HOPEWELL TWP.: Students enjoy collectors’ political button show, too

By Gene Robbins, Managing Editor
Kataki Gujar winced as she pointed to a political button of a cartoon image of Texas Governor Rick Perry bringing a gavel down on the “o” in script that read “Stop socialism.”
The “o” was in the shape of the rainbow horizon logo that President Obama used as a campaign icon.
Kataki pointed to it and whooshed, but the Hopewell Valley Central senior understood the button’s intended message, even if she might have disagreed with it. That’s a credit to her and many of the dozens of fellow high school students who came Saturday to the Titusville United Methodist Church to see paraphernalia for sale at the 13th annual show of the “Big Apple” chapter of American Political Items Collectors.
In one clutch, Kataki and friends Peyton Wille and Abigail Waugh moved from table to table, picking up their favorite political pins for closer inspection. They were animated and energized, and they said they had all attended a John Kasich rally at Villanova prior to the Pennsylvania primary. The three — rarin’ to cast their first votes this fall — were chagrined to learn they had missed former President Bill Clinton’s appearance in Ewing last week.
A signup list at the entrance desk showed the signatures of students who came to wander the room, look at buttons, bumper stickers, figurines and printed material. Their attendance would gain them some credit in their history or political science class at school, but they seemed to be enjoying it.
“We had about 60 high school students from the AP history and government classes at Hopewell Valley Central High School,” said show organizer Tony Lee of Titusville. “I also speak to those classes with a presentation about the role of political campaign items in the history of U.S. politics. Both of my daughters took the classes when they were at Central High, and I formed a strong relationship with the two teachers, who say their students really enjoy seeing the history in the room at the show.”
Since a buyer could easily drop $35 or $40 or more on one rare pin, much of the students’ buying attention centered on vendor Mark Evans’ display of pins from this year’s elections; they were being sold for four for $10. One student scooped up a button that read “A doughnut in every tummy” around a photo of Chris Christie munching a glazed pastry.
There were many Donald Trump pins — both promotional and critical — and a selection of Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders pins. The Sanders buttons dwelt on his glasses, dishelved hair and the “Feel the Bern” catchline. The Clinton pins emphasized her gender, with one substituting her face for the Rosie the Riveter character flexing her muscle from World War II.
Students seemed to enjoy the day, but admitted they were prompted to attend by teachers like Paul Tkacs and Jeffrey Parkinson.
“He (Mr. Tkacs) likes us to come and check out the show. He likes us to be involved in politics, no matter which party,” said Peyton, a Central High senior of Mr. Tkacs, an AP government and politics teacher at the high school.
Peyton, who leans to the libertarian politics of Gary Johnson in the fall election, said Mr. Tkacs helped him and others get jobs as paid election day poll workers.
One vendor hawked a set of 11 pins from the GOP debate in Ohio. Debate rules limited the number of candidates on stage to 10. Since it wasn’t known until the last minute who would qualify, pins for 11 hopefuls were made in only 24 sets, said the vendor. Buy them all and you would get the Rick Perry pin for free; it might become valuable, since he ultimately didn’t qualify for the main stage.
That’s the essence of collecting.
The show’s organizers auctioned a 7/8-inch pinback button that showed Teddy Roosevelt in his Rough Rider uniform as a candidate for Governor of New York in 1898, which sold for $155.
An observer’s eye noticed an orange “Nixon yes, jelly no” pin. What’s that mean? he asked Mr. Lee.
Mr. Lee, who offered a few appraisals on items brought to the show, explained it was a gimmick for an early1970s candy bar that had no peanut butter. (An observant eye could find a “McGovern yes, jelly no” pin elsewhere in the room.)
The arrival of a six-foot-long turkey sub sandwich, sold in hunks for $4, was well anticipated, and Betty Hall hawked her daughter-in-law Jane Lee’s pistachio cake, sold at $2 a slice to benefit the church.