I grew up in a family that struggled financially. My father worked 3 part-time jobs, and there was never enough money. He drove the old car to his jobs and Mom was stuck in the house with my 3 brothers and me. Food stamps helped some, and I remember those 5-pound blocks of government cheese. Eventually, Dad landed a union job at the Thomas Hill Power Plant. What a Godsend! Union wages with benefits! Talk about a boost for a working family—this was it.
For 10 years, I worked hard to live what is still called The American Dream. I owned a small business; my workers and I traveled the country installing granite in motels. I had 3 crews with 3 to 4 workers per crew. Instead of grabbing more profit, I paid my employees a good wage and provided health insurance, workman’s comp, and a safe working environment.
And in December 2007 came the burst of the 8 trillion dollar housing bubble, and you all remember the years of recession that followed. How did your family make out through that mess? People sure didn’t have money to travel, and the motel industry took a huge hit. I didn’t get paid for some jobs I had completed, and, as the months rolled by, there were fewer and fewer jobs coming in.
I tried to hang on; the last year, I paid myself only eleven hundred dollars. In 2010, I let the last employee go, and I officially dissolved my business.
It was gone—all I had worked for, my own piece of The American Dream. The recession had killed it. And what caused the recession? You remember! Bankers had lent high-interest mortgage money to people classified as high-risk lendees. The bankers knew this was dicey, but the profits were too much for them to pass up. The recession was fueled by greed, and it just killed workers. People lost jobs and they lost homes. And the bankers? You remember. They lost nothing; they walked away even richer.
I have been married for 25 years to my wife, Dawn, and we have one daughter. Dawn supported me while I redefined my life. I worked my heart out—selling cars, and doing construction jobs for friends—but I couldn’t catch up financially. I looked for real work, but there were no jobs in 2010. I felt broken.
A miracle came for me just as it had for my father: In 2016, I had the opportunity to join a union. I had seen the benefits of a union job in my father’s life. With today’s worker-abusing attitudes, collective bargaining is more important than ever.
I was in the union, and I wasn’t broken any longer; I joined grassroots organizations to make changes, regardless of how small those changes might be. I helped organize petition drives. I am inspired and energized by people and their struggles. I support labor, and this is paramount to my campaign and to the person I am today.
I worked with my union brothers and sisters to overturn Missouri’s so-called Right to Work law. Let’s call this corporate law what it was: The right to work for smaller wages, for decreased benefits, for less voice in the workplace. You may have seen me collecting signatures to put it on the ballot so the people will have a say in what is right for Missouri workers. When the Missouri Legislature pushed it through, they had no input from voters or from workers, but they had plenty of input from special interests and corporate money.
I’ve always thought the political system is rigged. I voted, but I wasn’t involved. And then came 2016. Bernie Sanders inspired me: I got involved. And now I am running for office.
I am a deeply concerned citizen. I want to see a better Missouri for my daughter. I want to see a better Missouri for all children and for all of us. I want to carry your voice to the Missouri House of Representatives.
I am a concerned citizen; I’m not a career politician, so I won’t say to you what the real politicians promise. Have you noticed how they all say it won’t be “politics as usual” if they’re elected? And then, have you noticed how it plays out? Is anyone else fed up besides me?
A vote for Adrian Plank is a vote for all of us.