Ben Muller is a University of Iowa student. -promoted by desmoinesdem

Do you know why Republicans aren’t desperately jumping ship right now? Because they’re getting everything they wanted from Donald Trump. Not just the rich ones; his base too. So what if they lose their coal jobs? They were going to lose them anyway.

They voted for him because they knew it would make us miserable. Watching us squirm is worth more to them than any miracle a president can achieve in eight years, and can you really blame them? Think about how so many of us perceive these people. We’re as hateful as they are; we just happen to have the advantage of being a little more diverse, and thus we tend to think a little more globally.

It’s hardly unreasonable to suggest that the burden of taking the first step, being the bigger person, rests with those of us who concede we will never truly understand different groups of people if our opinions about those groups are divorced from cultural relativism.

Roseanne Barr’s racist tweet and the cancellation of her show are a macro example of what is happening in our everyday lives, folks feeling empowered to share openly what they used to hide: bigotry. After a visit from someone I have known for forty or so years, I was surprised how he had suddenly embraced right wing talking points.

A personal reflection by Jon Muller. -promoted by desmoinesdem

Those who read my posts have come to expect conclusions based on data, some level of quantification of a process, phenomenon, or proposal. There are plenty of data with respect to abortion that might inform our views, but this is simply my spiritual and moral view with respect to two claims.

1) Choosing to terminate a pregnancy is not a moral question.

2) The right of a woman to have an abortion should not be infringed.

Alexandra Rucinski is a patient advocate for Planned Parenthood and an activist for sex education and reproductive rights. Iowa’s near-total abortion ban inspired her to write this commentary. -promoted by desmoinesdem

I vividly remember the only sex-ed class I ever took in high school. A woman who worked for Planned Parenthood came to teach our class. I remember eyeing her with distrust as she talked about things absolutely forbidden to me. I didn’t listen because I felt like I wasn’t supposed to listen.

A personal commentary by Matt Chapman to coincide with the “Day on the Hill” for our state’s National Alliance on Mental Illness chapter. NAMI Iowa’s “mission is to raise public awareness and concern about mental illness, to foster research, to improve treatment and to upgrade the system of care for the people of Iowa.” -promoted by desmoinesdem

In the last few years I have found myself politically active and seem to be trying to make up for years of not having the right to vote and taking it for granted when I did participate. I would like to share where my focus is and relate how I came to feel so intensely about these issues. You never know when you may find your voice, and if it took me until my 50s, so be it.

Prominent Iowa Republican Jamie Johnson resigned yesterday as leader of the Department of Homeland Security’s Center for Faith-Based & Neighborhood Partnerships, after CNN exposed a pattern of racist statements and “inflammatory remarks about Islam” between 2008 and 2016.

Johnson told CNN his past comments “do not represent my views personally or professionally”; “Having witnessed leaders from the entire faith spectrum work to empower their communities I now see things much differently.”

Whatever Johnson believes today, his generalizations about lazy, promiscuous, drug-using African Americans and Muslims who “want to cut our heads off” didn’t attract any special notice, let alone condemnation, in Iowa GOP circles. Republican activists elected the reverend to serve multiple terms on the party’s State Central Committee. Presidential candidates also sought Johnson’s support. He worked for Rick Santorum before the 2012 caucuses and for Rick Perry and Donald Trump at various times during the 2016 election cycle.

As a Jew, I want to express my utmost contempt for how Johnson praised American Jewish culture as a rhetorical device while denigrating other minority groups.

I was young and naive. Isn’t that how these narratives are supposed to start?

Kelly Roberts is a part-time writer/blogger, full-time Human Resources consultant, and newly minted political activist. Pictured above: her grandfather, Charles Moel (Pompoo, to her) -promoted by desmoinesdem

Once upon a time, during the dark, discombobulating night of a medical crisis, my family encountered Medicaid.

The author is a longtime personal friend. I can confirm this post accurately conveys what happened to her family. -promoted by desmoinesdem

I never worried about pre-existing conditions before the fall of 2008. We were young, healthy, and gainfully employed with employer-provided health insurance. What was there to worry about? It’s a little painful to admit how self-centered and over-confident I was, but there it is. Just keep a job with insurance or be sure to make COBRA payments and there was no problem. At the time, my husband was an engineer in working as a VP in manufacturing, and I owned two stores. Oh to be young, financially secure, and over-confident!

Then one day in September, I stopped to fill a prescription for my daughter’s eye drops and the pharmacist told me my insurance had been cancelled.

Taylor Soule is a blogger, editor and nonprofit communicator. You can follow her on Twitter @TaylorOSoule. -promoted by desmoinesdem

After reading The Washington Post’s profile of Mike Pence’s wife, Karen, I struggled to focus my reaction to his refusal to eat alone with women outside his marriage. Sure, it astounded me that a man could be successful — Vice President of the United States — despite excluding women in such a profound, sweeping way. But at its core, I found myself remembering a dizzying swirl of moments and microaggressions, each rooted in the notion that women are inherently distractions — not people, let alone professionals.

Freedom to chase any story that captures my attention is the best part of running this website. A strong sense of purpose carries me through the most time-consuming projects. But not all work that seems worthwhile is fun. Classic example: I didn’t enjoy communicating with the white nationalist leader who bankrolled racist robocalls to promote Donald Trump shortly before the Iowa caucuses.

Continuing a tradition I started last year, here are the Bleeding Heartland posts from 2016 that have a special place in my heart. Not all of them addressed important Iowa political news, but all were a joy to write.

For the first time last year, I put some thought into what posts had consumed the greatest amount of my energy. I realized that some of those deep dives were among my most satisfying writing projects. That new awareness informed my editorial choices in good and bad ways. Unfortunately, some election-related stories I would have covered in previous cycles didn’t get written in 2016, because I was immersed in other topics. On the plus side, those rabbit holes led to work I’m proud to have published.

Assembling this post was more challenging than last year’s version. Several pieces that would have been among my most labor-intensive in another year didn’t make the cut. A couple of posts that might have made the top ten were not ready to go before the holidays. Maybe they will end up in a future collection of seventeen posts I worked hardest on in 2017.

Like many politically active teenagers, I was excited to be old enough to vote for the first time, in 1988. I’d volunteered and caucused for Paul Simon earlier in the year, but I had no trouble coming around to support our party’s nominee, Michael Dukakis. I was fortunate to attend part of the Democratic National Convention in Atlanta, where most people were confident we were going to win back the White House. By the time I filled out my absentee ballot in the fall, I was worried, because a disastrous debate moment and a brutal attack ad from George H.W. Bush’s campaign had turned things around.

Indeed, Dukakis was wiped out, gaining 7 million fewer votes and losing the electoral college 426 to 111.

As a college student on the east coast for most of Bush’s presidency, I felt proud that Iowa had been among the ten states to reject him. In fact, my favorite comeback to rude comments about “flyover country” was, “As least we voted for Dukakis.” It was more than people from New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Florida, Illinois, or even California could say.

This week I looked up the Iowa returns from 1988 and realized that Dukakis carried this state much more convincingly than I remembered: 670,557 votes to 545,355 (54.7 percent to 44.5 percent). Dukakis outpolled Bush here by roughly as large a margin as Donald Trump’s advantage over Hillary Clinton this week.

When I looked at the county map of results, I was stunned to see that Dukakis carried 75 of Iowa’s 99 counties. Bush carried only 24.

Fifteen years later, images of the burning and collapsing World Trade Center towers are fresh in the minds of just about everyone old enough to remember 9/11. All topics are welcome in this thread, including any reflections on that horrific day.

Many people casually refer to “3,000 Americans” killed on 9/11, but hundreds of the victims were from other countries. Last year, the Brilliant Maps website posted a map created by reddit user thepenaltytick, showing all countries that lost at least one citizen. Most of the globe is covered.

The United Kingdom lost 67 citizens (some tourists, others working in the U.S.), making 9/11 the deadliest terror attack in that country’s history.

I was living in London fifteen years ago. Having watched the BBC’s uneventful news over lunch, I turned off the tv to get back to work on my dissertation. Around 2:00 pm, which would have been 9:00 am in New York, someone called and told me to turn the tv back on. I was glued to the BBC for the rest of the day and night. Watching the people trapped on the roof of the World Trade Center, I couldn’t understand why none of the helicopters could get close enough to rescue them before the towers collapsed. I could not believe a plane was able to crash into the Pentagon.

In Britain, as in the U.S., there was a tremendous public outpouring of grief after the attacks. British people are normally reserved with strangers, but many approached me after hearing my American accent in a shop or a train station, just to say how very sorry they were about what had happened in my country. UPDATE: Added below photos a reader sent, showing piles of flowers and gifts and notes left outside the U.S. embassy in London in September 2001.

I didn’t lose any friends on 9/11, and only one of my acquaintances lost a loved one that day; his father was on one of the planes that hit the towers. Even without experiencing a personal bereavement, I felt enraged, especially when reading newspaper profiles of the victims. During the Jewish high holidays in late September 2001, the last thing I felt like doing was reflecting on the past and forgiving wrongs from the past year. At that time, I heard a BBC radio segment featuring the UK’s Chief Rabbi, David Sacks. He reminded listeners that the Bible (he meant the Hebrew Scriptures or “Old Testament”) tells us once to love our neighbors, but tells us approximately 30 times to love the stranger. That’s because it is easier to love our neighbor, who is probably a lot like ourselves, than it is to love a stranger. It’s the only quote I remember from what must have been dozens of radio commentaries by Sacks I heard during my years abroad.

This week, Green Party presidential candidate Jill Stein called for a new investigation of the 9/11 events. Stein is headlining a rally at the state capitol in Des Moines today from 3 pm to 5:30. To any readers who attend: feel free to write about the speakers or crowd atmosphere in a comment or a guest post for Bleeding Heartland later. MSNBC’s Alex Seitz-Wald analyzed Stein’s campaign strategy a few weeks ago, arguing she “seems unsure how to speak to anyone this side of Noam Chomsky” and has “misread” the Bernie Sanders playbook while attempting to appeal to Sanders supporters.

Big news on Friday: in a move without precedent, the Obama administration ordered that construction of the Dakota Access (Bakken) pipeline “will not go forward at this time” on Army Corps land bordering or under a North Dakota lake on Standing Rock Sioux tribal land. Gavin Aronsen wrote up the story for Iowa Informer. The federal action will not affect Bakken pipeline construction in Iowa. Though the project will probably be completed in all four states eventually, James MacPherson reported for the Associated Press that the government’s intervention “may forever change the way all energy infrastructure projects [affecting tribal land] are reviewed in the future.”

What’s on your mind this weekend, Bleeding Heartland readers? This is an open thread: all topics welcome.

Lauren Whitehead’s post on political activism while parenting got me thinking about my Iowa caucus experiences as a parent of young children. I did a lot of phone banking from home while kids were napping or my husband was watching them. I never brought my kids along to knock doors, but one of my sons enjoyed coming with me in the car to deliver yard signs.

We brought our baby to the 2004 precinct caucus. A good sling or other comfortable baby carrier makes this very manageable, and I would do it again with no hesitation. Caveat: that baby was both extroverted and a night owl. A baby who needs to go to bed early or gets overwhelmed by crowds would do better at home with a baby-sitter.

We brought a toddler and a preschooler to our 2008 caucus, which was much more challenging. Mr. desmoinesdem did most of the kid-wrangling while I was doing precinct captain duties. The caucus can easily take more than an hour, even if you don’t stay for the platform resolutions. The rooms tend to be crowded, leaving no place for a little one to run around. The atmosphere can be overstimulating or too stuffy for young children. Early evening is often not the best time for kids’ behavior anyway. If I could do it over, I would arrange for a nice babysitter who wasn’t interested in politics to watch my kids on caucus night.

I’m 100 percent for bringing older kids to the caucus. It’s a fantastic way for them to learn about the process.

After the 2010 elections, I wrote a post on explaining political disagreements and election outcomes to young children. I’m interested to hear how other parents have handled similar conversations.

On December 31, 1999, Boris Yeltsin resigned the Russian presidency six months before the end of his term, making Prime Minister Vladimir Putin acting president and forcing an early presidential election. I was in graduate school, working on a dissertation about corporate and state power over the Russian media during the post-Soviet period. I had recently spent eight weeks in Moscow reporting on the parliamentary election campaign for my former full-time employer, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty. I didn’t realize those would be the last Russian elections in which the outcome was not a foregone conclusion.

As soon as I heard Yeltsin had stepped down, I knew I would be returning to Moscow sooner than planned to help cover the presidential campaign for RFE/RL. I didn’t realize that someday I would look back on the sequence of events from Putin becoming prime minister in August 1999 to his first presidential election as the beginning of the end for what was supposed to be my life’s work.

I continued to freelance for RFE/RL for five more years, occasionally writing up daily news and producing in-depth reports on Russia’s 2003 parliamentary elections and 2004 presidential race. But over time, most of my favorite beats became irrelevant or much less interesting. The way Putin’s rise to power affected me can’t compare to the consequences for 100 million plus Russian citizens and many people in countries neighboring the Russian Federation. The fact remains: had Yeltsin chosen a different kind of successor, I probably would not have immersed myself in Iowa politics later.

Drew Miller didn’t know any of this when he invited me to start writing for Bleeding Heartland’s front page in early 2007. We’d never met in person or talked offline. Soon after creating this website with Chris Woods, Drew landed a new job that was incompatible with blogging. He knew “desmoinesdem” only as one of the earliest registered users at Bleeding Heartland and a regular commenter at other Iowa sites. I hadn’t put much thought into my alter ego’s name; desmoinesdem was just a handle for posting at American political blogs, beginning in 2003 when I was still publishing regularly about Russia under my own byline.

I have become attached to Bleeding Heartland as a vehicle for digging into the same topics I loved covering in Russia during the 1990s: campaigns and elections, legislative work, corporate influence over public policy, and media bias.

Thank you to everyone who has in any way supported my ongoing effort to reinvent myself as a writer.

While working on another piece about Iowa politics highlights from the year, I decided to start a new Bleeding Heartland tradition. Writing is a labor of love for me, as for many bloggers, but let’s face it: not all posts are equally lovable.

The most important political events can be frustrating or maddening to write up, especially when there is so much ground to cover.

Any blogger will confirm that posts attracting the most readers are not necessarily the author’s favorites. The highest-traffic Bleeding Heartland post of 2015–in fact, the highest-traffic post in this blog’s history–was just another detailed account of a message-testing opinion poll, like many that came before. Word to the wise: if you want a link from the Drudge Report, it helps to type up a bunch of negative statements about Hillary Clinton.

Sometimes, committing to a topic leads to a long, hard slog. I spent more time on this critique of political coverage at the Des Moines Register than on any other piece of writing I’ve done in the last decade. But honestly, the task was more depressing than enjoyable.

Other pieces were pure pleasure. Follow me after the jump for my top fifteen from 2015.

What’s on your mind this long weekend, Bleeding Heartland readers? This is an open thread: all topics welcome.

Thanksgiving has been a national holiday on the last Thursday in November since 1869. I didn’t know that President Franklin Delano Roosevelt caused an uproar when he tried to move the date a week early in 1939, hoping to stimulate the economy.

For many people, Thanksgiving is inextricably linked to certain food traditions. One of them is leftovers the day after the feast. Please share your own favorite recipes for leftovers in the comments. Des Moines restauranteur George Formaro offered three of his favorite uses for extra turkey here. Most years I make soup on the day after Thanksgiving. Here are four ideas, two of which would work for vegetarians as well as for omnivores. We had a smaller gathering than usual yesterday, so I baked chicken rather than a turkey. I made curried butternut squash soup early in the day; this recipe also works well with canned pumpkin. I didn’t make cranberry sauce this year, but when I do, I like to mix the leftover sauce with apples for a pie a day or two later.

Matt Viser published a fantastic piece in the Boston Globe this week: “Michael Dukakis would very much like your turkey carcass.” Turns out the former Massachusetts governor and Democratic nominee for president in 1988 “collects Thanksgiving turkey carcasses to make soup for his extended family for the year to come.” I enclosed excerpts from Viser’s piece below, but do click through to read the whole thing. The Dukakis family recipe for turkey soup is simple and easy to adapt to personal tastes.

Ideally, everyone could have a restful and enjoyable Thanksgiving, but the holiday season brings extra stress to many. Some tips for battling anxiety or depression this time of year are here and here. The first holiday season after a major bereavement can be particularly difficult for mourners; Compassion Books has hundreds of resources for people coping with “serious illness, death and dying, grief, bereavement, and losses of all kinds, including suicide, trauma, sudden loss, and violence.” A separate section inclues age-appropriate books for children who have lost a parent, sibling, grandparent, or even a treasured family pet. Carol Staudacher’s book of short meditations, A Time to Grieve, has been a source of comfort to me at difficult times. Whether or not you are religious, Harold Kushner’s verse by verse analysis of the 23rd Psalm is fascinating and provides some helpful perspectives on grieving.

I used to loathe the end of January. Around that time, anxiety-ridden managers would start suggesting that I help organize the Black History Month activities for February. Bless their hearts. They either genuinely felt our staff needed to be more conscious of the contributions African Americans made to society, or somewhere in their manager handbook, this was mentioned in the cultural sensitivity part.

Growing up, I was always slated to read the “I Have A Dream,” speech in class or chosen to explain how the Underground Railroad operated without physical tracks. Back in 1st grade, when our progressive music teacher wanted us to learn about soulful pop music, she wrote a play and cast me as Michael Jackrabbit, the moonwalking bunny with a culturally ambiguous face.

All of this was a version of tokenism that I had become accustomed to before I even knew tokenism was a thing. Tokenism is race and gender agnostic. No one is safe. Consider the exemplary woman who has broken into the good ‘ole boys club of corporate America, or the lone gay man at a job  brimming with tough guys and their laughable displays of machismo, or in my case, the prototypical black face in nearly every social group to which I’ve belonged. Anyone can become a victim of tokenism, but it will always befall the Only One in the Room, a phrase that I’ve borrowed from a recent NPR article. The article, “On Wyatt Cenac, Key & Peele, And Being The Only One In the Room,” describes situations wherein there is only one minority in a group, otherwise known as the last 20 years of my life. Life is hard for the token, and it’s hard for the Only One. When you are both at once, it feels like playing a game of chess while balancing on a high wire.

Fred Phelps, the founder of the Westboro Baptist Church, has reportedly died at the age of 84. I have nothing profound to say about his passing. Anyone who made it his life’s work to hold “God Hates Fags” signs at funerals is a sad commentary on his upbringing and the failures of our country’s mental health system.

Five years ago this spring and summer, the Phelps crowd came to central Iowa to protest the arrival of marriage equality and picket Jewish sites around town. The Jewish community chose not to engage with them. I wholeheartedly agreed with that decision, because the Westboro Baptist Church does not represent a social movement. They are basically a family cult of mentally ill people. I believe that they thrive on the negative attention they receive from those offended by their message. Being denounced on social media or confronted by a counter-protest is likely more gratifying than having no one react to their bigotry.  

I urge people who believe in tolerance to ignore everything the Westboro Baptist Church leaders say and do from now on. Focus your outrage on something more constructive.

Any relevant thoughts are welcome in this thread. I’ve enclosed below comments from State Senator Matt McCoy, who credited Phelps with inadvertently helping the gay rights movement.

P.S.- I am aware that it’s ironic for me to write about a topic I would rather see ignored.  

What’s on your mind this weekend? In the spirit of past Mother’s Day diaries at this site, I’ve posted some mother-related links after the jump. I also added my thoughts on the latest TIME magazine cover, a sexualized depiction of a three-year-old breastfeeding next to a provocative “Are You Mom Enough?” tag line.

I try to ignore the bogus controversies and fake outrage that dominate cable television news coverage, but the big to-do over Hilary Rosen saying Ann Romney “never worked a day in her life” is on my mind this weekend.

I must be the last Iowa blogger to weigh in on Stephen Bloom’s “Observations From 20 Years of Iowa Life” for The Atlantic.

Election years provide many “teachable moments” for children. In 2006 my three-year-old loved coming with me to deliver yard signs. We talked about how some people like to tell everyone in the neighborhood who they are voting for, while other people like to keep that a secret. For weeks he would comment on yard signs as we drove around town. “Mommy, that person is also voting for Chet Culver!”

In 2008 both of our kids experienced the unbearable stuffiness of our precinct caucus, and while they didn’t know the campaign issues, they did understand that people standing in different corners were supporting different candidates. They also understood the goal of getting as many people as possible to stand in your group. Many of my neighbors also brought children to the caucus, and I vividly remember one family whose seven-year-old daughter wore a Hillary button and nine-year-old son wore an Obama sticker even as their mom and dad caucused for Biden and Dodd (then Edwards after realignment).

During the 2008 general election campaign, my five-year-old son got a real-world dose of pluralism when he asked his favorite baby-sitter who she was voting for, and she answered McCain. I still laugh when I remember his follow-up question: “But who are you voting for for president?” It didn’t take him long to understand that yes, Mommy and Daddy were still voting for Barack Obama, but his baby-sitter was voting for John McCain.

I’ve decided to start a diary series about the political lessons my kids learn during this year’s campaign. My first big teaching opportunity of the 2010 election happened a few weeks ago…  

A few weeks ago, a long-lost elementary school classmate scanned our entire sixth-grade yearbook from May 1981 and posted the contents on Facebook. In addition to the usual goofy photos, we all contributed brief notes for our “20th reunion,” describing our lives as we imagined they would be in 2001.

The reunion notes were good for a lot of laughs. Then, like the geek I always have been, I decided to take a closer look at how my sixth-grade classmates envisioned our futures. What I found is after the jump.

A note on demographics: this sample of 76 children is in no way representative of American eleven- and twelve-year-olds in 1981. The three classrooms of sixth-graders at my school included 73 Caucasians, 2 Asians and one African-American. We lived in middle-class or upper middle-class neighborhoods in the Des Moines suburbs. Almost everyone was Christian; mostly Protestant, I think, with more mainline Protestants than evangelicals. There were also quite a few Catholics and four Jews.

Miep Gies, the last surviving protector of Anne Frank’s family, died last week at the age of 100. During the Nazi occupation of Holland, Gies risked her life on a daily basis to keep the Franks and other Jews safe and fed. She also gave Anne books of blank paper to write on, and retrieved and preserved Anne’s diary after the Franks were arrested.

Reading accounts of Gies’ life, I was struck by the way she described her decision to help conceal Dutch Jews: “I simply had no choice.” “I was only willing to do what was asked of me and what seemed necessary at the time.” (continues after the jump)

That’s me trying to explain the Star Wars storyline to my first-grader, who’s never seen the movies but is curious about them.

He’s heard other kids talking about Star Wars at school, so he checked out a book from the library introducing the series to beginner readers. He’s mostly interested in light sabers and Yoda levitating objects, but he has a lot of questions, and I don’t always know how to answer them.

Pope John Paul II visited Iowa 30 years ago today. Iowa Public Television’s Iowa Journal broadcast a retrospective on the event last week, and you can read the transcripts here and here.

Mike Kilen’s feature for the Des Moines Register includes anecdotes from some of the estimated 340,000 people who came to see the Pope at Living History Farms in Urbandale. (Even if you believe the lower crowd estimates of 100,000 or so, that’s still the largest public gathering in Iowa history.)

The momentous event sprang from a handwritten request by Truro farmer Joe Hays.

He was watching television and learned of the pope’s visit to America. Pope John Paul II was only 59 then – a new, youthful voice, a robust hiker, a scholar with doctorates in theology and philosophy, a man at ease with children and one of the leaders of Catholic Church reform.

He urged nations to uphold rights of citizens, lectured on the horrors of war and challenged consumptive lifestyles, yet held to conservative Catholic doctrines, including a devotion to the Virgin Mary.

But he was, in his beginnings, a country boy from Poland.

A pope had never ventured to Iowa, Hays thought, so why not him, why not now? He sat down to write a letter, telling the pope that the strength of the church here in America is found in its rural people.

A month later, a response arrived, and Hays was called to an Aug. 29 news conference.

I recommend reading Kilen’s feature. The Pope’s visit was a life-altering experience for some people, like the farmer who began shifting to more sustainable methods after hearing Pope John Paul II urge Iowans to “conserve the land well, so that your children’s children and generations after them will inherit an even richer land than was entrusted to you.”

While you’re on that page of the Register’s site, you can watch a video clip from the Pope’s address that day and view a photo gallery from the visit. The second picture in the gallery shows masses of people walking down Hickman Road in Urbandale, which had been closed to traffic.

That image brought back a lot of memories for me.

As a young child, I knew virtually nothing about the Catholic Church. The first time I remember realizing the Pope was important was when Pope Paul VI died in 1978, and Pope John Paul I died shortly thereafter. I could tell that was a big deal for Christians. (I didn’t know the difference between Catholics and Protestants at that point.)

Our home in Windsor Heights was about three miles from Living History Farms, and when we learned about Pope John Paul II’s planned visit, my parents decided that our family would walk to the farms to hear him speak. I remember my mother joking ahead of time that she was a “fair-weather friend of the Pope,” because she was only going to make the journey if the weather was nice. October 4, 1979 was chilly but dry, so my family walked to Living History Farms with neighbors who were Jewish, like us.

I don’t recall anything Pope John Paul II said that day. I just remember being excited to be walking so far and seeing more people in one place than I’d ever seen before. I’ve never been part of a crowd that large since. Even at age 10, having no spiritual connection to Catholicism, I sensed that I was witnessing something historic.

If you were living in Iowa 30 years ago, please share your memories of the papal visit in this thread.

Like many of you, I’ve been thinking today about the terrorist attacks eight years ago. My husband and I were living in London. I had watched the uneventful 1 pm news while eating lunch. Around 2 pm, which would have been 9 am in New York, someone called and told me to turn the tv back on. I was glued to the BBC for the rest of the day and night.

I remember watching the people trapped on the roof of the World Trade Center and wondering why none of the helicopters could get close enough to rescue them. I remember watching the south tower and later the north tower collapse. I simply could not believe a plane was able to crash into the Pentagon.

I remember the tremendous grief for the victims of the attacks, including 67 UK citizens. 9/11 claimed the lives of more British people than any single terrorist act by the Irish Republican Army. My not-easily-riled husband still gets irritated when people refer to the 3,000 “Americans” killed on 9/11.

In the weeks after the attack, I lost count of how many British people told me how very sorry they were about what had happened. Some of those people were strangers who approached me after hearing my American accent in a shop or a train station. They felt compelled to speak to me. The outpouring of support for the U.S. was real.

I didn’t lose any friends on 9/11. I only had one acquaintance who lost a loved one that day (his father was on one of the planes that hit the World Trade Center). Still, I felt incredibly angry about the attacks. I read many of the newspaper profiles of victims. During the Jewish high holidays in late September 2001, the last thing I felt like doing was reflecting on the past and forgiving wrongs from the past year. I remember listening to a BBC radio segment taped by the UK’s Chief Rabbi, David Sacks. He reminded listeners that the Bible (I assume he meant the Hebrew Scriptures or “Old Testament”) tells us once to love our neighbors, but tells us approximately 30 times to love the stranger. That’s because it is easier to love our neighbor, who is probably a lot like ourselves, than it is to love a stranger. It was an important message during a time of grief and sorrow.

Please share your own memories of 9/11, or anything else on your mind, in this thread.

UPDATE: If you haven’t seen it yet, read the diary Billy Parish cross-posted here yesterday, containing his memories of 9/11 and a call to action on global warming.

The UK Sunday paper The Observer published these statistics from 9/11 and the aftermath during the summer of 2002.

I’ve been taking my children to political rallies, receptions, and house parties since they were babies. Many Iowa Democrats have claimed not to recognize me without a small child riding on my front, hip or back.

At the same time, I’ve avoided exposing my kids to political scenes likely to turn confrontational, such as anti-war demonstrations. An article I read years ago in Mothering magazine persuasively argued that because young children cannot understand abstract political concepts, they are likely to be disturbed by the anger they encounter at a protest rally. (Sorry, no link–they don’t put most of their content online.)

I’ve also been influenced by my mother-in-law. In her 30 years as a preschool teacher, she learned that young children are easily confused by upsetting images. After 9/11, some of the kids in her class did not understand that television networks kept showing replays of the same scenes. They thought that another plane was crashing into another building every time they saw tragic footage from that day.

Living in the Des Moines suburbs, it’s usually no challenge to keep my little ones from volatile political scenes. They get that not everyone votes the same way, but politics to them means coming with Mommy or Daddy to hear a candidate speak, help deliver yard signs or vote on election day.

When Fred Phelps and his clan from the Westboro Baptist Church planned a trip to central Iowa this month, it occurred to me that sheltering my children from their hatred might not be an option.

I’m turning 40 today, and to mark the occasion I have compiled a list of 40 bloggers I like to read who have hit the same milestone. They are alphabetized by name or handle after the jump.

You’ll recognize many of the names, but probably not all of them. My goal was not to compile a list of 40 high-traffic bloggers.

I have a special appreciation for state bloggers because of all the time I spend writing at Bleeding Heartland. My birthday wish is that this diary will encourage you to get active on the progressive blogs in your city or state.

I apologize in advance to all the talented “older and wiser” bloggers I didn’t have room to mention.

One year ago today I was battling an ear infection that turned bad enough to put me in the hospital for a week.

What I went through then was among the worst experiences of my life. Yet looking back on the experience, I realize how lucky I was.

The rest of the story is after the jump.

adapted with minor changes from a diary I wrote last February

One day in February 2007, Steve Gilliard wrote his last post for the News Blog and went to the doctor to get a prescription for a cold he couldn’t shake. He was admitted to the hospital right away for treatment of an infection of unknown origin, and he never was able to get back on his computer. He died that June.

I know I’m not the only former News Blog addict who thinks of Steve every time Republican Party chairman Michael Steele says something ridiculous. Steve would have had a field day with the RNC leadership contest. Just imagine the post he might have written about this list of prominent conservatives who endorsed Ken Blackwell.

Further reflections on what Steve’s blogging meant to me are after the jump.

We’re halfway through January. This is a thread for discussing anything new you’ve been enjoying lately.

Favorite new habit: getting more cardio exercise. I’ve only stuck with it for three weeks so far, but I am motivated.

One of my favorite Chanukah presents was a pair of mittens my sister found at a craft fair, made out of recycled wool sweaters. They are perfect for walking the dog in sub-zero weather.

My family likes jigsaw puzzles, and my in-laws got us a 400-piece puzzle “featuring an extract from the US Geological Survey map base centered on your home.” The map covers an area six miles east to west and four miles north to south. It’s very challenging, because there’s no picture on the cover of the box to guide your way. It helps if you know most of the names of streets, parks, and schools in your area. My husband and I noticed the geological survey map was a few decades out of date; the puzzle shows lots of undeveloped space where the suburbs have sprawled, as well as some landmarks that no longer exist (such as Riley and Rice schools in Des Moines). I’m guessing the puzzle manufacturer pulled a map from the late 60s or maybe the very early 70s. West Des Moines is very small, but Valley High School is out on 35th St, rather than in the old Valley Junction location. If you want to order a puzzle of your home town or the place where you live now, here is the website.

If you have been enjoying any new (to you) books, magazines or blogs, tell us about them.

California-based blogger Ellinorianne has just launched a new blog called Chronic Share, “a welcoming community for those living with chronic disease.” (She suffers from fibromyalgia.) If you or a friend have a chronic illness, check it out. The format is very much like Bleeding Heartland; it only takes a minute to register, after which anyone can post comments or diaries.

The Daily Kos community is so huge, with more than a hundred thousand active users and hundreds of diaries posted every day, that many communities have formed within it. In those groups, diarists and commenters can get to know each other over time.

The “Edwards Evening News Roundup” was that kind of community for most of 2007. People came looking for those diaries so they could catch up on the news of the day and with other Edwards supporters they had “gotten to know” online. After John Edwards dropped out of the race, many of the active diarists in this group formed the EENR blog, which is now Progressive Blue.

Daily Kos has generated other communities that have nothing to do with politics. Frankenoid posts a Saturday morning garden thread every weekend, for instance.

On Monday nights a group of people take turns writing diaries about bereavement in “The Grieving Room” series. If you have ever experienced this kind of loss, I recommend that you read these posts.

Last night’s edition by Papachach, a widower with three young children, was quite moving.

On a related note, if you or anyone you care about has experienced depression for whatever reason, I recommend reading this piece, which made the top of the Daily Kos recommended list yesterday: I hope this message reaches the right person.

UPDATE: On the subject of bereavement, I recommend reading this interview with Elizabeth Edwards from last year, in which she shares how the sudden death of her son Wade changed her life and her faith.

With all due respect to Greg Brown and the Everly Brothers, I doubt that Iowa has ever produced a better songwriter than Justin Roberts.

The Des Moines native is coming back to town for a concert this weekend, and whether or not you can attend, I encourage all parents, grandparents and friends of parents to get to know his music.

This Associated Press feature named Roberts “a rising star in kids’ music”:

In less than a decade he’s gone from playing for a few people in a maternity shop to a few thousand in big-city pavilions and concert halls. And he’s done it in a way that’s increasingly popular: entertaining children without dressing like a purple dinosaur or singing songs that drive parents crazy.

“It’s not like a lot of kid music that’s almost unbearable for an adult to listen to,” said Lee Berger, sitting at a recent show in suburban Chicago with his wife and two small children. “It’s actually good music, and then they like it as well.”

How good? I sometimes listen to this music in the car even when my kids are not with me. It’s not dumbed down, and he writes songs in a variety of styles. On just one album, you can hear the 80s-style pop song “Meltdown” (“I’d stop the world and meltdown with you”), the Beatles-esque “Imaginary Rhino,” a country-ish tune about “Taking Off My Training Wheels” and echoes of Paul Simon in South Africa on “More Than Just a Minute.”

The AP writer notes that adults as well as kids can relate to Roberts’ lyrics, because they touch on universal joys, fears and family dynamics. Some songs put a twist on familiar tales; Humpty Dumpty isn’t a careless idiot, he’s a visionary who keeps climbing that wall to see the amazing view.

Instead of telling kids not to be scared of the monster under the bed because there is no such thing as a monster under a bed, Roberts empathizes with the monster. He might be hungry, missing his monster mom and dad, or scared of the child who seems like “a monster without fur.”

There are also some jokes just for the grown-ups, like phrases from classic Bob Dylan songs in the Dylan-like “Henrietta’s Hair.”

I am particularly fond of the lyrics on “Why Not Sea Monsters?”, an album of songs about the Hebrew Scriptures. Roberts has a funny way of conveying the essence of these stories, whether it’s Moses talking to the burning bush or the jealousy of Joseph’s brothers. (There is also a companion “Why Not Sea Monsters?” album with songs about the New Testament.)

I mentioned in my calendar of this week’s events that Roberts and his band (the Not Ready for Naptime Players) will play a free concert this Sunday, September 7, at 3:00 pm on the west lawn of the Botanical Center in Des Moines. Information about upcoming shows can be found here. You won’t be disappointed, whether Roberts brings along his full band or only the very talented Liam Davis (also his producer).

I wish I could find some footage from a concert on YouTube, because you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a bunch of kids go wild to “D-O-G,” “Day Camp” or “Cartwheels and Somersaults.”

Roberts keeps the audience engaged by encouraging kids to make a particular gesture repeatedly during each song. This is a classic trick of storytelling. Even a pre-verbal toddler who can’t sing along enjoys copying the motions.

For months before he was able to talk, my younger son would put his arm up in the air at the beginning of “I Chalk,” ready to make a big sidewalk chalk circle during the chorus. He tried so hard to point his fingers in the air during the “one by one by one by one” refrain of “Billy the Bully.”

Bring extra money if you do go to a Justin Roberts concert, because chances are you’ll want to buy a CD or two to take home. Depending on where you live, you may not find any of his music in stores, but his albums are available here. We like them all, but our favorites are probably “Meltdown,” “Pop Fly,” “Way Out” and “Not Naptime.”

Four videos can be found on the official Justin Roberts website. To brighten your weekend, I leave you with the title song of his latest album, “Pop Fly.” Not only do my boys love it, that track went all the way to number one on XMKIDS radio:

After John Edwards left the race, I always said I’d vote for our nominee but would never donate to either Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama.

All spring and summer, I vowed never to put an Obama sticker on my car and joked that Bleeding Heartland was last bastion of Obamaskepticism in the Iowa blogosphere.

I sent in my $15 tonight to get an Obama-Biden car magnet.

Daily Kos and MyDD user “Angry Mouse,” a dedicated Clinton supporter throughout the primaries, published this moving diary about her journey from being “just a Democrat who will vote for the party’s nominee” to a strong Obama supporter.

Consider this an open thread for discussing anything you’ve done that you thought you’d never do.

I wouldn’t say my four-year-old son was following the presidential race closely last year, but he was paying enough attention to understand that his parents were voting for John Edwards. Having been in the car a few times when I delivered yard signs, he also understood that an Edwards sign in front of someone’s house meant that person was also voting for Edwards.

In March of this year, my son (by then five years old) asked me whether we were still voting for John Edwards. I explained that not enough people had voted for Edwards, so he couldn’t be the president. We would vote for someone else, probably Barack Obama. He found that a little confusing, but over time it clicked with him that we were supporting Obama for president.

This evening we had a baby-sitter over for a couple of hours. While she was here, I was getting the kids a snack, and my older son asked her who she was voting for. She said, “McCain.”

He followed up with, “But who are you voting for for president?” She said, “McCain.”

Pause. He turns to me: “Mommy, are we voting for Obama?”

“Yes, we’re voting for Obama, but [baby-sitter] is voting for McCain.”

“Oh.” And he went back to eating pretzels.

Like many people who volunteered for John Edwards last year, I’ve been working through conflicting feelings this weekend.

Natasha Chart voiced some of my frustration in this piece about our ridiculous standards of public morality. Ethical lapses that affect the lives of thousands or millions of people are not career-enders for politicians, but marital infidelity is supposed to be–if you’re a Democrat. Once again, it’s ok if you’re a Republican.

Many Edwards supporters are angry about the publicity surrounding this story. It’s infuriating to see journalists more interested in Edwards now that he has admitted to an affair than they were when he was a presidential candidate talking about substantive issues.

David Mizner loathes the “American sickness” of needing to know about the sex lives of politicians, adding:

I supported Edwards not because I loved him and not because I thought he had sex with only his wife. I supported him because I believe in progressive populism.

Many bloggers I respect, from TomP to MontanaMaven and RDemocrat made similar comments on Friday. After all, we were backing Edwards for president, not husband of the year.

Ellinorianne put it well:

What John did in 2006 has no bearing on Universal Health Care.  What happened in 2006 does not make poverty in this County any less of an urgent issue.  The corporate media would love to believe that what John did in 2006 would mean one less powerful voice talking about the strangle hold that corporations have on every facet of our lives in this Country.

Nothing can take away from these issues unless we let it happen.

On one level, I relate to what Ellinorianne wrote, because Edwards undoubtedly put topics on the agenda that would barely have been discussed had he not run for president. While he was in the race, at least one candidate was talking about the excesses of corporate power. After he dropped out, that issue disappeared from political discourse.

For that reason, I never regretted the time I spent volunteering for Edwards. Of course, I was sorry that Iowans did not give him the boost he needed in the caucuses. I was disappointed that I failed to deliver a third delegate for him from my own precinct. But watching the campaign devolve into identity politics in February and March, I was more convinced than ever that helping this longshot candidate was worth the effort.

These past few weeks have caused me to question for the first time whether I would back Edwards if I had it to do over again. Edwards’ policies and rhetoric were a necessary condition for my support, but they would not have been sufficient had I not also believed that he was the strongest general election candidate. Otherwise I could have backed Dennis Kucinich, who was even closer to me ideologically than Edwards.

Here and at other blogs, I advocated for Edwards as the most electable candidate because of his communication skills, his appeal to small-town and rural voters, his way of evoking broad themes in his answers to specific questions, and so on.

Speaking to potential caucus-goers, I often noted that Edwards had faced intense national scrutiny for years, making it unlikely that the Republicans could spring any “October surprise” on us.

Now I realize that the whole time, Edwards was hiding a story that would have reinforced the most devastating narrative about him: he’s a phony who talks about one set of values but lives a different set of values.

How damaging was this narrative? Last year I used to joke that if I ever came into possession of a time machine, I would go back and persuade John Edwards to hire Sarah Susanka (the Not So Big House woman) to design his Chapel Hill home.

It appears that Edwards had no game plan other than to hope that Rielle Hunter wouldn’t tell anyone and/or that journalists wouldn’t pick up on the rumors as long as he lied.

I empathize with Elizabeth Edwards, who wrote on Friday:

This was our private matter, and I frankly wanted it to be private because as painful as it was I did not want to have to play it out on a public stage as well.

I agree with BruceMcF, who observed that our country would have lost a great leader if sexual immorality had ended Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s career.

But presidential candidates have to run in the world that is, not the world that used to be or the world that should be. I simply can’t imagine how this affair could have remained under wraps throughout a long campaign.

To my mind, Edwards owed it to all Democrats to either step aside or find some way to make this story old news. I understand the desire to avoid a media circus, but it wasn’t realistic to hope that journalists would cover for him or that Hunter would keep a secret.

Responding to a commenter at Daily Kos, Elizabeth Edwards wrote on Friday:

Each of us has a day we wish we could take back. We are all imperfect beings, Denny. Here’s what I know, looking back: poverty, a truly aggressive and progressive environmental platform, universal health care would not have been part of the discussion if someone of force and vision had not been there to make them part of the conversation.

An imperfect man with a truly progressive vision who spoke to and for those whom others ignored? Yes, that is who I supported.

An imperfect man who had come to face his own imperfections and was seeking to redeem himself to those closest to him? Yes, that is who I supported.

With the Supreme Court and so much more riding on the outcome of this election, helping someone redeem himself to his family is not high on my priority list. Ultimately, I have to agree with Ezra Klein:

No one forces you to devote your life to national advocacy of important issues. But if you decide to do follow that path, with all the plaudits and moments of roaring applause it entails, you have to make certain sacrifices, and shoulder certain realities. Among them is that if you falter, you can harm all that you’re advocating and deny help to all whom you claim to represent.

If Edwards wanted to face his imperfections, he should have found some vague way to disclose marital problems that he and Elizabeth had worked through. Let voters decide whether that should be a deal-breaker or whether his potential contribution to American life outweighs the mistake.

If he could not bear to get ahead of the story, the least he could have done was to tell the truth when first asked about rumors of his affair. DrFrankLives (who has devoted far more volunteer hours to Edwards than I have) hit the nail on the head in this diary:

I want to know two things.  How the hell could you, a man who ran everything through a careful filter, allow that to happen during a political campaign in which so many people had so much riding on you?  And what the hell were you thinking when you denied it when asked about it?  You’re a lawyer.  You know that questions keep coming.  And nothing delights a cross-examiner like a false answer.

Which candidate would I have supported knowing what I know now? Probably I would have held out for Al Gore for a few more months. Maybe I would have settled on Chris Dodd or Joe Biden. Neither of them were as strong on my key issues as Edwards, though. I suspect that I would have come around to Edwards eventually if the affair had been revealed early in the campaign. It wouldn’t be the first time I voted for someone who was unfaithful to his wife.

Had I known that Edwards was recklessly hiding a story with the potential to destroy his campaign, I would have found a different candidate for sure.

What makes me more angry than anything else is that this scandal appears to have derailed Elizabeth Edwards’ plans to speak at the Democratic National Convention in Denver. We need her voice on health care reform.

Feel free to share your own reflections in the comments.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, one of the most famous Russian novelists of the 20th century, died near Moscow on Sunday at age 89. Here is a link to his obituary in the New York Times.

I studied Russian literature in college, and Solzhenitsyn was never my favorite. His books didn’t affect me like the work of another famous dissident, Andrei Sinyavskii, who wrote under the pseudonym Abram Tertz. He wasn’t as inventive a writer as Vladimir Nabokov. I still prefer Yuri Trifonov as a chronicler of everyday Soviet life (especially the novellas “The Exchange” and “The House on the Embankment”).

But Solzhenitsyn’s novels about Soviet prison camps and other extraordinary features of Soviet society made an incalculable contribution to world culture. People will probably still be reading “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” centuries from now. “Cancer Ward” and “The First Circle” were also good novels, though not as famous as “The Gulag Archepelago.”

I didn’t care much for Solzhenitsyn’s politics, but I respect him for going back to live in post-Soviet Russia when he could have lived more comfortably in Vermont. He had great talent and worked hard to bring to light some very dark episodes in Soviet history. May he rest in peace.