Last summer, I visited my old hometown of Parma, Ohio, for my 50th high school reunion. I reconnected with some old friends, went to dinner with my cousins in a surprisingly lively downtown Cleveland, and took the opportunity to look around a bit. Much of Parma seems preserved in amber from 1974, when I left. Audrey’s Delicatessen, where we bought penny candy after swimming at State Road Pool, is still there (as is the pool). Parma Meats (excellent kielbasa), ParmaTown shopping center, the Last Stop Inn, they are all still in business. St. Josaphat Ukrainian Catholic Church, with its shiny golden domes, where my grandmother’s funeral was held in 1984, still sits near the intersection of State and Snow Roads. Bunting with the Ukrainian colors and a “We stand with Ukraine” sign out front were the only noticeable differences.
After World War II, returning veterans along with a multitude of Eastern European refugees built their homes, families and lives in the new quarter-acre tracts that sprang up along the State Rd. corridor. What was once farmland became suburbia. By the 1970s, Parma was the ninth largest city in Ohio.
It was also among the most segregated and red-lined communities in the country: No Blacks allowed, period. I had a friend George I worked with at the Cleveland Public Library, a black kid from the East Side, who I invited to a party at our house (my parents were out of town, so…). When George found out where I lived, he said “No way! I don’t want to get shot!” I thought he was being silly, but he only consented to come when I said he could hide as we drove through town. Not five minutes after we arrived at our house and George hurried in the through the side door, the Parma police showed up. There was much flushing of contraband and dumping of liquor, but it turned out that the police were “just checking to make sure everything was alright”. Clearly, one of our neighbors had called them after seeing a Black person in the neighborhood.
Politically, Parma was a conservative stronghold, and in a city where so much seems the same, that also hasn’t changed. I voted for George McGovern there in my first-ever presidential election (1972), but I was probably the only person who did. Parma went for Trump in both 2016 and 2020. Even J.D. Vance’s take on the Russian invasion of Ukraine, which I thought would be the death knell for his campaign, given the number of Parmanians (Parmalites?) of Ukrainian descent, didn’t prevent him from being elected as Senator in 2022. I don’t know if Vance got a plurality of votes in Parma, but he must have gotten enough of them to win.
So it came as a pleasant surprise to this East Coast elitist that Ohioans saw through an obvious attempt to maintain minority rule in the state with the defeat of Issue 1. The choice of an August date for the vote was not accidental: It was hoped by backers to ensure a low voter turnout. They were wrong. The voters of Ohio understood the dangers Issue 1 presented, and came out in force to have their say. The defeat of Issue 1, which, if passed, would have required a 60% edge for any amendments to the state constitution, is both a victory for abortion rights activists who seek to amend the state constitution guaranteeing that right in November, and also opens a path to a more impartial redistricting. Ohio has struggled with the current highly gerrymandered maps, despite voters having passed redistricting reform measures in 2015 and 2018, with roadblocks to redistricting leading all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.
I have always suspected that democracy was an inconvenience to the modern G.O.P., and events over the last six years have only confirmed those suspicions. So on behalf of the rest of the country, thank you, Ohio. In protecting yourselves, you strengthen the rest of us.
