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A righteous warrior to the end

Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg — who passed away Friday on Erev Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish High Holy Day commemorating the beginning of the new year — was a trailblazer, role model, force for the rule of law, truth teller, believer in democracy, and warrior for gender equality. By any standard, hers was a remarkable life.

Many accounts of Justice Ginsburg’s passing noted that, according to Jewish tradition, one who dies on Rosh Hashanah is a tzaddik, a person of great righteousness.* That seems so right when applied to Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

Supreme Court justices can be the most isolated and aloof members of our governing elite. But it was not that way with Justice Ginsburg. Her humanness was on display in many ways and in different places, not just in her majority opinions and in those famous dissents for the court. Stories abound of interactions with her, large and small, that had profound impacts on those in her presence. She became “a feminist icon in her octogenarian years for millions of little girls around the world,” a truly remarkable achievement. I was never fortunate enough to meet Justice Ginsburg in person, yet I do recognize how she touched and blessed my life — and the lives of every American — over the years.

There are wonderful tributes in the media and on the internet, and I encourage you to learn more about this remarkable person who helped change the world. If you have the time, stream both the documentary R.B.G. and the biopic On the Basis of Sex. Both films, for me, capture much of why her life matters so much to so many people and to the country at this point in time.

In fighting for gender equality, Justice Ginsburg believed that men as well as women benefited when equal protection under the law applied equally to all Americans. Having been the beneficiary of the work, support, collaboration, and guidance of many women who were able to rise to embrace their talents and make the world a better place in part because of Ginsburg’s landmark legal efforts for gender equality, I recognize and am extremely grateful for that often unrecognized part of her legacy.

Of course, not every man sees it this way, and I’m thinking of two in particular. But men like the top leaders of the Republican party are not interested in gender equality, they are interested in power and patriarchy. So arguments are created by men that attempt to keep women in special roles, to dilute their power and ability to effect change. As two of her former law clerks wrote in the New York Times, “equality did not mean special­ — she would say “pedestal” — treatment for women. Equality meant the same treatment for women and men.” 

“She often used male instead of female plaintiffs to show sex discrimination prevents all people from realizing their full potential. Why shouldn’t a man, for example, receive the same Social Security benefits a woman would receive, so he could stay home to care for his child after his spouse died? She successfully brought that question to the court in the 1975 case Weinberger v. Weisenfeld. She has said in interviews: ‘The aim was to break down the stereotypical view of men’s roles and women’s roles.’”

Ginsburg’s remarkable life and legacy didn’t happen because she was the loudest voice in the room or through cynicism about the world. As her clerks noted, that legacy was shaped “through a remarkable legal intellect, an incomparable work ethic and a powerful vision of what justice and equal treatment for men and women mean in reality.” Her legal impact touched every part of life while she lived her vision of equality “through every aspect of her personal life, too.”

Those of us who believe in equality for all have much work left to do. She showed all of us important ways to achieve those goals. As Steve Schmidt, one of the co-founders of The Lincoln Project, has written in a remarkably frank tribute to a person whose ideas his party battled for many years, “A great champion of freedom has arrived in heaven. Her work is done. Her burden is now ours. Let us honor her legacy by doing our duty.”

Rest in peace, Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. May we all be willing to follow the example of your remarkable life and leadership to fulfill the American “dream that the dreamers dreamed.”**

More to come…

DJB

*A reader and friend who is Jewish sent me a couple of suggestions to ensure that my first two paragraphs were correct. I appreciated the education and thought I’d pass along the information to all my readers..

First, when I originally noted that RBG died on the Eve of Rosh Hashanah, he suggested it would appropriate to name that time as “Erev Rosh Hashanah.” An explanation that he supplied from the internet noted that Erev means evening in Hebrew. Days in the Jewish calendar begin as the daylight leaves — as opposed to other calendar systems where a day begins at midnight or sunrise (as it becomes light).

Because of the intent to make sure some things are done or not done on certain days, there are various ways of measuring or defining when evening has arrived: sunset or the visibility of three stars in the night sky. So, if you want to make sure you do not do something on a certain day, like work on Shabbat, you should stop doing those things as the sun sets. But if you want to make sure the day has arrived, you should wait for three stars.

Erev also has a meaning that is less common these days. In this older meaning it refers to the time before the holiday has actually begun. During this time, one can still do the things that are forbidden or need to be done before the holiday in preparation. In this meaning, it can refer to the day before the holiday or event.

Second, he noted that while my use of the term “tzaddik” was correct in referring to a person of great righteousness, if I was referring specifically to RBG the correct term would be “tzaddika” or “tzaddikah” because nouns in Hebrew are typically either masculine or feminine depending on the reference. In this case, my reference was more general, so I left it as I had it originally, but appreciated the information.

**Langston Hughes

The acoustic side of Chris Stapleton

Readers who follow country music know the singer, songwriter, and guitarist Chris Stapleton. But I enjoy seeing those from other genres hearing his “brown liquor” voice for the first time and recognizing both a unique talent and a kindred spirit with whatever type of music they love.*

Born into a Kentucky coal-mining family, Stapleton absorbed a variety of musical influences growing up, including from the incomparable Aretha Franklin who he described as “the greatest singer that ever lived.” That tells you right from the beginning that his tastes are excellent and his standards high. Stapleton toiled in the Nashville song-writing business for more than a decade while also fronting one of my favorite bluegrass bands, The SteelDrivers, from 2007 to 2010. In 2015 he broke through as a solo performer with the award-winning album Traveller, was featured at the 2015 CMA Awards show in a breakout live performance with Justin Timberlake, and hasn’t looked back.

Stapleton’s voice is a treasure, but his songwriting and guitar playing are also top notch. In this edition of the Saturday Soundtrack, I want to focus on the acoustic side of his work, where all three elements of this unique performer shine.

We will begin this Saturday Soundtrack with a SteelDrivers favorite, If It Hadn’t Been for Love, pushed along by Stapleton’s urgent vocals and the terrific fiddle and harmonies of Tammy Rogers. And yes, this is the tune Adele covered in her Live at the Royal Albert Hall DVD. 

Drinking songs have always been a core part of the storytelling appeal of bluegrass and country music, and Stapleton’s time with The SteelDrivers produced several good ones, none better than Drinkin’ Dark Whiskey (as in “Drinkin’ dark whiskey / tellin’ white lies / one leads to another / on a Saturday night.”)

When Stapleton went solo, his wife Morgane joined him as the harmony singer, and their voices are beautiful together. This live version of Fire Away from Traveller is a great acoustic version featuring just Chris and Morgane and a guitar.

NPR’s Tiny Desk concert captured them that same year in an intimate acoustic setting where Stapleton featured two of his electric hits, When the Stars Come Out and More of You in acoustic versions. These are really lovely, and the interplay of the Stapletons’ voices is pure country gold. More of You may be close to a perfect country love song.

I’ll end with what may be my favorite Chris Stapleton tune, Whiskey and You. His voice is perfect for this story of loss and pain. The guitar accompaniment is simple yet haunting. And the writing by Stapleton doesn’t get any better.

There’s a bottle on the dresser by your ring

And it’s empty so right now I don’t feel a thing

And I’ll be hurting when I wake up on the floor

But I’ll be over it by noon

That’s the difference between whiskey and you

Come tomorrow I can walk in any store

It ain’t a problem they’ll always sell me more

But your forgiveness

Well that’s something I can’t buy

There ain’t a thing that I can do

That’s the difference between whiskey and you

And then there’s the killer line.

I’ve got a problem but it ain’t like what you think

I drink because I’m lonesome and I’m lonesome cause I drink

Followed by the aching chorus.

One’s the devil one keeps driving me insane

At times I wonder if they ain’t both the same

But one’s a liar that helps to hide me from my pain

And one’s the long gone bitter truth

That’s the difference between whiskey and you

Does it get any more basic than love, loss, soulful reflection, and hopeful redemption — all wrapped up in that voice? Enjoy.

More to come…

DJB

*Search “Chris Stapleton Reaction Tennessee Whiskey” in You Tube and see all the different singers, vocal coaches, and commentators from hip hop to r&b to soul share their first reactions to hearing Stapleton sing, especially from his live performances. Those reactions are priceless.

Photo of Chris Stapleton by Becky Fluke

The struggle between tyranny and freedom

America faces great challenges in 2020. It is even tempting to call these times unprecedented, but they are not. Harry Truman, of course, made this point in very plain language:

“It was the same with those old birds in Greece and Rome as it is now. . . . The only thing new in the world is the history you don’t know.”

As Samuel W. Rushay, Jr. wrote about Truman’s understanding of history and the threats to democracy in the 1940s, “(H)is understanding of history provided him with a wider perspective on communism, whose assault on democracy was, in the words of historian Elizabeth Edwards Spalding, the ‘current form of a timeless struggle on earth’ between the forces of tyranny and freedom.”

We have seen that struggle between tyranny and freedom over and over again here in America.

I was reminded of that feature of American life during my summer break, as I read of one particular moment in that struggle as told in Edward Achorn’s fascinating new book Every Drop of Blood: The Momentous Second Inauguration of Abraham Lincoln. Achorn, the editorial page editor of the Providence Journal, brings a journalist’s eye and a storyteller’s skill to illuminate all the capitol’s “mud, sewage, and saloons, its prostitutes, spies, reporters, social-climbing spouses and power-hungry politicians” that came together on March 3rd and 4th in 1865 when Lincoln began his second term in office. He then showcases the activities of these two days “as a microcosm of all the opposing forces that had driven the country apart.”

When the sun broke through and Lincoln spoke on the afternoon of March 4th, he gave what is rightly considered the greatest inaugural address in the nation’s history, and perhaps the finest single speech in the 244 years since we declared our independence from Britain. When most were expecting celebratory words over the coming end of the war, he spoke instead of that endless struggle between tyranny and freedom. In just 701 words, Lincoln made the case that both sides were wrong, and that all the bloodshed that preceded that day and that was still to come may be God’s judgement for our original sin of slavery. Frederick Douglass, one of several individuals Achorn follows throughout the two days, told Lincoln later that evening in the midst of a crowded reception at the White House that it was “a sacred effort.”

Achorn takes the reader through the events of the inauguration, and how it set the stage for Robert E. Lee’s surrender to U.S. Grant on April 9th at Appomattox followed, less than a week later on April 14th, by Lincoln’s assassination on Good Friday. He does this through a group of characters, both famous and unknown. In addition to Douglass, Achorn follows poet Walt Whitman; soldiers’ advocate Clara Barton; Vice President Andrew Johnson, who was famously drunk the day of the inauguration; and Lincoln assassin John Wilkes Booth. Lucy Hale, the daughter of a U.S. Senator from New England and Booth’s lover, is also part of the story, as she inadvertently provided the access for Booth to get into the capitol on March 4th and then, fatally, into Ford’s Theatre six weeks later. Her involvement was covered up, probably beginning on the morning Lincoln died during a private meeting between her father and incoming president Johnson. Achorn captures the frenzy, the turmoil, the excitement, and the despair of that time in a remarkable work.

Few could imagine those events, and the country’s response, on the morning of March 3rd. But that is why history is so helpful. Dealing with crises is serious business, requiring our full attention. But as historian David McCullough reminds us, we have dealt with difficulty before. In fact, almost every era has crises to address.

It is important to remember that as we consider today’s challenges, including:

  • The loss of between 20-40 million jobs*** since the pandemic began; and although some have come back, the economy has not recovered from the Great Depression-level losses earlier in the year;
  • The horrific murder of George Floyd, a 46-year-old black man who died in Minneapolis in late May after Derek Chauvin, a white police officer, knelt on his neck for almost eight minutes while he was lying face down handcuffed on the street following a complaint about a counterfeit $20 bill; an action that launched nationwide protests and confrontations focused on 400+ years of systemic racism; and
  • Amidst cries of fraud and cheating, the Republican party’s most respected expert on election fraud, who has worked on every campaign back to the Reagan years, has written that Trump’s ceaseless cries about the election being stolen from him, “has put my party in the position of a firefighter who deliberately sets fires to look like a hero putting them out.”

All these and more require our close attention, hard work, and focus. Yet it is timely to remember that what we face is not unprecedented. This nation has struggled towards freedom, and fought the forces of tyranny since the beginning of its history. Yes, certainly focus on the work ahead to defeat those who would take our freedom away, but also remember that hope, as I am fond of saying, is grounded in memory.

More to come…

DJB

*By the time you read this, those numbers will be out of date (and, unfortunately, higher in both cases).

**If you think that the number of COVID cases and deaths in the U.S. is greatly exaggerated, then I recommend this explanation.

***It depends on how you count, but the range is courtesy of the conservative Wall Street Journal.

Duets: Things go better in pairs

I love a good country or folk duet. When several surfaced yesterday on Pandora, my assumption was that God was sending a Saturday Soundtrack sign…and I decided to listen to her.

Living in Tennessee in the 1960s and 70s, it was easy to hear some of the classic country duet acts on the radio and see them on Nashville’s numerous country music television shows. George and Tammy singing Golden Ring was perfect, because it was a song that matched their tumultuous relationship. Dolly and Porter were big during those years, before Dolly left the partnership some forty-six years ago to become a force of nature all on her own. And of course, at the top of the heap was that duet of country royalty, Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash.

So let’s dive in, beginning with the Johnny Cash tune I Still Miss Someone which I’ve always enjoyed. It is a classic “I’m lonely and miss you” song that Emmylou Harris has recorded in both solo and duet versions. Emmylou can sing a duet with anyone and make them sound great, but when she has a terrific musician such as Elvis Costello as a partner, you get this wonderful live version.

Another exquisite duet singer is the inimitable Nanci Griffith. Her song Gulf Coast Highway, co-written with James Hooker, is a beautiful country duet, which they perform live in this version. Nanci also recorded John Prine’s Speed of the Sound of Loneliness for her Other Voices, Other Rooms album, and performed more than one live version with Prine.

Lyle Lovett is one of those singers who has a style that can’t be matched. He sings a funky version of the Willie Nelson tune, Funny How Time Slips Away with the Rev. Al Green and the inimitable Billy Preston on the Hammond B3 organ. I also recommend his duet with Marty Stuart on the Townes Van Zandt tune Pancho and Lefty. (I would also suggest you hunt down the Emmylou and Willie version, which I love.) Emmylou’s version of the Townes tune If I Needed You with Don Williams was one of the duets that originally sent me on this search.

Dolly Parton has always been the gold standard when it comes to country duets. She has had so many wonderful musical partners through the years, that I could make up an entire (and very long) Soundtrack of Dolly Duets. This haunting one on The Grass is Blue with Norah Jones hints at the broad range of her collaborators.

While we’re on Norah Jones, check out her version of (one of) the Tennessee state songs, Tennessee Waltz, with the one-and-only Bonnie Raitt. And before we leave Bonnie, I just love her take on John Prine’s Angel from Montgomery with Ruthie Foster.

Country duets have gone off in all directions. Chris Stapleton is one of the new crop of country singers I enjoy, and at the 2015 CMA awards, he teamed up with Memphis native Justin Timberlake to bring down the house on a couple of drinking songs.

For folk music, you can’t find a more authentic songwriter than Woody Guthrie. Nanci Griffith, also from the Other Voices, Other Rooms album, sings Guthrie’s Do Re Mi with another songwriter of power, Guy Clark. And while we’re in the folk mode, the duo Mandolin Orange, made up of singer-songwriter Andrew Marlin and multi-instrumentalist Emily Frantz, is an under-the-radar group for many people. Their version of Golden Embers shows why they deserve to be better known.

Clearly, I can go down this rabbit hole all day and all night. So I’m going to end with one of my favorite duets, with two of the most unique and idiosyncratic singers of all time: Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan, singing Dylan’s Girl from the North Country. This song was pivotal in one of my favorite movies of recent years, Silver Linings Playbook, so click on that link if you’d like to hear it while watching a trailer from the movie.

If you have a favorite duet you’d like to recommend, please add it to the comments.

Enjoy!

More to come…

DJB

Choose your leaders wisely

A poem appropriate for our time, by Octavia Butler.

Choose your leaders with wisdom and forethought.
To be led by a coward is to be controlled by all that the coward fears.
To be led by a fool is to be led by the opportunists who control the fool.
To be led by a thief is to offer up your most precious treasures to be stolen.
To be led by a liar is to ask to be told lies.
To be led by a tyrant is to sell yourself and those you love into slavery.

More to come…

DJB

Image by Mario Aranda from Pixabay

Rest in Peace, The Rev. John D. Lane

Our dear family friend, John Lane, passed away last Sunday, August 30th, after a courageous battle with lymphoma. We were blessed to know John for more than thirty years, and he will be sorely missed.

John Lane, with his wife Bizzy, daughter Mary, and grandson Will at Ragged, NH in August 2010

As noted in his obituary, John was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Nepal from 1966-1968, serving in the most remote post of that organization, a six day walk from any transportation. This was a life-changing experience that he drew upon in sermons and writings. John was also a proud graduate of Amherst College and General Theological Seminary. Our family came to know John in 1987, when he became rector of Trinity Episcopal Church in Staunton, Virginia. Known for his quick wit, sharp intellect, spiritual guidance, loving care, and thoughtful leadership, those were all qualities we had come to appreciate when we asked John to be our Andrew’s godfather. He gladly and enthusiastically accepted that role.

John Lane (4th from left, in the red vestments) with the other godparents and Andrew and Claire on their baptismal day, May 30, 1993

There was so much about John’s life and work to admire, but I want to focus on his humor and humanity. He showed me how to accept and even indulge the humor that is essential to faith. In sermons, lessons, writings, and conversation, John’s dry wit always came through as an essential part of who he was and what he believed. As someone who has more doubts than may be readily apparent, John gave me permission to look at my own set of beliefs and accept that some things are going to be skewed, off-center, and, perhaps, not understandable. And that’s okay.

John’s humor also came through to make a larger point about what’s important and what is trivial in life. He would enjoy posting articles on his Facebook page to bring that wit and wisdom right out front and in your face. Articles such as Christian: You Are Upset About the Wrong Things which begins with this quote used by sociologist Tony Campola when he spoke with Christian audiences:

“I have three things I’d like to say today. First, while you were sleeping last night, 30,000 kids died of starvation or diseases related to malnutrition. Second, most of you don’t give a shit. What’s worse is that you’re more upset with the fact I just said “shit” than you are that 30,000 kids died last night.”

That sense that the moral outrage of many people of faith is misdirected and focused on the wrong things — told with a bit of humor — was right up John’s alley.

John’s humanity is another part of his life I recall with appreciation and affection. Several of his sermons that were obviously about the illness of his son, Andrew, who passed away in 2007, still remain with me. In those sermons, John was willing to say he didn’t understand and maybe didn’t want to be tested to “be a better person.” John taught me it was okay to be vulnerable, and that part of his humanity, seen again during the past year when his cancer returned, was also something I’ve been thankful to experience.

In his last decade of life, John, along with his wife Bizzy, provided a great example in “how” to retire. Over the past ten years they had fun together, with family and with other couples, in places near and far. Like every other way he lived, this was all part of John’s broad understanding of humanity. The remembrances those friends have posted on John’s Facebook page show the wideness of the impact of that life well lived.

Candice and I were fortunate to see John and Bizzy on several occasions during the pandemic, as they came first to NIH in Washington and then to Baltimore for treatments. We would get together for socially distanced meals and good conversation whenever we could, most recently last month. In those moments, John let us just be his friend and show support, while accepting that love and support unconditionally. Watching John go through this challenge has encouraged me to let go of more.

My favorite picture of the Lane family: Andrew (front), Edward, Mary, John, and Bizzy (l-r)

The last time we spoke with John was on Facetime, the Monday before he passed away. He was entering Hospice care. Candice asked him if he was ready and John replied with his typical sense of humor. He said, “Well, I feel like Woody Allen: ‘I’m not afraid of death; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.'” That was John: helping others laugh, smile, and think until the end.

It isn’t easy getting close to parishioners when you’re the rector, but John was able to manage those types of relationships with a number of individuals. I so appreciated John’s wisdom and guidance to me, given not only as my priest but especially as my friend. Our family treasures the years we knew John, and with his passing our love goes out to Bizzy, Edward, Mary, and their families.

Rest in peace, good friend.

More to come…

DJB

Taking a summer break

Here in the heat of July, I’ve decided to give the staff at More to Come the rest of the summer off. Yep — all the writers, editors, photographers, graphic designers, and those amazing headline writers — every last one of them will get almost seven weeks off with pay. Wow! What a boss!*

Seriously, this seems like a good time for a break. I’m getting tired of considering all the draws being made on the U.S. Strategic Stupid Reserve, and there doesn’t seem to be any letup in sight. There will be plenty of material, unfortunately, on this topic after Labor Day. Also, there are some other projects calling for my focus, including that long-promised gap year book.

So this is it until the Tuesday after Labor Day (8 September for the international readers). Well, this is it unless the feds in the unmarked vehicles and camouflaged uniforms come and lock me up, then all bets are off.

Should you want to take this time and explore some of the things you might have missed on the blog, here are favorites from 2020 that I can recommend.

And then a couple of oldies-but-goodies that just seem appropriate in the middle of our COVID-19 dumpster fire:

  • Kindness — written after I announced my retirement and was reminded how good it feels to be on the receiving end of kindness (January 2019)
  • History as an antidote to folly — as we struggle to keep our democracy, thoughts on how we got to this point and what we can do to fight back (November 2017)

If these don’t interest you, perhaps you’ll like to see the top 10 posts from the blog in terms of reader views. Or simply feel free to rummage around in the archives. In any event, have a great rest of the summer.

See you in September.

More to come…

DJB

*If you are new to this blog and wonder what the heck all this is about, well there is no staff. Just DJB. And there’s no pay. I do it just for the joy of writing and sharing thoughts with a small community of readers.

Image of pier from Pixabay.

The long haul

Only a few weeks into the pandemic, Leonard Pitts, Jr. — a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist with the Miami Herald — noticed a change in the behavior of certain segments of the country. In the response to COVID-19 and the question of when and how the nation’s economy should be reopened, he observed that as a country,

“(W)e seem to have tapped the U.S. Strategic Stupid Reserve. The result has been a truly awe-inspiring display of America’s matchless capacity for mental mediocrity.”

Leonard Pitts, Jr., Miami Herald, April 24, 2020

This is one strategic reserve where the well never appears to run dry. Heck, in April we were just beginning to draw down on the stupid. I don’t have enough patience to cover even 1% of the calls upon this reserve since then, but one recent examples will suffice. Who would have thought back in April that this administration was going to smear the director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases in the press while the president “was praising the public-health stylings of Chuck Woolery,* the former host of Love Connection, who logged on to Twitter to spout off some conspiratorial nonsense”?

That’s when the reality of our life today really hit me.

We are not coming out of this situation until a year from now at best. Eighteen months total of this COVID-19 dumpster fire is the best case scenario I can envision after reading the estimates of the real experts, our public health professionals. And it could easily be two years or later from the start of the pandemic, or March 2022, before we have enough confidence to live our lives with anything resembling our old normalcy. Of course, the doomsayers argue that we’ll never recover, but I’m not ready to sign on to that scenario. Yet.

Our death toll will likely be somewhere north of 200,000 by the election and many experts suggest it will be 300,000 by the end of the year. Consider that we lost 600,000 souls in the entire 1918 pandemic and you see where we are headed. We continue to lead the world in both cases and deaths from the coronavirus (and not because we test more — another example of the call on the Strategic Stupid Reserve). If we don’t change leadership in January, all bets are off. As Michelle Goldberg wrote in the July 13th New York Times,

“The country’s international humiliation is total; historians may argue about when the American century began, but I doubt they’ll disagree about when it ended.”

The realization that this will be a long haul led me to serious reflection.

I love our country and the democratic ideals on which it was founded but has never attained. In this crisis, we have to point toward those ideals and call out the political party and its leadership that refuses to stand up for the American people in the face of petulance, incompetence, and a stunning lack of empathy. And most of us need to recognize that we bear responsibility for, at the least, our complacency in defending democracy. Lewis Lapham says it best:

“If the American system of government at present seems so patently at odds with its constitutional hopes and purposes, it is…because the promise of democracy no longer inspires or exalts the citizenry lucky enough to have been born under its star.  It isn’t so much that liberty stands at bay but, rather, that it has fallen into disuse, regarded as insufficient by both its enemies and its nominal friends.  What is the use of free expression to people so frightened of the future that they prefer the comforts of the authoritative lie?”

Lewis Lapham from Age of Folly: America Abandons Its Democracy

As we defend our democracy in the midst of a pandemic, we will have to fight those who, for whatever reason, pretend the virus is not a threat or who try to use their will to make it disappear. (There’s another of those draws on the reserve.) They are just playing into the hands of the virus and contributing to the disaster. Michael Osterholm, director of the University of Minnesota’s Center for Infectious Diseases Research and Policy, says we need to learn to live with the virus.

“You have less chance of winning a policy debate against this virus than you do of … winning a debate against 2,000 angry 2-year-olds. People have to understand that. It’s like trying to defy gravity. Just because you want to doesn’t mean you can.”

We learn how to live with and ultimately defeat the virus by turning out the noise and listening to the experts. I recommend this early July online conversation between Dr. Anthony Fauci and Dr. Francis Collins, the Director of the National Institutes of Health.** I found the information there on the current state of COVID-19 clear, thoughtful, and based in science.

Finally, although I will be essentially sheltering in place for the next year or more, I will dedicate myself to ensuring that I come out the other side with a real sense of personal accomplishment and change. My situation is rather benign compared to others and many fellow citizens face much greater challenges, so that’s the least that I can do. The number of friends and family members who have had COVID-19 is approaching a dozen in my case. One had a fever for six straight weeks while another was on a ventilator and remains in the hospital. Others had milder cases. We have good family friends who are grappling with very serious cancer issues in the midst of this pandemic. Some friends and former colleagues have lost their jobs or seen relationships frazzle. Others may be losing their apartments or homes. The saddest part is that it did not have to be this way, if we’d cared enough about our democracy and country to elect and support competent and empathetic leadership.

Accepting reality is the first step to beating the coronavirus and beginning to recapture the ideals our country was founded upon. This past week, I began to face those realities seriously. We are on this road for the long haul, and in many ways — if we want to fix our country — that’s a good thing. As the late John Lewis said in his 2017 memoir,

“Freedom is not a state; it is an act. It is not some enchanted garden perched high on a distant plateau where we can finally sit down and rest. Freedom is the continuous action we all must take, and each generation must do its part to create an even more fair, more just society.”

John Lewis, From his 2017 memoir, “Across That Bridge: A Vision for Change and the Future of America”

Don’t stop caring.

More to come…

DJB

*In the “you can’t make this stuff up category,” Woolery’s son came down with COVID-19 just days after the former game show host tweeted that everyone was lying about the virus in order to impact the election. Woolery quickly took down his Twitter account.

**I was friends with Francis Collins’s parents and have watched his career for years, including his appointment to head NIH in 2009 by President Barack Obama and his reappointment to that position in 2017 by Donald Trump. Dr. Collins was also the 50th and most recent recipient of the prestigious Templeton Prize which celebrates scientific and spiritual curiosity. An evangelical Christian, he has long worked to bridge the gap between those faith communities who question science and the broader scientific field. Fletcher and Margaret Collins were both amazing people. I learned a great deal from them and I have a great deal of respect for their son.

Image by jplenio from Pixabay

Rest in Peace, John Lewis

America just lost one of its most clear-eyed, moral leaders. John Lewis — civil rights hero on the front lines from lunch-counter desegregation in Nashville to Freedom Rides through a hostile South, the last remaining speaker from the August 1963 March on Washington, U.S. Congressman for 34 years, an activist to the end, and conscience for a nation — passed away Friday night after a six-month battle with pancreatic cancer. Representative Lewis was a hero to many because in this age of nonstop blathering nonsense, he spoke plainly about the hope for an America that — as Langston Hughes wrote — is the America that the dreamers dreamed. And he not only spoke, but he walked the talk, most famously when his skull was cracked more than fifty years ago while trying to walk across an Alabama bridge working for justice. 

There are many wonderful tributes to John Lewis pouring in. I recommend the statement of President Obama, who — when given a ticket to his history-making inauguration as the nation’s first Black American president to autograph — wrote, “It’s because of you, John,” to Lewis on January 20, 2009.

In his statement, The Rev. Dr. William J. Barber II hits at the need to restore the Voting Rights Act, which was passed soon after Lewis spilled his blood on the Edmund Pettus Bridge. That law was eviscerated in a cynical decision by Chief Justice Roberts and the Supreme Court in 2013 in spite of 25 years of consistent and strong bi-partisan support for maintaining controls over attempts at voter suppression in states which had shown no inclination to allow the full flowering of democracy. Within hours of that Supreme Court decision, states in the South began restricting voter access and their efforts continue today.

I was privileged and honored to meet Congressman Lewis twice and to hear him speak on both occasions about how important history — and the telling of the full American story — is to our understanding of the present and to building hope for the future. When the National Trust conference was held in Nashville in 2009, Congressman Lewis — speaking in the historic sanctuary of the Downtown Presbyterian Church that was founded by one of my ancestors — challenged us to believe in the idea that,

“My house is your house. My story is your story. The history of my people is the history of all Americans not just African Americans.” 

John Lewis, Nashville, Tennessee, October 2009

Hearing, understanding, and honoring the full diversity of America’s story is a lifetime of work that helps provide the connective tissue between the me and the we, and leads us to care for something larger than ourselves. The Congressman’s long-time quest to see a museum to African American history on the National Mall in Washington was part of his work for civil rights.

In June of 2018, Lewis sent out the following message on his Twitter account:

“Do not get lost in a sea of despair. Be hopeful, be optimistic. Our struggle is not the struggle of a day, a week, a month, or a year, it is the struggle of a lifetime. Never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble.”

Representative John Lewis

Lewis knew — from more than five decades in the trenches — that despair creates apathy, and apathy destroys activism. One activist who was in Lewis’s training camps in Mississippi in 1964 noted that “Giving in to despair is lazy surrender.” John Lewis was never lazy, and he never got lost in that sea of despair.

Finally, I encourage you to read the tribute of columnist Eugene Robinson, who wrote that Lewis lived, fought and triumphed by the words of Frederick Douglass: “Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will.”

How, then, should we remember this great man? Not with fuzzy, feel-good encomiums but with a clear-eyed look at his monumental accomplishments and the work still left undone.

Eugene Robinson, Washington Post, July 18, 2020

That seems to be as good a place to start in how to remember John Lewis as any.

Rest in peace, John Lewis. For everyone else, we need to get back to work on what really matters.

More to come…

DJB

Image: John Lewis in 1964 (l) and in 2006 (r)

UPDATE: Former President Barack Obama gave a very moving eulogy on Thursday, July 30th, at the funeral for John Lewis, held at historic Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta. It is long, but worth the effort.

Saturday Soundtrack: Songs for social distancing

I was listening to Oscar Peterson recently when he began the familiar Duke Ellington tune Don’t Get Around Much Anymore. I quipped, “Well, that could be my theme song for sheltering-in-place.”

Here we are, still pretty much stuck in our own bubbles for the foreseeable future, and not getting around much at all. While musing on our situation, the thought came to me that it could be fun — or at least distracting — to have a look here on Saturday Music at this testimonial to social distancing.

We’ll begin our exploration of this beautiful “I miss you” song with the version that put me on this quest — the Oscar Peterson arrangement, which I believe features Peterson on piano, the incomparable Ray Brown on bass, and Ed Thigpen on drums.* Then we’ll turn to Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald — jazz royalty — for their take on the standard. This out-of-focus clip is from the NBC telecast the Ella Fitzgerald Show, from April 1968. According to some online commentators, in the same show they recorded “Oh, Lady Be Good” and “Lush Life”. Bass and drum are played by musicians from the Ella rhythm section: Keter Betts and Louie Bellson.

It isn’t just the jazz cats who can make this number swing. I was surprised to find the 1987 version of a middle-age Paul McCartney rocking away on the Ellington standard. And New Orleans’ own Dr. John also has a great version of this stay at home anthem.

To shift the mood a bit, is there anyone more soulful than Sam Cooke? (That’s a trick question.)

And finally, from a 1992 concert, here’s Natalie Cole singing the song that she “recorded” as a duet with her dad, Nat King Cole, on Unforgettable.

You know the song is great when a wide variety of artists can make it their own. Enjoy…and stay safe by wearing your mask and social distancing as you venture out into public.

More to come…

DJB

*The YouTube video doesn’t indicate which record this version came from, and I’m not sure the picture goes with the album in any event.

Image by Gretta Blankenship from Pixabay.