817 2nd Ave NW
Arab, AL 35016
September 21, 2020
The Honorable Donald J Trump
President of Our United States
1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW
Washington DC 20502
Dear Mr. President,
I am writing to tell you a true story of a man. A slightly below average man. A somewhere in the middle guy. A man always fighting to be the best. Just win baby. Never quits. Night school CPA eventually after a slight detour into fatherhood. Get a degree, get a job with a Top 100 company, then get on with life. Once a high school baseball player. His favorite player Hank Aaron, the Hammer, number 44, Atlanta Braves. The Hammering’ Hank from Mobile, Alabama. This man, Alabama’s Greatest Fan, and cheerleader. From Bryant to Saban From Hank Williams to Condoleezza Rice. To Angels Among Us. An old man on the cusp of retirement age but with no intentions of quitting work. Yes, he’s going to file for social security because he needs the money. Unwise decisions, divorce at age 50 with child support. A divorce that took his business, home, and most of all his daughter. So, he believes he’s earned it. The right to make that choice. After all it’s my money they took every week for 45 years.
A man with his share of skeletons, poor decision making, addictions, divorces, success, a late baby boomer, Reagan conservative, backslid Baptist, war widows son. In fact, he was ironically Saving Private Ryan. Son of Staff Sergeant James C Hayes, Army CO C 6th Engineer 1943 Philippines. His father came home and proudly and gratefully fathered a daughter and son, twelve years apart in age. Then 14 days before his son’s 3rd birthday died of a massive heart attack. The Veterans Administration awards his mother a V.A. pension and of course social security after his death determining the man would not have died at 43, except for the diseases he endured during his Philippines war service. A man who always thought himself non-worthy. It seemed to him something is missing; he didn’t seem to fit. No wars to fight. A child of the 70’s. But he pressed on. Someone who always had a dream. Always a dreamer. After all, when you grow up listening to, dream on by Aerosmith, One of These Nights by Glen Frey, and the Eagles, watching a moon landing, listening to President Reagan talk about living the American dream. And the listening and watching him restore that attitude in America again. He believed by God. A man who dreamed of owning land and a home. His father and mother never did. Who grew up in government housing. Yes, he had financial help, but mom worked as a waitress. And made him help as a bus boy at age 11 for tips. Who was unemployed for nine months during the Carter administration. But got the best job of his life during Reagans first term. Saved bought his first house during that late first term. Traded up to a bigger house during President Reagan’s second term. Listened as people described his trickle-down policies that worked as only benefiting the rich. And knew it was bull. Because it worked. And if anyone knows the first thing about economics will always work. That’s how you spread the wealth. Include. Less taxes, people have more cash available. And what do they do spend, spend, and spend more money, more tax revenue, more roads, more help for the poor or seniors, or most likely pork. Because they don’t care about America or the people only about getting reelected and advancing an agenda. An agenda of hate, divide, and conquer. It’s 2020 the new Liberal Hippie Chinese Hate America Socialist Charm School H-Bomb War. All who hate American and what our constitution stands for Freedom. The freest country on earth. So, if you can’t be happy and learn what’s freedom is all about. We will just erect a different Steeple. A steeple of kill the America, evil, bible thumpers and redneck of any class below us. The elite or just hate mongers. But he still believed and pressed forward on faith, a vision of faith.
Because he saw that faith in the mirrored eyes of President Reagan. A belief in America and American morals, a President who imbodied these ideals, a belief in the American Entrepreneur Spirit of Fire, that spirit, will always succeed and once fueled can change the universe. A belief in helping and forgiving, trusting, but always, always verifying. And inclusion for all people. Values defined and posted. American values ingrained and fought for to form a more perfect union. Of the people, by the people, For the people. Or did they tear that statue down. Are we even people anymore?
So why am I writing you President Trump. To say thank you for being strong, tough, and hope you will continue to do so when reelected. Because I don’t think anyone else could have steered us through the venomous storm. Especially, while being politically assaulted and battered constantly everywhere. While certainly sad and tragic the late Supreme Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg passing, how ironic. With poling showing such a tight race in our Presidential election. Of course, those pols I know and anyone with a lick of sense knows are file 13 material.
But I know you are doing what you think is best for the country. Just in case a miracle happens and it’s too close to call, you’ve got to have 9 Justices. For the tiebreaker. So, you must appoint a Judge.
They will not let you. Another misdirection to point fingers and make you look bad. But I know you will try. You have my full support. Because although quiet different in words and ways. You, like the late President Reagan have the American people in mind. To protect and help and most of all it’s the right thing to do for this Nation. And it’s citizens. All of them. Especially since we are and have been going through a “damn” Pandemic.
But haters are going to hate. As the saying goes. And the devil’s agenda is the money or power. Or who knows anymore. They will find an agenda or create a new dividing group or dividing word to tear down this nation more and more. That’s if we continue to let them.
Let me borrow a phrase. And now the rest of the “true” story. This is not meant to be a sob story or bring him into the light. These are the facts as he lived them. The past few years as he lived them. What happened and what he discovered about our America now and its people. Also, a bird’s eye insight into how our government helps, treats people, and his perception of actions by Government by the people, for the people, in action.
This man after being laid off from his job due to the coronavirus, filed for unemployment. Already behind on his bills due to circumstances beyond his control. And living below the states standard of living income which most likely is one of the lowest in America comparatively, then waits six weeks to get any money. So, his creditors are howling. But there’s a pandemic they’ll work with him. Sure, they will, the President said so. They may help some people with children or of color or seniors. So, he feels confident they’ll work with him. Would you like to see pictures of eviction notices. Power companies refusing a partial payment. Or telling them his sister would pay it online but disconnecting long before closing. He then had to pay a reconnect charge.
So, here’s a man a white male with children all grown and college educated. One in fact a teacher. One a fresh out of college with a new job and an aspiring model. He is 61 years old but December 27, 2020 he’ll be 62. And he’s thinking make it to January and everything will be fine. Draw unemployment maybe find a good job in between. And he’ll be fine.
After six weeks finally. Cash. But then for some reason he doesn’t get 10 weeks of the federal money. Then there is three weeks he only gets 200 dollars per week and one only 100 dollars. And after all this when the President issues an executive order giving states 400 extra per week for the unemployed. But he doesn’t know who to call to get any of this fixed. Or when the new federal money will arrive. Everything is nuts right now. And he learns patience. Of course, his beloved Bama Governor doesn’t contribute the 100 because the state can’t afford it and she waits three weeks before issuing a decision to give the feds money to our states unemployed. No matter he’s a survivor. During this period, he must borrow from family, friends, anyone. He goes without food, electricity, and in fact one weekend ate nothing but rice. White cooked rice. Learn you can live off peanut butter from the Dollar Tree.
But being proud, or ashamed will not ask for help, think maybe he deserves this. Because it was his red wagon and he was going to pull it without help if possible. Plus, he discovered a new talent writing. And a talent for helping people worse off than himself. The addict he helped get a place to live. The you kid who reminded of himself. The hard-working kid whose Ford Ranger blew out the engine, so he loaned him his. A Ford Ranger to work his construction gig. Otherwise no cash for his family. And writing about the people who made this country great. And poetry. The once bottom line guy, now an artist, writer. Is this a great country or what? Writing about the America no one talks about. The crooks and crazies. And he found out one thing. These people appreciate it and wound up helping him more that he helped them. You just never know how things will turn out unless you try. So being inspired by all this good will from seemingly out of know where. He begins to dream. Again! No, he hadn’t forgot. He’s just paused his dreams for life. Forward! His new motto. Help people and help change things. But he hadn’t forgot his family’s teachings either. Love thy neighbor. And his mom’s most outrageous and surprising sayings. They broke out the window and stole my purse and stole all our money. I guess they needed it more than I did. Forgiveness. Does that sound like an American to you sir? Rhetorical? Let me answer President Trump. Here’s the new 61-year-old Forever American Dreamer! A new acronym. F.A.D.
And his view is finally this, and this is the why, the how, and his beliefs, and only his beliefs of what America has become. And I’d like to share it with you as a person who lived it.
So, while our Queen of the Socialist oversight committee helps Rome and dances but two steps from the Office of our Leader. Rome California burns. But of course, she’s busy with the pandemic finger pointing. Stuck with an impeachment hangover, but she manages to finally push the first Stimulus through for us Worms. And of course, throws in some pork mills for dead billionaire bootleggers and other assorted anonymous felons. Tax dollars of the Worms and a Shining New Statue and Monument for the Elite Kings of the game of Washmethrone. Of course, yes, yes, I know it’s not nice to speak ill of the…elderly, but if you can’t see the confused look in your honorable opponents eyes most days, he, well, he may be a little lost. And if you don’t know the difference between million and thousand? Okay once? I’ll give him one. Maybe two gaffes but. Do you want him in charge of the red button. No sir that is not the Easy button. And while Congress argues about what to spend, who gets it, or deficits, national debt, or immigration. I see numbers that I didn’t even know existed. A million trillion? And I look at history on YouTube and my fav President Reagan debating immigration and defense spending, imports, of course it was Japan then. 40 years ago! Mondale is trying to make the Immaculate incumbent look bad, and the Gipper turns it into a shining moment. But, you see, he was verified. And your opponent is currently older that when President Verified left office. Need I say more. And no, I do not mean to demean or vilify your opponent. But it’s time for some straight talk in my opinion. Because we’re at a crossroads. While people I know, and love go hungry money to buy food. And are dying because of this atrocity. Not to mention harming their bodies for lack of proper nutrition. And we let them. Because it’s not my job. Or I can’t help. It’s the governments job. Or there just bums, homeless drug addicts. It’s there on fault. And the beat goes on. While our elected officials have jobs that have no term limits, they make millions, have top line health care, and vote themselves raises. And I would too because America is asleep at the Icommunicator. Spoiled, fat and lazy. Or uninterested or just beaten down. Then they stall to make you look good or bad or because lobbyists poke money somewhere or wait for Super Pac money to come hit the bank for next campaign. Oblivious to the people who elected them. Remember me dead Kennedys I built you a monument. Yes, I hope these peasants don’t wakeup either. Of which party do I speak. Well it’s the Swamp Rat Party. After all it’s the year of the rat. And as you know sir it’s a dang big swamp. Super-sized with plans for more additions. Republicans, democrats, matters not, what is it? Oh hell, it’s a duck. But some folks will say it’s a mallard or a wood duck. Or they apologize for the delay in duck season. Or just duck! People you know it’s coming. So, shut up and bend over and take it like we trained you. Vote but if we don’t like who you pick, we’ll change the way you cook duck. Or just no duck for you Chuck. So, there you go. Insanity, brainwashing, and defiance all combined. A bowl. New dish. For everyone. Can I get an Amen. No, I’m an atheist that offends. And reporting, the evening news with Walter Cronkite. No. The five alive and not reporting, opining, and creating fair and balanced potential pork for the elite to throw our money at the right way. The Swamp Rat’s way. And they are good at spending our money. Just ask our national debt.
They’ll also bailout General Motors or any big dog with crypto coins for future campaign fodder to the tune of 50 billion. After all it’s not what you know. Bailout Chrysler, banks, other crooks, defund anything with God on it of L America on it. Enable people to kill themselves by throwing money at everything in the name of help. Enabling addicts and alcoholics to overdose so they can ensure a voting bloc. Until they punch the big ticket in the sky. No one tells me what to do you say? Let me splain it to you Lucy, they bought you a long time ago, lockstep, vote, and government breast of which you suckle. But we care. We feel your pain, sayeth Slick. Sorry back to GM. They paid it back except for the 11 billion lost in a stock transaction. Can I get part of that refund. Unreported debt or mismanagement? Please? No? I understand. You wrote it off. Maybe you should have slept it off first! Before you took pen in hand. Let’s not forget Presidential investigations against opposition parties. That’s always a big party and a cash cow for someone’s brother-in-law’s lawyer. Let’s bus them in for this and party like it’s 2424 with an open bar. And dancers with live entertainment. Front row for CNN and CNBC or People magazine. But the ordinary, average, below average people of America can starve, die, or wish to die, even pray to die because they have nothing. No help, no money, no family, no America. Their LIVES DO NOT MATTER. And they know it. They are reminded every day. Spit on, laughed at, but most of all ignored. It’s a fate worse than death. So, the American political ship floats on to new undiscovered lands and has a new possible group to poll. The new American. The Hopeless American. And who did the Hopeless American vote for Brian? Exit poll data shows he was a little intoxicated by election booze Mike. Let’s switch to New York state. Let’s ask Senator Gung Ho here. Yes Mike, let’s. Yes, after all Mike, we gave them free government insurance that would provide all Americans with basic coverage. And gee thanks for it. Wish I could afford it or figure out how to fill out the forms. Because being poor I don’t have the available funds. Cause I prefer eating. What else do they want? Something that would help us get insurance cause I’m sick. Yes, you said it would work and you gave us a document and took about half our rights with it. Doctors now transmit every history of every illness, sickness, medical procedure, pill prescribed and notes of patients words to our Secret Private Cloud no one floats on government entity. Don’t worry we’re with the gov and here to love and help you. You also made it ten times as expensive for employers or families. And even with the feds help I still can’t afford it and haven’t had health care in 10 years. Since I had once lived the dream of owning a restaurant, my own business. But I did manage to qualify for a government cell phone. I found out what living forever, and immortality means. I can call and not ever get through to a human being even after the second coming. If now I could even find a telephone number on the website to call. That is, it if I had the internet. Or my government phone has enough data. I could buy data. But then there’s the money thing. But I can still Tweet like the President, with proper data. Let me be the first to say thanks. But I have a question how come it gives a notification and it dings like it knows I’m there. Or if I get close and touch the screen looking at the time? Not once but every single time. New model? Defective maybe? Just rumors, there was that CIA thing. No sir not worried at all. I trust our government.
Sorry for the length of this letter sir. But I feel it’s important for some reason. Lastly, the penultimate chapter of this letter. The above friend, who borrowed my truck was pulled over just last Monday the 14th and he ticketed, for and I am not joking. For trespassing. No sir an aspiring writer with a groovy imagination could not make up this reality in which we have evolved. The officer said he was parked on someone’s property; Josh was trying to get the truck and trailer off the road to not get hit or interfere with traffic. And therefore, trespassing he was trespassing by obeying our Sworn to protect officer. Welcome to the twilight zone. My truck was towed, to protect me in case it was stolen. All because he didn’t have lights on the small utility trailer that he was pulling that contained construction material for the job he was doing. He was called a thief by the cop on several occasions. Plus, I guess he needed a note from me saying it was okay for him to borrow it. Although the proper documentation was in the glove box. Josh couldn’t find them. He was just a little upset. So, the friendly officer impounded truck, trailer, and tried to provoke Josh. And btw, charged me double on the towing bill for truck and one for the six-foot trailer. And Officer Serve found a way to write a ticket to cover something and get some funds for our broke state. All this time made him wait five hours while doing whatever, his investigation and the determination he made. Then he just left Josh there without a ride. Forty miles from home. He didn’t allow him to call me to verify said story. Would they like to borrow a cell government cell phone? I had to pay 90 dollars to get the vehicles out of impound because Josh didn’t have the cash. He has since repaid that cash. So, when they say no good deed goes unpunished, I indeed, feel that pain. And please don’t get lost on someone’s property and try to ask for directions. Have no google maps because of a poor signal or lack of data during a pandemic. Especially that of a local county deputy. Oh, but I regress. That’s another letter. Maybe longer. Because I believe in one thing truth. Transparency. And I fight my own battles.
In closing, let me say I am a survivor and I’ll will make it! By hook or by crook. And you have my permission to quote me. I just had to get this off my chest. Because I’m an American. And I still believe in our system or government. So, I wrote my President for help. And to share my insight. My elected representative and President of the United States. Because I am part of, we the people. And it’s my constitutional right. And I believe we need something in this Nation. I wrote this for Josh, thirty-five years of age and his children because I’d like to help start Change. I’ll call it a Change in Love attitude. And a vision of love to treat everyone like I’d like to be treated. Respect for our differences. Love for our brothers. And an open mind to love and commit to learn to love and respect each other’s dignity and history. And a agree to disagree loophole. Your perfect right. And a Brainstorm session with average, hurting, needy, forgotten Americans. A focus group of sorts. What does the Average, Needy, Forgotten, Middle class human being, of any culture want and need from there government. A comment box on an elected servants website for feedback. But first expectations. Clearly defined. What are your expectations as voters. What would like to see changed and what do you need help with? And hold them to those expectations. Every time. The term limit opiate they refused to swallow. And yes, I did ask what I can do for my country. And I’m asking my countries elected leader for some help for other Americans. And this is my answer. Because Mr. President I’d like to be reasonably happy and live out the rest of my life in peace. And I’ll help you anyway I can. But I’m stuck and don’t know what to do sir. Please help the forgotten! Please.
And I hope this rambling of a Late American Dreamer letter finds its way to you somehow. My father gave his life for this country. And his son got lost in America for a period of years without his guidance. And he has no remembrance of that drafted Private every being in his life. I feel like he would be proud of me and how I turned out. Even though it took some time. But he remembers being held over the Staff Sergeants casket by his uncle because he was not tall enough to see his Father in the casket. And he has listened to the retelling of how grown men wept openly as the not yet three-year-old man-child uttered, when is daddy going to wake up Uncle Toney. I miss my daddy. Thank you, Mr. President. And may God Bless you and this great Country. As Edward Bulwer-Lytton penned speaking of the press. The Pen is mightier than the Sword. So, let them press this for you and us and the U. S. Let’s renew hope and pray to something, somewhere, soon, President Trump. Thank you once again. And Roll Tide Roll! Sir did you say Ditto? I knew it!
With appreciation and respect,
Roger Glyn Hayes
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P.S. Mr. President I must add these links.
It’s on the net so it must be so.