
of a congressman. While there were many fine congressman, their
short terms left them almost continually campaigning, and they
usually did not have the stature to propose something this
outlandish. As he had taught about government but had never really
tried to interact with it on this scale before, he realized he
needed some insider’s advice, and he had access to one of the
ultimate insiders. He decided it was time to consult his
mentor.

The man was a legend, a leader in his field
who had since retired. He was Cunningham’s uncle through marriage,
and they had always had a close relationship. In fact, the legend
had told Cunningham that if he ever wanted to follow in his
footsteps, he would use his considerable influence to help him
along. He did not want to ride on coattails, so he had chosen his
own path. But he still kept in touch with the busy man as schedules
and family events allowed. Though now that he had retired, it was
easier to get in touch with him.

Cunningham called his aunt and exchanged
pleasantries. His mother and her sister had been close until his
mother’s passing several years ago. His aunt knew that he would
want to speak to her husband and went to get him. His health wasn’t
what it used to be, and it took him a long time to come on the
phone. When he did, he was delighted to hear from his nephew. He
had given so much to his country that the guilt of sometimes
ignoring family ate at him. He decided to devote the rest of his
years to re-establishing some ties, and he had always enjoyed
Cunningham’s restive mind.

“Well, Wayne, to what do I owe this
pleasure?” He was always courtly, even though his own
accomplishments could have raised arrogance in a lesser man.

“Well, Uncle, I’ve stumbled across an idea I
want to run by you. It’s kind of in your field”.

“Oh? I hope it doesn’t require much travel.
I’m not as ambulatory as I was.”

“No, no, I’ll come see you. Just need your
opinion is all,” said Cunningham. “Would tomorrow be okay?” he
asked hopefully.

“Hmm, in a hurry, eh?” he chuckled. “Let me
check with the boss,” he said, and called to his wife to check his
schedule. Since his retirement he had numerous speaking requests
and honorariums to attend, but turned many down, preferring to
putter around the house. So it turned out he did have time the next
day, and they agreed on a time. That left the meeting with Ryan and
Palma to schedule.

He met them in a conference room at Temple.
Palma had the most to report, saying, “The word is spreading
rapidly, and the reaction, after initial scepticism, is favorable.
We agreed to start a voter registration drive within the Wobblies
and to sign up unregistered members of their families. The total
tally would be a quarter of a million votes if all family members
were to sign. I think this will be a large enough amount to make
any candidate take notice, and if the Wobblies are to be able to
influence other votes, then they would certainly be a force to be
reckoned with. I’ve even gained a little more traction in the
union, managing to convince some of the early hold-outs. We’re
happy and proud to play such an integral part of this idea. My
union members have the sheer human firepower and energy that can
make ideas reality.”

Palma smiled and shook his head. “Man, this
is exciting! I keep thinking back to the moment when I stared down
that blowhard in New Mexico; that was a rush. It felt good to be
able to convince people to go with a radical idea and to live up to
the heritage of the Wobblies that I believe in. I kind of felt what
Washington and the others who signed the declaration must of have
felt like.”

He also reported that his appearance had
been covered in a local newspaper, which was more interested in the
notion of a semi-celebrity coming to town than what he had to say.
The article did mention that he had come with a plan for a
“caste-less” society, which they were not sure they understood. But
they were happy to have him come and noted that he had sprung for a
keg of beer, which got him elevated to near sainthood in the dusty
town.

So now they had their first media coverage.
Although small, it gave them an idea of how things were going to be
distorted or just plain misreported. They had to get their roles
together soon as to who was going to be saying what. They looked to
Cunningham to start them off as he was the overall strategist.

Cunningham smiled at the duo. “Well, Luis,
it looks like you have us off to a good start. If you can deliver
even half the votes and muscle you think you can, that should give
us the leverage we need to get in some senator's door. That’s half
the battle—making it past the gatekeepers. Usually only the rich
and famous get in. But if we get the right spin on this and walk in
with a quarter of a million votes, they’ll listen to us even if we
don’t have bus fare. But another important item here is deciding
which one to approach. The value of the idea will diminish if it is
turned down by one or more of them. I’m going to my ace in the hole
to make sure that doesn’t happen,” he said with a mysterious
smile.

“Who is that?” Ryan asked.

“All in good time, my friend, all in good
time,” Cunningham said.