O’Doherty: Federal outcome shocks, while local elections bring revelation and reconciliation

I found prime parking right in front of the red-brick worship site, a rare spot that felt almost like a small victory after a brutal presidential election result. Billy Strings’ healing “Away From The Mire” blasted from my truck, catching the attention of a young parishioner as we both arrived a few minutes late to Mass, delayed by the election night snowstorm traffic. The restored, ancient red oak pews, originally from the former Blue Wall state of Michigan, offered sturdy comfort for the 8 a.m. Wednesday Mass at Saint Mary’s Catholic Church.

“I repent for not understanding my neighbor,” I prayed. I repent for listening to the D.C. message mavens over the Aspen Valley nurse who carefully draws my blood. I repent for fitting into progressive text chains instead of forcing the facts at the Aspen Elks Lodge. I repent for trusting a cable TV reverend over the wisdom of Father Grady and Deacon Phil.

I repent for tuning into the Hacks-On-Tap podcast instead of Aspen Public Radio and for refreshing Drudge more often than The Aspen Times. I repent for learning about my medicine from a podcaster rather than the attentive pharmacy tech at Carl’s and Docs Gieszl and Connery at Aspen Medical Care. I valued the words of a decorated Washington General over the experience of a broken Roaring Fork veteran. I mentioned “Latinx” but not “How you doin’?” to my roofer, Manuel. I repent for being in an online bubble that didn’t prepare me for the shock of the ages.

For example, I tweeted feverishly about Boebert but didn’t pass out campaign literature for Frisch or Mayor Madsen. I repent. I studied the political horse race more than housing. I invested in Denver and D.C. political money changers over real ideas at The Aspen Institute. I obeyed the algorithm over my wife, holding the keyboard instead of my kids. I took cues from Ivy League thought police over the wisdom of a lifetime learner at Rocky Mountain College. Instead of volunteering at AVSC, I took turns on my phone. I feared the demigod authoritarian over the authors of my faith. I did not respect my opposition; I feared them. I did not love my neighbor; I ducked him. I repent.

That is why I felt lost when it came to the top of the ticket. That is why I repent. That is how I will earn reconciliation with my community of Americans and my community here in Pitkin County.

After all, our local story and our local community are entirely different — something out of a Rockwell print, painted with broad, emphatic strokes of pioneer progress. We can see how special our community is: 79% of active voters in Pitkin County cast their ballots. We had eight heroic election judges and county staff triple-checking ballots until 1 a.m. We had local reporters covering election events and parties well past midnight — a luxury of informed, engaged citizenship in an era of misinformation. “The turnout for this election is a testament to our community’s robust civic engagement,” explained Pitkin County Clerk Ingrid Greuter. God bless you all. The experience heals me.

The electorate voted decisively for airport improvements and voted down, almost 2-to-1, a ballot measure designed to confuse voters and stymie our most critical infrastructure project in a generation. Pitkin County’s high-information voters weren’t fooled. Our people voted for attainable housing in Aspen and Snowmass Village, despite some local officials in Snowmass Village already vowing to undermine the taxpayer-sponsored affordable housing budget with a delay-to-death disguise fashioned as “consensus building” and “site refinement.” Please, spare us another three years of delay and wasted dollars; it’s time to align with your decisive pro-housing constituency.

In the mania of the final four months of the election, I had forgotten why we moved here nearly a decade ago. I brought my family over the pass from Trump’s Washington, D.C., after my own long-shot run for the Democratic nomination in 2016, working for Governor Martin O’Malley, an acolyte of Colorado Sen. Gary Hart (himself Senator George McGovern’s campaign manager). What attracted me to Pitkin County was the strength of local institutions I learned summering here prior over Biden’s Delaware beaches. From the Aspen Education Foundation and Aspen Valley Ski Club to ACES and a red-brick Catholic parish built for “prospectors, miners, gamblers, merchants, saints and sinners,” according to church documents.

Back at Mass, Father Grady’s post-election homily focused on the parable of the Lost Sheep. His articulate rendering illustrated God’s love for all of us, especially those like me who have gone astray. I got lost in technology, listening to distant voices instead of trusting the insight and intentions of my neighbors — for whom I am to love. Shock ensued. But my community’s local actions this Election Day reclaimed my spirit. Our local people and institutions, sacred third spaces, hold me on their shoulders just as the Shepherd carried the Lost Sheep. Thank you for bringing me home — again.

Damian O’Doherty is a Snowmass Village resident and an eight-year resident of the Roaring Fork Valley.