I’m a traditional American family man, less than two weeks away from my 40th birthday. I have a wonderful family, a career that I love, and I’m now able to save money for the first time since I was in grade school.
You may ask, why did I vote for Donald Trump? Great question, and I’ll get to that.
The reason that I voted for Donald Trump began to take shape and form a long long time ago in my life, decades before he ran.
All throughout my childhood, I was pretty much a straight A student. A few B’s made their way in to the report card once in a while, but quite seldom.
That was until only a few months into my Freshman year of high school. That’s right, the winter of 1994. The winter I started smoking pot. I was the last holdout in my class to give into the peer pressure. And I’m talking about rural central Maine, no where even remotely near the big cities of the world.
Much less needed to say, the winter of 1994 was the time when I received my first C grade on any report card in my life, and things only went downhill from there.
I soon began taking school less & less seriously, and finding pot to smoke after school, more & more seriously.
The reason I’m delving in to this is because that was the era of my life that contributed to my initial view of the real political world.
Back in my elementary years where I excelled, I was very interested in the fame and the glory of the history of the world, and with that, the glory and history of The United States Of America. We had once been a great nation. But when I hit my pot smoking years, I became awakened to the fact that the political world had turned into one huge dog & pony show. A great big circus act.
I began to realize that Presidents and other important figures of power, were merely puppets who’s strings were controlled by others with true wealth & power.
It absolutely disgusted me. It turned my stomach upside down. It robbed me of my glorious views of our once great country.
My father served overseas in the late 1960’s, during The Vietnam War. He and his brothers in arms were spat on when they returned home from fighting for our rights to God & country. It’s needless to say that he was a proud conservative, and I always carried his views in my heart & soul.
But all those years later, as I was becoming an adult of my own, my views began to change with the ever changing world around me.
By the time of the big Y2K scare at the turn of the millennium, I was nearing my 21st birthday. By that time, my disgust for the corruption of the political world had grown so massive, that I began to lose hope that the world could reverse the damage.
I always had faith that the world could get back on a solid track, but I believed that it would take a Noah’s Ark style cleansing of the Earth by God type of scenario to reverse the global upheaval of greed & corruption.
So, during the fall of 1999, I began preparing for the big Y2K crash. Not only preparing for it, praying for it. Nothing would have made me happier at that time in my life, than an all out system failure type crash, that would force us back into the Stone Age. A reason for a fresh start.
One millisecond after 12:00 a.m. on January 1st, 2000… nothing happened.
Every clock, every computer, every digital screen on the face of the Earth, rolled right over to the year 2000, as if nothing had ever skipped a beat.
Tuesday morning, September 11th, 2001.
A fine, glorious morning. Only a golden brush in the hand of God himself, could paint such a beautiful blue backdrop sky.
That was of course until some people decided to do something.
Now, my hopes for the world were really tossed & turned upside down.
Birds of the sky fueled with malice, flew so far away, yet so close to home. Not without mentioning that some people drove their Canadian rental cars right down the 201 Maine artery, a mere six miles from my front doorstep.
How did my view of America and the world around it hold true at that moment?
It only got more confused and more hopeful for a fresh new cleansing of the Earth.
Fast forward to the long feared end of The Mayan Calendar. December 21st, 2012.
I was already one full term into the presidency of Barack Hussein Obama, and I then wished for a fresh new start more than ever before in my life. Not because of the color of old Barry’s skin, but because of the fact that I could see right through him. I could see his directives & motives for the future of our country as clear as crystal. I didn’t care if his skin was purple with pink polka dots, he was bad for America.
So, Mr. America himself got his re-election, December 21st came and went, and I continued to move on with my life.
At this time in my life, my only hope, wish & prayer, was that someone or something would swoop down from heaven and save us all before it was too late.
By the spring of 2015, I’d lost every possible bit of hope that we could turn things around. It was looking quite clear that good old Hillary was going to get her duly owed chance at the big seat, and then it would truly be all over for America.
I was smart enough, instinctive enough, maybe even psychic enough to know that once Hillary got her claws on The White House, it would all be over forever.
I wanted to stand on the top of a mountain and scream for every soul to hear, “Is everyone out there insane?” “Are you all blind?” “Am I the only one who can see what’s about to happen?!”
It was soon to be over. I thought, “Party hard this year everyone. No sense saving anything for later. Use it all up now, while you’ve got the chance. Because anything that you’ve got left, she’s gonna take it away from you on day one. Your possessions, your rights, your life, your soul. It’s all going to become property of Queen Madame Empress President Hillary Rodham Clinton”.
My hopes were gone. After the 2017 inauguration, Michelle Obama stated something along the lines of “I now know what it feels like to live without hope”…
You and your husband haven’t the first clue on Earth what it feels like to live without hope.
My hopes were truly gone. A faint, distant memory. So faint in fact that I tried to recall such thoughts & prayers…
Am I the only one who feels this way?…
Isn’t there anyone who will stand by my side?…
Is there not a soul on Earth who has the guts to kick political correctness to the curb, and speak their true heart, mind & soul?
These were my questions and prayers for years that were so faint, so faded, so washed away from the tides of corruption, that I was on the verge of letting go of my grasp of the final string of hope…
That was until June 16th, 2015.
The day that Donald J. Trump descended the escalator.
The day that my dreams were acknowledged.
The day that my hope was restored.
The day that my prayers were answered.
So, for any Never Trumper out there, who thinks I’m just another racist, bigoted, Nazi deplorable… following the Trump train like a blind fool, you haven’t the first clue in the world why I support him.
Why I’ve supported him from day one.
Why I will continue to support him until the day I die.
Because Donald J. Trump is the one person, whom I prayed for most of my life, for God to send down to save us all.
If you’re not a Trump supporter, you may never understand this.
However, God has answered my prayers, and now I pray that he will awaken you to the truth of the betrayals that you’ve suffered for years of your life…
God Bless you…
God Bless President Donald J. Trump…
God Bless us all.
Opinions by Ryan A. Murphy
June 2nd, 2019
“Take It Or Leave It.”