I went to vote today, in person absentee because I'll be knocking on doors in VA on election day. Washington DC, with our 3 , is hardly in doubt, but still I couldn't miss it.
After about 15 minutes of waiting in line I got up to the desk and gave my form. "James Forman," said the clerk reading my paper. Any relation to "Dr. James Forman?" Um . . . "do you mean a medical doctor," I asked, not wanting to be presumptuous. "No, the civil rights leader," he responded. After I told him that was my dad he broke into a big smile and told me that they had worked together for DC statehood. Then he went back to his computer and plugged my name in. "Do you live on Harvard Street," he asked. I paused. That was where my dad had lived, and it never occured to me that he might still be in their database. My heart held for a second as I heard my dad's old address, the apt I had been to so many times. I finally responded, "no, that's where my dad lived." He hesistated when I said "lived," and I realized that he must not have known that my dad died a few years ago. When I told him, he shook his head and said he was sorry. I started to choke up, and trying to hold it together, I told him "I'm sorry too, he would have given anything to be standing next to me right now getting ready to vote in this election." He looked me in the eye and said, "but you are voting for him."
Then I got home and saw this video sent by my friend Yodit, and it made me think of my dad, and others like him around the country:
So many stories like this. Share yours. Love, James