politics

All the talk of the coming presidential election has brought me back memories from 2004. During that election year, Marnie declared that should was going to make a concerted effort to follow the race and to stay more informed about current events; I think all the time she was spending at in-the-middle-of-nowhere field camps away from the news was making her feel a bit uninformed. But Marnie was serious about it, listening to NPR, reading the paper; she even went to the length of hosting 2 presidential debate parties at her house (she was renting a place in Spenard at the time with a great backyard, complete with a horseshoe throwing setup). For those parties she invited a bunch of friends over to watch the debate on television and made us all dinner (pasta the first time, and even more delicious beef stroganoff the next time).

That same fall, she and I took a trip to Delta Junction to visit Ellie and Jeff. On the drive up, we were stopped by some road construction along the Glenn Highway near the Matanuska Glacier. The car stopped in front of us was a Subaru station wagon with a “W04” sticker on the back windshield. Of course, Marnie and I, not being big fans of George W., had to snicker that the “W” was for “Wacko,” and wondered how the people who put that sticker on the car could not realize this fact. The road worker with the stop sign said it was going to be awhile, so we shut off the engine and let the dogs (2 at the time, Palomo and Kashu) out to run around. It was a beautiful fall evening just before dark, the trees all had yellow leaves and the glacier glowed in the distance. We still had at least four more hours of driving ahead of us to get to Delta Junction.

When the road was finally clear, we and the other cars started our engines to go, but not the “W04” Subaru in front of us. The cars behind us pulled out and passed around, but Marnie waited. When it became clear that their car was not going to start, we walked over and asked if they needed some help. In the car was a women and her elderly mother, and they had managed to keep their sense of humor despite their automobile frustrations; they were real nice folks. Their engine would crank, but not turn-over, so it was clear the problem was bigger than a dead battery. Marnie let them use her cell phone to call for help. We then stuck around for another half hour until her son arrived in a pickup truck full of tools. We said good-bye and headed up the road. Marnie joked that they were real nice people for George Bush supporters.

At the time that encounter did not strike me, of course Marnie did not simply pull around that car even though we still had a long trip ahead of us and maybe their car problem was just karma coming to call for their politics. But that’s not the way she was, of course Marnie stopped. Now though, since I have turn to memories to recall how Marnie was, she impresses me even more, and I miss her. (Dan Rizzolo)

Time Moves On, But Her Memory Will Always Keep

"Time passes slowly up here in the daylight,
We stare straight ahead and try so hard to stay right,
Like the red rose of summer that blooms in the day,
Time passes slowly and fades away."
-Bob Dylan

Honor Marnie's Memory

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