That all came to an end in June of 1992. I saw the rise of Bill Clinton, and was prepared to support him for President. I was somewhat uneasy, because he was clearly a smarmy operator and liar, but I thought that since he was in the same party, he was the best choice.
Then came the Sista Souljah speech. I remember thinking about how this was a transparent play for the centrist vote, and how nobody had ever heard of Sistah Souljah before, and that Bill Clinton was just abusing this woman to score political points. I expected to see a reaction in the press and editorial pages chiding Clinton for being so shallow and manipulative. Instead, I remember seeing opinion pieces about his brave stand against the NAACP and how wonderfully tough he was. Even after a week, people were only criticizing him in the context of how, although it was a shallow and cynical racial sell-out, it was a subtle master stroke of political genius.
At that point, I realized that there was no substance behind Bill Clinton, and that he would say anything to be elected. I further realized that the newspapers, editorial writers, and television commentators knew full well that this was so, but were going to say or do anything to make sure he was elected anyway. It was a stunning revelation to me, because I had been blindly believing such people all my life. I started to critically evaluate the candidates, began dismissing much of what I saw on TV or read in the newspapers, and wound up pulling the Republican lever for President George H. W. Bush that November, the first time I had voted for a Republican in my whole life.
And I never looked back.
Always been a Republican. But my dad came over to the right side in 1956 (Ike over Stevenson), and my mom ditched the Dems not long after meeting my dad.