A few years ago when I was living in an apartment on Irving Street in Center City, I got to know one of the neighbors who lived in a house across the street.

Virginia and her husband had moved in there just a few years previously from, as it happened, Virginia, so that made it easy to remember both her name and her state of origin.

We got to know each other the way neighbors often do. First, just nodding, then introducing ourselves, then stopping to chat whenever we saw each other. Virginia was a lovely woman and we soon discovered that we had theater and the orchestra in common.

In fact, she had a grown son who was making a career in the acting profession, although he currently lived in New York, but he was engaged to a local woman who was also an actor. When I found out that she was in a production at the Walnut Street, I made a point of going to see it, and I let her know what a good performance she had given.

Although I liked living in Center City, because nearly everything was within a five or ten minute walk, construction noises during the day had gotten so bad that I decided that I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s when I decided to look for a house, something that I thought I’d never do again. So I asked Virginia if she knew of a real estate agent. She did.

As it happened this was the beginning of 2020 and the pandemic was just gearing up as I was looking for a house. Well, I found one, the one I’m in now, and just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything, I asked Virginia to come take a look at it and play devil’s advocate. Between Virginia and the realtor, who was actually a good friend of Virginia’s, we gave the house a good walk through, and I decided that the flaws were ones I could live with.

Virginia had done a bunch of little favors for me besides recommending a realtor and helping with the house, and I wanted to try to repay them in some way. As I said this was early in the pandemic and it was difficult to find masks, so when I found a place that was selling them, I bought extras for Virginia and her husband. And as it happened the place that was selling them had a cute anti-Trump poster, so I took a photo of it.

As I was walking home, I texted Virginia that I had something for her, so she was waiting for me when I got to her door. As I was giving her the masks, I remembered the anti-Trump poster and I thought I’d show her the photo.

“You know,” I said, “we’ve never discussed politics. You aren’t a Trump supporter, are you?” Smiling as I said it and fully expecting a strong “Of course not” accompanied by a laugh.

“Yes, I am,” Virginia replied. She was serious. “Does this mean you won’t be talking to me anymore?” 

I was completely caught off guard. 

Recovering quickly, I said, “No, it just means we’ll continue not talking about politics,” as I put my phone with the Trump photo back into my pocket.

She went on: “I get all kinds of flack from my son and his fiancé all the time.” She must have seen my crestfallen face. “That doesn’t mean that I agree with everything Trump stands for.” 

I didn’t want to press the issue, as I feared that I might learn something that I didn’t want to learn. But now I regret it in a way. I do wonder how could such a seemingly sane, kind, intelligent woman be a Trump supporter.

And we continued to have a pleasant friendly relationship for the rest of my time in that neighborhood and we never spoke about politics.

NB: Virginia is not her name nor the name of the state that she is from.