Last week marked the end of an era with the death of President Ronald Reagan.

Eulogies were read, flowers were placed, dignitaries and everyday people lined up together to say their goodbyes.

I did manage to watch most of the services but not just because he was a past president, but because he was my president. Reagan was the first president I ever voted for.

By the time the debates and real campaigning began, I was in college, and I am embarrassed to admit not really paying much attention to the whole process.

My father began his mantra of how the country needed this change and most importantly how it was my civic duty to vote.

He reeled me in with the line that I soon came to laugh at.

With a straight face he actually told me I could vote for whomever I wanted; all he asked was that I make an informed decision.

All I had to do was read the newspaper, watch the news, make up my own mind and go pull the little lever.

What a golden opportunity, a chance to disagree with my father, a chance to set my course in life, be an adult and vote for whomever I darn well pleased.

I began to read about both Carter and Reagan, I watched the news at night in my dorm room and I listened when others where talking about why they were voting for a certain person.

The big day finally arrived; I drove home that afternoon after class to vote.

I did not want to vote by absentee ballot, I wanted to draw the curtain and pull the lever myself.

My father and I drove down to the courthouse and you could tell it was taking all he had to make casual conversation. Not one word was said about the election.

We signed in and headed to respective booths; he had already prepped me on how everything worked. As I stepped into the booth, he broke.

His hand on my shoulder and said, &uot;You vote for whoever you want you know, but, Reagan is the right person to vote for.&uot;

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. I knew it was going to be to much for him that he would have to put his 2 cents in.

As I exited the polls feeling rather impressed with myself for casting a vote that would mingle with thousands of others and change the course of the nation, there stood my dad with a sheepish look on his face.

That night as we watched every second of the election coverage, I confessed to him that I was going to vote for Reagan anyway.

I never watch an election unfold without thinking of Ronald Reagan and my dad, who taught me that it isn’t just important to vote but to make an informed vote and that your vote does count.

We haven’t agreed on every election since then and we often differ on party lines. But I never miss an election or a chance to add my vote to the pages of history.

Christina Hall

writes a weekly lifestyle column for The Democrat. E-mail her at

christina.hall@natchezdemocrat.com

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