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campaign promises
January 20, 2015
Shelby "Stumpy" Schoenick looked at himself in the mirror.
This was his third term in the House representing his District in Texas. Only eighteen months ago, tonight's State Of The Union address had not been on Stumpy's agenda for his future.
Political winds changed abruptly, as did fickle electorate minds. Stumpy's own life had changed much since he first took office on the platform of sweeping the Beltway clean.
Tonight he would begin that process with renewed zeal. Accepting Jesus as his saviour had obliterated the deadness in his heart from a surfeit of Washington, D.C. Christ had given him resolve to renew his promises to his constituents.
Vietnam had cost him his right leg and earned him his nickname. Shelby Schoenick loved his country and had proved it may times over.
He realized the time, then pulled his titanium prosthesis into position. Stumpy began the skillful ritual of attaching it, making it as comfortable as possible.
When he was satisfied, he slid the cover-plate down, and the small button popped up.
He dressed carefully & methodically, sub-consciously assuming the role of Sarah, his wife of 34 years. No stray hair, dust, dandruff, just his immaculate charcoal suit, silver shirt & slate-grey tie.
He called Sarah to tell her he was on his way to the House Chamber. She told him she was proud of him.
No tears, no fear, praise be the Lord God who gave his only Son as ransom for our sins.
She told him she would see him soon.
Stumpy exited his hotel room and went to the lobby to be picked up.
The black GMC truck was right on time. Stumpy wished the rest of D.C. ran that way.
Schoenick's arrival brought quite a few photographers to attention. Off-year elections were seldom as important as this one had been, and Stumpy's campaign had been arduous and acrimonious.
Stumpy forgave himself for the sense of pride & importance he felt for a moment as the camera flashes went off in his face.
He glad-handed his friends and enemies alike as they waited in line to clear security for entry to the House Chamber.
Stumpy found it increasingly difficult to tell friends and enemies apart these last few months. Certainly they didn't divide neatly along party lines.
Once inside the Chamber, Stumpy was further gratified to receive applause as he was escorted to his seat. He smiled sincerely and acknowledged the recognition with genuine gratitude.
With the relatively recent tradition of sitting between members of the other Party, Stump Schoenick shook hands with his neighbours to the right & left, truly wishing them well.
He was equally sincere as he rose to the strains of "Hail To The Chief", one of the first to his feet out of respect to the Office of the President.
In the quiet moments before the Address began, Stumpy lowered his head just a trace, said a prayer to Yahweh on behalf of them all.
As the first sentence issued from the President's mouth, with the serenity only true faith can bring, Stump Schoenick pressed the button on top of his prosthesis and swept the Beltway clean.
Shelby "Stumpy" Schoenick looked at himself in the mirror.
This was his third term in the House representing his District in Texas. Only eighteen months ago, tonight's State Of The Union address had not been on Stumpy's agenda for his future.
Political winds changed abruptly, as did fickle electorate minds. Stumpy's own life had changed much since he first took office on the platform of sweeping the Beltway clean.
Tonight he would begin that process with renewed zeal. Accepting Jesus as his saviour had obliterated the deadness in his heart from a surfeit of Washington, D.C. Christ had given him resolve to renew his promises to his constituents.
Vietnam had cost him his right leg and earned him his nickname. Shelby Schoenick loved his country and had proved it may times over.
He realized the time, then pulled his titanium prosthesis into position. Stumpy began the skillful ritual of attaching it, making it as comfortable as possible.
When he was satisfied, he slid the cover-plate down, and the small button popped up.
He dressed carefully & methodically, sub-consciously assuming the role of Sarah, his wife of 34 years. No stray hair, dust, dandruff, just his immaculate charcoal suit, silver shirt & slate-grey tie.
He called Sarah to tell her he was on his way to the House Chamber. She told him she was proud of him.
No tears, no fear, praise be the Lord God who gave his only Son as ransom for our sins.
She told him she would see him soon.
Stumpy exited his hotel room and went to the lobby to be picked up.
The black GMC truck was right on time. Stumpy wished the rest of D.C. ran that way.
Schoenick's arrival brought quite a few photographers to attention. Off-year elections were seldom as important as this one had been, and Stumpy's campaign had been arduous and acrimonious.
Stumpy forgave himself for the sense of pride & importance he felt for a moment as the camera flashes went off in his face.
He glad-handed his friends and enemies alike as they waited in line to clear security for entry to the House Chamber.
Stumpy found it increasingly difficult to tell friends and enemies apart these last few months. Certainly they didn't divide neatly along party lines.
Once inside the Chamber, Stumpy was further gratified to receive applause as he was escorted to his seat. He smiled sincerely and acknowledged the recognition with genuine gratitude.
With the relatively recent tradition of sitting between members of the other Party, Stump Schoenick shook hands with his neighbours to the right & left, truly wishing them well.
He was equally sincere as he rose to the strains of "Hail To The Chief", one of the first to his feet out of respect to the Office of the President.
In the quiet moments before the Address began, Stumpy lowered his head just a trace, said a prayer to Yahweh on behalf of them all.
As the first sentence issued from the President's mouth, with the serenity only true faith can bring, Stump Schoenick pressed the button on top of his prosthesis and swept the Beltway clean.
