Dear Diary

Diary Entry: Howard Jones

            I’ll be honest with you. I thought by now I’d be sitting in my deathbed. My name is Howard Jones. I’m a retired WWI vet. I had many good friends die in the war. I consider myself lucky to be alive. After coming back from the war, it was a little difficult to adjust. Finding a job wasn’t so bad, but the real hard part was finding some decent medical help. Right now, I’m 72 and President Johnson has thing going on called “Medicare”. It’s really helped my lot. My heart condition has been getting better because of Johnson’s Medicare.

            My doctor, Dr. Robinson, is a swell guy.  He has put me on some medication that helps alleviate the pain from my heart. I can say that my kids have never been happier. Thanks to the medication, I may even see my grandkids. My oldest daughter told me that her boyfriend proposed to her. If only he was actually tough, instead of some white-collar accountant. Ah, well. If she’s happy, I’m happy. I owe my life to Johnson. If it weren’t for the Medicare, I’d probably be six feet underground right now. In war, there’s something I learned: If death is staring at you right in your face, don’t stay quiet. Scream in his. I can’t exactly scream at my heart, so I’ll take the next best thing. God bless you Johnson and God bless this Great Society. 

 

Diary Entry: Jean Smith

            Being a teacher is harder than a student might think. Here I was, Jean Smith, struggling to help these poor preschoolers. Many of these preschoolers have “disadvantages” about them. One of them, Jimmy, bless his little heart, has ADHD, yet tries his very best to be a good student. I’ve met so many wonderful children who couldn’t even get into preschool because of their disabilities. It’s truly tragic and breaks my heart, as both a mother and a teacher. Thankfully, President Johnson and the Congress created this thing called “Project Head Start”. It was passed a few months ago.

            I first heard about Project Head Start from my teaching assistant. She told me that it would fund a preschool program to little youngsters who were unfortunate enough to have these disabilities. I remember when the first batch of new students came here. One of them was a sweet little girl name Sally. She told me how happy her mother was when she found out her daughter could go to school. I actually did end up meeting her mother. She was in tears, so happy that her daughter had a head start for her future. 

Diary Entry: Seymour Gilligan

            Who knew life in the big city could almost cause a guy like me to die of thirst? Seymour Gilligan’s my name. A lot of people may call me a “bum” or a “hobo”. I think those terms are a little harsh. I think “unfortunate fellow” is more…polite if you ask me. As you could imagine, living in the streets of a big city is not exactly good for one’s health. I “live” in an alley that’s right next to a deli. Suffice to say, I know the butcher. He’s a swell guy, gives me food from time to time. The real problem I had for the longest time was getting some clean drinking water. Also, the air was kind of suffering from all that pollution the factories were spewing out. Try being an elderly man who is suffering from lung problems on top of poor hygiene. It’s not exactly easy.

            Thankfully, President Johnson finally did something about the air and water quality here. He created “The Water Quality Act and Clean Air Acts” to finally do something about this little dilemma.  Granted,  it hasn’t made me a millionaire, living of off luxuries or anything, but it certainly has made my days as bum just a bit brighter. My hats off to you, Mr. President.