I was 10. My dad stood in front of the bar-
room mirror watching himself as he practiced
his speech. He was running to become the
Republican nominee for Congress from the
1st District in Kansas. Whoever was the
Republican winner in the primaries was go-
ing to be the winner in the general election.
That's the way it was in 1954 anywhere in
Kansas. That's the way it has been virtually
anytime in Kansas. There were five running
as Republicans, three of whom were from
Topeka, the largest city in the district. My dad
was one them. I and four my friends, plus my
dog, Cinder, formed the "Hawks for Congress"
club. We went up and down 8th Street nail-
ing posters on telephone poles. I sat in the
back seat of one of the cars in a caravan that
traveled through northeastern Kansas small
towns where I would throw "Hawks for
Congress" cards through the open window.
Dad's problem was there were two too
many candidates from Topeka, breaking
up the city's vote. The night of the election,
a very large room in North Topeka was rented.
Early in the evening, it was packed with sup-
porters and well-wishers. It was a tight race.
Dad was in second place, narrowly out of
first. The candidate in first was from a
county up north. The candidates in third
and fourth place were both from Topeka.
By around 10 p.m. all the votes had been
counted. If all the votes from the candidates
from Topeka were added together, they
clearly outnumbered the votes received
by the candidate from the county up north.
But, of course, that couldn't happen, so Dad
narrowly lost the nomination. I learned a
lot about politics that evening, even though
I was only 10. I learned that a very large room
that had been packed for almost three hours could
be emptied out completely in five minutes or
less. And I learned that almost is not good
enough.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks