Senator John Pippy (Image via Wikipedia)

I didn’t look like much at the age of 19. My tall, skinny frame sprouted into the floppiest mop I ever wore. Lord knows why I made an appointment with the congressman.

His name was John Pippy, a young politician who had taken out a local incumbent a few months earlier. The Pennsylvania representative took youth and energy to Harrisburg, but he also kept an office in my small hometown. I was a history major, so I stumbled in to check out his operation one day.

The secretary said he wasn’t in that day but could she help me? I told her I didn’t really need anything, just wanted to say hi to, um, Representative Pippy. I think we freaked each other out a bit, but she was paid to be nice to constituents no matter what they looked like.

“Would you like to make an appointment?” she asked.

“Uh, okay,” I asserted.

The following week I peeled myself from a friend’s floor to make my 10:30 a.m. appointment with the congressman.

“You’re going where?” my friend asked.

I told him.

“Why”

“I dunno. To meet him.”

A short time later I sat across from Representative Pippy. “What can I do for you,” he asked. Continue Reading…