A very dear friend of ours is a GM retiree. After countless hours working on the assembly line most of his adult life, he finally was able to retire just a few years ago.

He and his family agonize over fears of what the future will hold, every time contract negotiations roll around again. They are helpless captives of the system at this point, since retirees seem to be given no voice. They have had their health benefits changed so many times, they’ve probably lost count – except to notice that each change means less quality and quantity of care allowed. During negotiations, active workers understandably worry first about their own, younger families, leaving fewer and fewer crumbs for the retirees.

I rarely hear them complain. Their reactions more often are summed up by a downward glance and a shake of the head, maybe a simple, “I don’t know.”

These are hard working, deeply caring, warm-hearted folks, wizards at making do, and knowing how to do their own home repairs, grow their own food, can and freeze, sew and mend, wallpaper and paint et al. like pros.

Wonderful parents whose kids are now grown and have their own families. Members of the “sandwich generation” lovingly still caring for their parents also – having grown up coal-miner’s kids. Black lung: yes. Coal mining hardships of the past: yes. They’re all too familiar, having already lost three of their parents’ generation, and even enduring health problems themselves secondary to the coal connection.

Both of these remarkable people only were able to afford high school formal education. Yet they carry wisdom far beyond that of many we know with PhDs and MBAs and salaries to match. Their generosity knows no bounds. I find myself trying to lecture the wife to try not to work so hard, but she just nods and we both know she cannot ignore her own ailing mother’s health and emotional needs. So she keeps going, sacrificing herself because that is how she was raised. The family always comes first, she ever willing to help anyone who needs something she knows she can provide.

They vote. The dear lady is the one I mentioned after the election, who e-mailed me, elated, because she had convinced her ailing mother to vote for Obama, in spite of the hate/fear nonsense spewed across the nation this fall by McCain Inc. We all cheered at the idea of frail little grandma spontaneously broadening the concept by insisting on voting Democratic throughout her entire ballot, anger finally tearing a huge gaping hole in McCain/Palin’s curtain of fear. Grandma had probably never before considered voting for anyone of color, out of fear.

I applaud this family’s spirit, heart-felt generosity, and sense of personal responsibility, and we treasure our mutual close friendship.

I detest the attitude shown them by the people in our society who would take advantage and abuse their trust.