And the next President of the United States of America is…
Mark Rossi, a member of Lincoln Junior-Senior High School’s sound crew, had the entire student body sitting on the edge of their seats.
His voice crackled through the intercom, carrying the weight of anticipation as he prepared to announce the results of our mock presidential election — held the week before Americans would cast their real votes on the first Tuesday of November 1980.
With forty-eight percent of the votes cast, Jimmy Carter will be heading back to the White House for a second term, according to our tabulated results.
Ronald Reagan came in second place with thirty-four percent, and John B. Anderson came in a distant third, garnering sixteen percent of the electorate. The remaining two percent was divvied up between a half-dozen write-in candidates.
Half the students in my homeroom — under the watchful eye of Mr. Richard “Rich” Bartolomeo in the south hall near the second-floor bridge — erupted into cheers. The other half sat motionless, their faces set in deep scowls, looking like bumps on a log.
If looks could kill, the jubilant merrymakers — gloating over their candidate’s hard-fought victory — would’ve been toast.
Among the 1,193 registered student voters, 612 identified as Democrats, 348 as Republicans, and 210 as Independents. The remaining 23 had no party affiliation.
Is it any wonder that the Democratic candidates swept every position on our fictitious ballot?
That’s the thing about mock elections — they don’t count in the real world.
As October faded into the rich hues of fallen leaves, idle chit-chat around school took a sharp turn toward politics. With registration for the upcoming mock election underway in our social studies classes, conversations shifted from weekend plans to party platforms.
“Eyes to the front,” Mrs. Kathleen Cole instructed, waving a stack of papers before passing them out. “These are registration forms for this year’s mock presidential election. If you’d like to take part in the political process, fill one out and return it to me no later than next Wednesday.”
“Psst!” Robert “Magsy” Magnifico exclaimed, catching my attention as the mimeographed sheets made their way down each row. “Are you planning to vote in this year’s election?”
“You better believe it,” this mild-mannered freshman whispered, glancing across the aisle at the black-haired Italian, his expression quizzical. “I’ve voted in every mock election since Richard Nixon’s reelection in 1972 — back when I was in first grade.”
“Me too,” the top cop’s youngest son chuckled, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face as he thought back to his first time participating in the electoral process. “If memory serves, I was the only registered Republican in my entire first-grade class at West End Elementary School — and, let me just say, that was an interesting experience.”
An exaggerated sneeze from the other side of the classroom drew our attention to Robert “Robbie” G. Brough Jr. Sporting his signature goofy grin, he shot us a thumbs-up, clearly approving of the registration form in his hands.
It was official — by the end of the class period, three students had registered as Republicans for the forthcoming educational exercise, designed to teach us about our most fundamental right as American citizens.
After leaving the serene atmosphere of civics class — where they had proudly placed an “R” next to their names — these three musketeers found themselves facing hostile forces from the opposition party. As we hurried through the lunch line, our compartmentalized trays were filled with the precision of a General Motors assembly line in Detroit, Michigan.
Would you like a dash of lubricated oil with those auto parts?
“Did you say you’re voting for Ronald Reagan?” Jeffery “Jeff” Olinger blurted out, just as a lunch lady slapped a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his platter. “He needs to fade into the sunset — just like in one of his Hollywood productions — because he’s nothing more than a washed-up actor trying to claw his way back into the spotlight.”
“Preach it, brother,” Alan “Fud” Franz interjected, turning toward me to add his two cents to the venomous political discourse. “My dad says he should go back to hosting General Electric Theater because he’s definitely not cut out to be a politician — he’s nothing more than a showman.”
“And I suppose you’d like to go back to the days of those long gas lines?” I retorted, flashing my free lunch hole punch ticket at the cashier. “I’ll never forget the day my big brother and I rode with our dad to fill up the tank — only to run out of gas before we even reached the pumps.”
Luckily, a bunch of Ellwood City Wolverines football players piled out of a Volkswagen Beetle and pushed our car into the service station.
“They’re talking out of their butts,” Robbie snickered as we made our way to our six-seater lunch table next to the south exit. “Apparently, their source neglected to mention that the Republican nominee served two consecutive terms as Governor of California. He’s got plenty of experience as a leader — not just a former movie star.”
“Besides, you’ve got nothing to worry about,” the leader of the pack chimed in, catching up to us after paying for his meal. “You both remember what happened during the Pennsylvania Primary this past spring — they forgot their school-issued ID cards and couldn’t even vote.”
How would that be for irony? It would be like history repeating itself.
Did either of you find it odd that Bruce Thalmann remained silent during the entire conversation?
I think he’s a Democrat, and didn’t want to upset us.
Over the next three weeks, political jousts between junior and senior high school students became a common spectacle. They erupted at every turn — inside the cafeteria, the classroom, the gym locker room, and even the restroom.
Thinking back to the morning announcements on All Hallows’ Eve, when the results of our mock presidential election echoed through the intercom, I remember our Democrat classmates wasting no time rubbing their victory in our faces.
But those same classmates weren’t nearly as ecstatic the morning after the actual election.
In fact, they didn’t even want to talk about it when the Republican students — myself included — walked into the educational facility with our heads held high. My face was lit up like a Christmas tree, and I wasn’t about to dim it for anyone.
Ronald Reagan had soundly defeated Jimmy Carter in an electoral landslide, securing 489 electoral votes to Carter’s 49, winning 44 states, and claiming 50.7 percent of the popular vote.
The shift was undeniable — what had been a heated debate across our school campus mirrored the national sentiment, as the country ushered in a new era of leadership.
In the end, the mock election was just that — mock. But the real one? That’s where we got the last laugh.