Topeka Daily Capital
Nov. 2, 1960

This is a strange election. Many men who state their choice of either candidate feel compelled to immediately explain that the choice isn’t based on religion. Pollsters and political prophets say in the first paragraph which candidate will win, then use the next 20 paragraphs explaining why the other man could win.

I read a lot about the election, and I gather that it hinges on the “undecided,” vote. You can read that from 6 percent clear up to something like 30 percent of the voters still are undecided. That’s strange to me, too, because I haven’t met a man in weeks who says he is undecided.

My wife is so firmly decided on her vote that she might classify as undecided. She started in the Nixon camp, switched to Kennedy after the first debate, moved back to Nixon and then back to Kennedy in later debates, and now is pretty solidly behind Nixon.

Of course, I haven’t been home in four hours, so that this could have changed. I’m glad, for her sake, that she didn’t see the television programs Sunday afternoon when a lot of the candidates of minor parties were on . . .

In various places, at various hours and with varying degrees of interest and boredom, I’ve heard lively political arguments and seen sizable bets made. Most of these arguments follow the same format.

They start quietly, build, up to the point where both men – or several men – re all talking at the same time, and then all are shouting at the same time. Finally, one says he’ll just bet some outlandish figure he’s right.

Usually, both help each other back out of the bet, and both are glad of it. Occasionally, They bet a small sum. The big bets are made calmly as a rule, because these people aren’t kidding.

I’ve never heard one of these arguments hinge on the religious issue. I have brought up this issue only once, and that was once too often. I did it in comparative privacy, but it was a mistake . . .

In the old list of note newspaper cliches that say, for example, that the lone bandit scoops up the cash, all express trains are crack, and all airliners big, there is another that says all Catholics are devout.

My mother probably is. At least, compared to me, she is deeply religious. She is also a devout Republican. On my last trip to see her, when I asked her whom she was going to vote for, she looked at me like I had asked her if she believes in God. “Nixon of course,” she said.

I told her I was a little surprised. I said I thought that if anybody would back Kennedy, it would be her. Even before I finished saying it, she had given me such a withering look I never again will question her Republicanism or her political integrity.

In these surroundings, my dad follows the path of least resistance. If he has any Democratic tendencies, he keeps them to himself. He’s a little old, he said, to be locked out of the house.

There is little that is pleasant about the religious issue, but there have been a few laughs that both sides could enjoy. I recall one. One Saturday morning, some months ago, we heard the bells of Assumption Church ringing joyously, as they always do following a wedding.

A stranger in our newsroom, across the street from the church, asked what all the bells were ringing for. One of our veterans replied, without even looking up: “They just got some returns from West Virginia.”

I’ll admit I had to laugh, too, when my older boy, 7, said a friend of his, also 7, was for Nixon because if Kennedy is elected, the Pope will make him pray so much he won’t have time to be president.

I really believe people like my wife hold the key to the election. Heaven only knows what she’ll do in the privacy of the voting booth, And that’s the way it should be. That’s what this country is all about. If it isn’t the best way, it’s at least the best way this side of heaven.