Andrew Breitbart died today at the age of 43.
You’ve already read about it. You’ve lamented over the sudden and premature death of a great patriot who was a tireless champion for liberty. You mourn for the family that lost a devoted husband and father.
You may even wonder if it’s a conspiracy; if Breitbart had dug up something truly scandalous. After all, he was so young, and while it’s not often that a prominent journalist is so deliberately silenced, if you’ve ever read the story of Don Bolles, you know it can and does happen.
Finally, you cringe at the misfortune in the timing of his passing. Few conservative voices spoke as loud and clear as that of Andrew Breitbart, and we are approaching a critical battle where we need all hands on deck.
You hope that someone will fill the void. You resolve to honor his legacy in your own way.
But will you? Will you really? If ever there was a time to answer the call, it is now.
Few who answer the call to action are born into it. Most of us can point to an event, or series of events, that drove us to go further than our usual complaining around the water cooler. Sometimes is a major crisis, or an election, or an epiphany of some sort.
For me, it was a mistake by the Federal government that led me to step away from my computer and get out to do more.
The exact date was February 19, 2010. My wife forwarded me an e-mail that she had received from a family values organization urging parents to call their congressmen about a bill that would require public schools to “normalize” GLBT lifestyles and educate children as early as kindergarten on the matter – it was HB 4530.
Having just enrolled two children locally in kindergarten and first grade, I was curious enough to check the list of the bill’s sponsors. Surely, no congressman from Arizona would attach his or her name to such a piece of legislation.
I found the name Raul Grijalva. And, according to the Federal Congressional district locator database, he was my congressman.
For two months, I wrote letters to Grijalva’s office (that went unanswered) and vetted the candidates that were running against him in the November election. I decided to back the most qualified opponent, a Tucson rocket scientist named Ruth McClung. I made a financial donation to a political campaign for the first time in my life.
It was about that time that Grijalva made the moronic statement that he wanted the rest of the nation to boycott his own constituents in response to SB 1070. Suddenly, the untouchable incumbent was vulnerable, and McClung had a real chance.
I went to meet her in person at a GOP legislative district meeting in Avondale to offer my support. While I was there, it was suggested to me by another of her supporters that I look into becoming a Precinct Committeeman for the Republican Party. It seemed simple enough. I grabbed the paperwork, and by May of 2010, I was ready to get signatures.
It was then I realized the Federal database I’d checked three months prior was wrong. I actually live just outside Grijalva’s district. I wasn’t a constituent of his at all. My congressman was the very conservative Trent Franks.
But the die had been cast. I had seen enough of what the socialist left wanted for America, and I had adopted the motto of our second President:
“I must study politics and war that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy.” – John Adams
For nearly two years now, I have studied. I have been active behind the keyboard, but, more importantly, I have been active on the street. I have attended party meetings. I have been to campaign rallies. I have spoken to friends, family, co-workers, and anyone else who will listen about the importance of getting involved. Of getting out to vote.
Despite the efforts of many dedicated supporters, McClung lost her election. It was in fact one of the closest races that her very blue district had seen in recent years. But I was not discouraged. The fall of 2010 brought a sweeping change to the House of Representatives, and we had been a small part of it. Grijalva was still in office, but he’d been neutered.
Now we are at a critical stage of a Presidential primary race. I have vetted the candidates, and decided to back Rick Santorum. My entire family has been active in his campaign. We’ve been to rallies, we’ve campaigned for him online, and on Sunday prior to Arizona’s primary, my wife and kids went out with me to blanket our entire area with Santorum signs.
Rick Santorum did not win Arizona. He wasn’t even close. But on Wednesday, I pulled the results for my local precinct from the county recorder’s website:
|Arizona Precinct 7202 – CD2|
Rick Santorum won our neighborhood by 11 votes. In a state where he lost by double-digits just about everywhere else, he won our precinct.
We put our boots on the ground, and we made a difference. And there’s an opportunity in every neighborhood in America for one family, or even just one person, to make that same difference. You can get out and hang signs. Pass out bumper stickers. Go to rallies. Vote, and make sure everyone you know is registered to vote (you’d be surprised how many people aren’t).
There’s still time to become a Precinct Committeeman. Contact the Republican Party in your county. They’ll be happy to help you get started. If you’re not sure, ask me. I’ll help you get started.
But get started. Today. Not tomorrow. Not when it’s more convenient. Right now.
The next generation is counting on you to act, and the enemy is counting on your apathy.