My uncles Alexander and Chester were members of “The Greatest Generation.” Al fought in Europe in World War II, including in a unit that liberated Nazi concentration camps in eastern Poland. Chester was wounded in the first months of the Korean War.
He served out his enlistment as a printer with Stars and Stripes army newspaper. When they came home they married extraordinary women. Aunty Ann was a stunning beauty of Italian heritage.
She was a buyer for a high-end retail store in my hometown, and a full partner in Uncle Al’s package store. She and Al had a long and happy marriage. Aunt Patricia was tall and beautiful, a valued office manager at a local factory, and the best cook in the family, Uncle Chester always said.
They were together 35 years at their home in the Berkshires of western Massachusetts, until her death. Neither couple had kids. The reasons were their own; nobody’s business but theirs.
Ann and Pat were not “unhappy cat ladies,” as defined by angry and unhappy Sen. J.D.
Vance, R-Ohio, who is Donald Trump’s vice presidential running mate. Al and Ann owned a friendly hound named Slicker. Chet and Pat had their laid-back sheepdog Ulysses with them all the time.
Happy dog people, not unhappy cat ladies. To hear Vance tell it (“weird,” as Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz said), married couples without children are second-class citizens.
Vance would weaponize the federal tax code to punish childless couples. It smacks of a poll tax or a literacy test for voting. His formula would arbitrarily dismiss contributions to society made by people like my uncles and aunts.
And contribute, they did. Al was a small businessman active in civic matters, including urban redevelopment in his city. Ann set standards for women’s fashion in her role as a buyer.
Her philanthropy included fundraising for the Boys Club. After years as a union printer, Chester became postmaster of his small mountain village. He and Aunt Pat were active there.
They were known for generous giving to the local library. And of course, as childless couples, all of them paid more than their share of local, state and federal taxes. I knew these folks well.
My dad died when I was in high school. Al and Chester stepped up as surrogate fathers. They used their time and treasure to keep me on the right path.
They convinced me to go to college, often reminding me of their regrets for not going. Ann and Pat were marvelous examples of strong, intelligent wives who led full and successful lives without their own children, but were loving aunts to my sister and me. No matter how the Trumpanistas spin it, Vance’s credo is mean and despicable.
The shock, however, is that Trump tapped a man with such bizarre beliefs for the VP slot. Could it be that an overweight, doddering old man, didn’t (couldn’t?) do his homework? After all, these days Trump can’t string together two coherent sentences. It’s quite an accomplishment to get creeping senility and manifest weirdness on the same ticket, but by golly, the MAGA cabal did it.
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