Close friends despite our differences, we’re planning a drive across the US to Washington. We want to meet people who will challenge each of our beliefs

I'm taking my Trump-loving cousin, age 93, to meet him – will you help?

My cousin Frances once said she’d “drive clear across the country to shake Donald Trump’s hand”, so I’ve offered to drive her myself.

She’s 93 and I’m 43, but we’re practically best friends. Frances and I are like a lot of families these days: her politics veer right, while I veer sensible (“Oh please!” she says). She thinks Trump is saving America, while I think he’s selling it to the highest bidder. After the 2016 election, I said some nasty things and we didn’t speak for weeks, something we both regretted.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Bryan Mealer. Photograph: Wyatt McSpadden

We vowed never to let toxic politics divide us again. And now that it’s tearing apart families and neighbors across our country, it worries us both.

That’s why on 18 March, we’re renting a car and driving 1,700 miles from Big Spring, Texas (our hometown), to the White House to try and meet President Trump.

We’re stopping at many places along the way, talking with a broad spectrum of people who make up this country. We’ll stop at truck stops, bars, and ice cream parlors. We’re set to talk to reporters, local activists, and clergy.

We’re calling it the #AcrossTheGreatDivideTour – and we also need your recommendations. We want to meet rightwing radio hosts, imams, evangelicals, gun lovers, activists, teachers, and anyone else who can challenge our respective ideologies and spark conversation.

(We’ll go through Oklahoma City, St Louis, Ferguson, Indianapolis, Columbus, down into West Virginia, and onward to DC.)

More importantly, we need you to help us get into the White House, where Frances and I hope to share with President Trump the story of our friendship and adventure and what we learned from a nation that wants to mend and heal.

For Frances, the trip is a fitting hurrah to an already dizzying political life. Back in the 1960s, she was a foot soldier in the swelling conservative movement, working for Senator Barry Goldwater and later befriending Phyllis Schlafly to help defeat the Equal Rights Amendment.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Frances campaigning for the Arizona senate candidate John Conlan, in Phoenix in 1964. Photograph: Bryan Mealer

I only found out about her three years ago while researching my book, The Kings of Big Spring. No one in my family knew she was still alive. When we finally met, she sniffed out my political leanings right away. I’m the only Democrat in my family, so I’ve long grown accustomed to defending my beliefs around a dinner table. But Frances was ruthless.

“You mean you’re one of those liberals?” she asked, shocked that someone in her family could be like the dummies depicted on Fox News, which is on every time I call her. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m the only liberal she knows.

To me, Frances was just another Republican undeterred by the facts. When I told friends about our budding friendship, many were shocked that I even had the stomach to tolerate her. But she was my family, and I only have one. Plus, I do love her company, even if we argue constantly.

Most coastal liberals have never had a real encounter with a conservative, and the opposite applies in flyover country. We seethe in our airtight silos and turn our fellow Americans into monsters while our children listen. We’re angry all the damn time, and for many good reasons.

But frankly, I’m tired of being angry. When Frances said she’d like to meet Trump, I bit my tongue and saw a chance to address this anger and division in our country while having some fun.

“We’ll go together,” I said. “I’ll drive.”

Can you help Frances meet her hero Donald Trump? Can you offer suggestions for their trip, and guide their wheels as they go? Send tweets to @bryanmealer, email him at acrossthegreatdividetour@gmail.com, or post a comment below.

