Current Issue In the days following the election, Rast and Smucker set to work. With a cohort of childhood friends and neighbors, the pair called an emergency mass meeting in Lancaster to prevent fear and hatred from taking root in the community. More than 300 people showed up, eager to shatter their shared sense of political impotence.
T he morning after the presidential election in November 2016, Annie Weaver, like millions around the country, was in a stupor. “I remember coming to work that day and I stopped at the Wawa and I didn’t even make eye contact with people, because I couldn’t believe this was the world that we lived in,” she recalled.
LANCASTER, Pa. – On an overcast afternoon this month, a block party was in full swing, the hot dogs were going fast, and Chris Underhill, freshly graduated from high school, was savoring a new milestone: He had registered to vote for the first time.
A Pennsylvania county goes up against a giant of the private prison industry, and comes out victorious. What’s the best way to push profit-seeking corporations out of the public sphere? Don’t let them take over in the first place. Residents of Lancaster County, Penn.
“Nobody cares about anything but themselves anymore,” Judy says, as Hines and Levin prepare to leave. “I am glad you are doing this.” Judy’s sentiments about the contemporary political climate make sense. Lancaster, after all, is the sort of place that the national Democratic Party has largely surrendered to right-wing control.