PHOENIX, AZ - Roger Freeman sits on an upholstered stool at the counter of the Rimrock
Diner and pokes at a loose molar in his mouth. He wiggles it and frowns.
"I’m gonna have to pull this one out pretty soon," he says. "Otherwise it’ll rot." Freeman’s
mouth already has more gaps than teeth. The last time he saw the inside of a dentist’s office, Bob
Hope was still tap dancing. He sighs and takes his hand away from his mouth and, after a
moment of self-conscious hesitation, proceeds to gently prod a baseball-sized goiter that
protrudes from the side of his neck. "This thing is getting uncomfortable, too. I’m having some
trouble swallowing."
At this moment the waitress arrives with the food. Because of difficulties related to his goiter,
Freeman has ordered only minestrone soup and a bowl of watery oatmeal. As a reporter across
the table tucks into a plate of steak and eggs, Freeman looks over with undisguised envy. "I
remember eating meals like that. My, oh, my, did I love a good steak. I’m almost tempted to eat
one now, but I figure there’s even odds I’d choke to death-plus my stomach problems these
days would make it pretty uncomfortable on the back end even if I survived eating it."
Freeman has, for the past three months, been enduring gastrointestinal symptoms of increasing
severity. "I got these belly aches that feel like I been stabbed with a red hot knife. I never felt
nothing like it before." He also describes vomiting fits. "That puking is horrible when it gets
going. It’s one reason I’m losing all these teeth, I think."
When Freeman is asked what his diagnosis is, he merely blinks. "Well, I’m still meaning to get in
to see a doctor." When did he last see one? "I don’t recall. I still had a lot more hair at that time,"
he says with a wan chuckle. At his present age of 48, Freeman has lost the great majority of his
hair.
Freeman has been suffering what can only be called "major" medical symptoms for more than
two years. He developed them shortly after being fired from his job as a restocking clerk at a
megalithic retail chain, one very familiar to most Americans. "When I was working there I had
health insurance," Freeman says proudly. Under further questioning he acknowledges that it was
a "limited benefit plan" - one for which he paid about $10 per week ($500 per year) and which
had maximum benefits of $1,000 in case of illness. "A thousand bucks though - that’s a lot of
aspirin," he says, with the same wan chuckle. When asked what good it would do in case of
major illness, he insists that "something is better than nothing."
In fact, to this day Freeman has nothing but high praise for his former employer who fired him
for physically attacking a fellow worker. That worker was organizing a union drive at the retailer,
citing among other reasons a desire that employees like Freeman should have something more
substantial than "limited benefit" insurance.
"The company showed us this video on the first day of work. It said unions were bad for all of
us-managers, workers, and customers. They said they would take good care of me, and I never
had a reason not to believe them." When it was pointed out that the family that founded the
company is worth more than $100 billion and could, with less than 1% of that total, offer much
better health care for employees, Freeman blinked and seemed not to have heard.
"They were real nice when they let me go. They told me how much they appreciated me
attacking that union whacko and how sorry they were they had to fire me for it. Man, he’s lucky
they peeled me off him, or I’d have broken him in half. Unions are dishonest and hurt the
companies that offer good-paying jobs to Americans like me."
Freeman has for more than two years, been looking for a job. To date he has had no luck.
Without work he has been unable to afford health insurance, and without health insurance he
cannot afford to see a doctor. He refuses to apply for government assistance because "that’s
welfare, and I sure as hell don’t believe in welfare. I’m sick of these big government types who
try to take money out of the pockets of hard-working people like me and Sam Walton just so
they can give it out to welfare queens and lazy crack heads."
The thought seems to enrage Freeman so much that he chokes on his oatmeal and sputters and
coughs for several minutes. The raspy cough arouses concern from his lunch companion."I think
I got a bit pneumonia, too," he says. "As soon as I see a doctor, I’m going to ask him about
it."
But Freeman’s rage has not dissipated. "I’ll tell you - this is why I’m putting together this fund-
raiser for Bush. He’s compassionate, but he’s like me: he doesn’t think we should be stealing
from hard working folk and giving special benefits to people who just want to sit around all day."
(When asked what he does all day, Freeman describes a routine that seems to involve equal parts
vomiting and searching the want ads.)
At present, Freeman is attempting to organize a $10-per-person Republican fund-raiser but has
been unable to connect with anyone in the president’s campaign. "The headquarters hasn’t
returned any of my calls yet, but I’m sure they will. They’re probably just real busy. After all,
they stand for good, industrious folks like me."
When asked who he was planning to invite to the fund-raiser, Freeman threw out some names of
men and women from the local shelter where he has lived for the past several months. "I’m not
the only fellow who might be down on his luck, but still doesn’t like the idea of government
having its hands in my pockets or telling me what doctor to see or what union to join. I like
having a compassionate conservative in the White House. Makes me feel proud."
When a waitress at the diner overhears and points out that the Bush administration has made it
easier for companies like Freeman’s old employer to hire people at low wages and not provide
even basic health care benefits, and that there are 50 million people in dire situations much like
his, Freeman only waves his hand dismissively.
"It’s tough being in business in this country. We can hardly be asking them to give health
insurance to every little person who drives trucks or cleans toilets or stocks shelves " Mr.
Freeman tails off into an ear splitting coughing fit and is unable to complete his thought. Later,
unable to recover his voice, he whispers that he will begin publicizing his fund-raiser as soon as
he works out the details.
