The Ohio Vote

I understand all the yammering about Ohio and the relentless hedging about which way the finicky state will vote. I had my campaign swing through Ohio. My issue wasn't presidential; it was soybeans. Ohio growers were voting to decide if they would compell every soybean grower in Ohio to pay one cent per bushel to promote use of their crop and fund research to improve it.

 It was a tender, touchy issue. Major soybean-producing states like Iowa and Illinois required that their growers pay into what they called their state "soybean checkoff" program. Growers in mandatory check-off states felt that states like Ohio that didn't pay were riding their coattails.

I worked for the American Soybean Association. It wanted Ohio to participate. State checkoff programs funneled a lot of money to the national organization. The American Soybean Association sent me to Ohio for a one-week campaign assistance stint. My mission was to drive around a checkoff-friendly Ohio soybean grower and make the introductions as he met with newspaper editors and radio broadcasters.

My most vivid recollection of the week was the white Lincoln Towncar that I drove. I could barely see through the steering wheel. The parking lot attendant had to explain how to use the power seat to scoot myself close enough to reach the gas pedal. It drove like a boat. I was a sad and pitiful sight bumping down country roads while trying to read poorly folded road maps.

During that time, a lot of American Soybean Association touched down in Ohio. They joined with the locals to lobby the press, glad-hand the broadcasters and work one-on-one with obstinate growers hoping to convine them to pay to promote their soybeans. As a group, we had a great confidence that Ohio would sway our way. 

But Ohio growers said "no." By seven votes, they turned down the soybean checkoff. Slapped, the American Soybean Association changed tactics. It lobbied and won a national soybean checkoff. Growers in Ohio and everywhere else suddenly had to pay to promote. Stung, they collected the money, but then chose not to give the American Soybean Association nearly as much funding as it expected. The national association imploded. It gave back a building it bought. And a lot of staff, including me, lost our jobs.

Those seven Ohio votes changed my life. If the vote had gone the other way, the American Soybean Association might have never lobbied for a national checkoff; it might have never imploded. Perhaps, I'd still be working at a job not near as rewarding as the life I have now. Even worse, maybe I would be driving a Lincoln towncar.

Vote on Tuesday. Somewhere, someone's vote will change a life. It could be your vote; it could be your life.