The Canadian Record (Canadian, Tex.), Vol. 106, No. 32, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 8, 1996 Page: 2 of 32
thirty two pages : ill. ; page 19 x 13 in. Digitized from 35 mm. microfilm.View a full description of this newspaper.
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r
opinion
page
More is often less
By Joe Patrick Bean, San Antonio Express-News
UHHEN THE REPUBLICAN National Conven-
W tion meets in San Diego next week and it:?
Democratic counterpart in Chicago later this month,
delegates to the two conclaves will hear dozens and
dozens of speeches. Current and former presidents.
Cabinet members, governors, members of Congress,
other political luminaries, celebrities and military
heroes will address the conventions.
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Few of these speakers will have anything that is
truly new or substantive to say. and most will take
too iong to say it. Few will follow the example set by
my great-great-aunt, Kansas state Rep. Minnie
Johnson Grinstead. at the 19*24 Republican National
Convention in Cleveland.
One of the first women ever to speak from the
platform at a major party’s national convention, she
seconded the nomination of President Calvin
Coolidge in a brief address the Wichita Beacon called
"easily one of the outstanding features of the conven-
tion.”
The first woman to serve in her state's Legisla-
ture. from 1919 to 1924. Aunt Minnie had "one of the
best voices in Kansas, for speech-making purposes,”
according to the Topeka Capital. She also under-
stood a basic principle essential to effective public
speaking: Because less is otten more, keep it short
and simple.
Here is her convention speech, as reported in the
New York Times on June 12.1924:
"This is a great day in the history of the coun-
try—a day when woman has come into her own. It is
a great honor to Kansas to be permitted to second
the nomination of the strong heart of the nation.
"It gives me supreme pleasure :< see n mutated
a man whose greatest happiness is duty, whose con-
solation is work, whose delight is the beautiful. I
thank you.”
Including applause and cheers. Aunt Minnie ?
speech lasted barely two minutes. It surely eann« t be
considered one of the great political addresses >f the
20th century, but it effectively accomplished its
speaker's purposes. With no excess verbiage. Aunt
Minnie appealed to recently enfranchised women
voters, proudly showcased her home state, seconded
Coolidge's nomination and emphasized his virtues.
Having said exactly what she hail to say—and not
one word more—she left the platform and sat down.
POL! OWING I RON A SUMMER-LONG PROMISE, I took Maddie
camptr.g : weekend It was a toe-in-the-water excursion, designed
with ;U; the safety features that might be needed for a 3 1/2-year old
first-time camper whose charmingly girlish inclinations are somewhat
mystifying to her grandmother.
In H'.y \ oath, 1 loaned towards the opinion that femininity intei fei ed
with f ar. and placed untenable restrictions on one’s activities under the
dated c'.r.s-. f dec. Hint. The truth is, I still tend to feel that way, age
doesn't seen to have had any moderating influence.
T. : Mad da s not only unconstrained by being a girl—she revels in
A? -.he '*nset of our outing, she bursts into the office clutching
? - e; n her hands. Approaching my desk, she unfurls a pink and
p.:" ■. dowered nightgown she’s brought along for our overnight.
H ring :: aloft for my approval, she asks, “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Uur ? amnsite was the Mitchell Ranch. I knew when I pulled into the
o'it was a wise choice. Maddie* squirmed uneasily w hen a lime-
gtven grasshopper leapt onto the windshield of the car and perched
there “You will cany me," she firmly announced.
I.ked at the armfuls of camping cargo that needed to he unloaded,
and hesitated only briefly before complying with Maddie’s request.
Once inside the ranchhou.se, iviaudio c eeled off a verbal compendium
of every buzzing, flying, crawling creature she could spot lrom the
sanctuary’ of her chair at the kitchen table. The nervous thrill in her
response to my swatting one particularly dangerous-looking wasp
caused me to utter w rds I would not have previously thought possible:
"Want to watch Nickelodeon for a while, Maddie?
I regrouped.
Today's tents are a fascinating compilation of colorful nylon sup-
ported by cleverly-designed shock-corded aluminum poles—easy to
assemble and virtually self-supporting. I counted on the construction
project to distract Maddie from the insect assault which is a daily hazard
of country life.
At first concerned with what might be making the grass move,
Maddie’s natural curiosity couldn’t resist the sight of that brightly
billowing tent. The zippered door and window, the incandescent w’alls
flapping in the breeze, the carefully-arranged layers of foam pads and
sleeping bags, the Maddie-sized flashlight...all hinted at some compel-
ling combination of shelter, mystery and adventure.
"Can I put my nightgown on now?" Maddie asked. It was 6:00 p.m.
Within two hours of our arrival, Maddie was running barefoot
through the grass, chasing fireflies, tracking frogs with flashlights,
splashing in mudpuddles, “investigating” holes in the ground, and
urging me and our friend Robin to go exploring with her.
We sat at the picnic table as it grew darker, taking turns weaving
stories into the night. "I will go first,” Maddie explained, “because I am
the most gorgeous.”
She easily established herself as storyteller par excellence, knowing
instinctively how to draw her listeners into the tali* with an opening like
"When I was a frog....", her clever rhymes carrying us happily along,
her endings leaving us wishing for more.
As .-.greed, there were marshmallows before bedtime. Unflappable
Mu i : when told that there would be no fire for toasting, decided that
■vs would eat our marshmallows white. They were no less delicious in
their raw state, and a necessary’ part of tin* ritual on which we were
collaborating.
Once Maddie and I had zipped up the tent flaps and crawled beneath
c vers, sleep came almost too quickly. A few murmured observations
merged with the cadence of crickets and quiet.
Later on. the wind picked up and rattled the tent fly. Lightning
illuminated our shelter. Perhaps it rained. I don't really know. I woke
briefly to check on Maddie. I watched her sleeping peacefully, untrou-
bled by the building storm, and must have drifLxi away.
HE PROSE EQUIVALENT of near beer is half wit.
JOHN LEONARD. CBS Sunday Morning
Continued on Page 3
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Ezzell, Nancy & Brown, Laurie Ezzell. The Canadian Record (Canadian, Tex.), Vol. 106, No. 32, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 8, 1996, newspaper, August 8, 1996; Canadian, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth736129/m1/2/: accessed May 21, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Hemphill County Library.