First in the nation

One of my uncles has an interesting column in the newspaper today. As a former (30-plus years) New Hampshire resident and in some ways a reluctant Massachusetts one with a family that's been involved with the only statewide newspaper for generations, the first in the nation primary status of NH has always been close to my heart.

My very first political memory is of the Reagan campaign my uncle mentions; I recall standing just below the doorway to the kitchen (you had to step down to get to the dining room and the rest of her house) at my Grammy Mc's. The house was a flurry of activity, and filled with very serious-looking grownups, none of whom even noticed I was there. Except of course when Ronnie came over and shook my hand. There was snow outside and it seemed like the house emptied out as quickly as it had filled up, Reagan leaving in a scatter of popping flashbulbs and a convoy of dark automobiles.

Of course once I was old enough to vote I turned Democrat and I've never looked back.

I wasn't born the year the Union Leader made Edmund Muskie cry but I felt the sting of it about 30 years later when, while working at another NH publication, I realized one of my fellow employees, with whom I met regularly, was his son, and I stupidly told him who my grandfather was.

He was never as nice to me after that. Ah, politics.