Too Much Storm

Cast worry aside

I love but one true flower,

Return safe to me.

haiku - under clouds of dust

my heart’s great sadness,

wafts barely lit through my soul,

i cry to touch you.

The Colonel

I met the Colonel in the 90s. After Garland Meadows died, the Colonel began sharing counter duties with a lady at Graves Apple Shed Store in Syria, Virginia. I met him one day far into the year when business had dropped off. I was looking for cider. He was tall, a good six – five I’d say, with a high fore head, straight as an arrow, rail thin, with close cropped hair, and getting on in years.

He smelled of Army. As retired Navy, I could sniff out a Marine, and he wasn’t one. That left Army. No Air Force guy would look that razor sharp in retirement.

I was wearing one of my many Navy ball caps, so he recognized me as a fellow military man, and we chatted often over the years. His name was Ervin Kattenbrink, from Tennessee, but Army travel or habit had squeezed most of his accent out of him.

Like everyone who minded the Apple Shed Store, the Colonel was a volunteer. I never understood what volunteers got out of their work, but the Graves must have given them something; volunteers tended to be long term “employees”.

Like me, the Colonel had come to live in Syria from his last active duty tour inside the Washington Beltway. He and his wife Jean, whom he had known since his days at West Point, which he pronounced WEST point, had one of the great romances of the 20^th century. They lived atop a mountain, overlooking the valley. Their house included a fish pond, for she loved to fish, and he loved her with all his heart. If she loved to fish, she would have a fish pond.

The Colonel had seen her picture via a friend while he had been at the Academy. She had run into a burning building to save someone. He had written to introduce himself, but her parents thought it improper for her to date a stranger, even one acquainted with someone she knew. But eventually they came to know each other, fell in love, and had a life long romance.

Sadly, Jean died of cancer in the mid 90s, and was buried in the Criglersville Cemetery, next to an empty plot where the Colonel would eventually join her. As far as I could tell, they were so much in love that neither was meant to outlive the other, but such is life.

I would often go bicycling, and end up at the store, talking to the Colonel. He would tell me about his life with Jean, his time in Vietnam (he had pictures), his admiration for Lou Gehrig (he had one of Lou’s jerseys!), the fact that he played a small role in the 1950s movie “The Thin Gray Line” (he was actually on camera for several seconds).

He was a faithful New York Yankees fan; he seldom missed a game broadcast on his satellite TV, and they carried every game.

One day the Colonel was gone. He could no longer live alone. He had moved to a nursing home, but his days there were short. It seemed that most of Syria and the surrounding area accompanied his body up the hill to be interred next to his beloved Jean. And there they will spend eternity, looking down together on the valley they loved.

Special Folks

Sometimes we meet people who make us feel better about ourselves. Sometimes you get to sleep with her every night! Sometimes she (or he) affects many.

There are people

Whom I know,

They shine like stars,

Reflecting off,

A glassy sea,

They glow within your life,

Spreading goodness from afar,

And when they’re near,

They let you make

A happiness

That is your very own.

David Leonhardt's Column on John McCain

John McCain was buried in a private ceremony at the Naval Academy yesterday. The week of goodbyes and vilification is over. Yes, there was plenty of vilification. If you read the mainstream media, or listen to CNN you didn't come across the rebukes, but if you're in the Trumpkin news stream, you heard over and over that John McCain cast the deciding vote that saved the hated Obama Care. You may also have heard that McCain started the fire on USS Forrestal that killed 138 men, and that his daddy, the fleet commander, covered it up. That last item was as much a provable lie as the first was demonstrably true. The genesis of the Forrestal fire was caught on the flight deck video camera, started by the accidental firing of a rocket from an aircraft type that McCain never flew. But let's not let facts get in the way of things we want to be true (millions who have gone through Navy fire fighting school have seen the video, and know that the Zuni rocket that started the fire came from an F-4 Phantom; McCain flew A-4s).

The Times' David Leonhardt wrote an excellent column this morning about the hypocrisy of the Republicans attending John McCain's funeral this week.

Lest you think I'm just some disgruntled Democrat, understand that I hold them in equal contempt for their similar shenanigans. They haven't had an opportunity like this since Senator Paul Wellstone's death, but they made the shameful most of it, turning his funeral into a circus. They have shown themselves to be at least as cynical as the Republicans. Their current protestations from the moral high ground stem from the fact that they are in a powerless minority.

John McCain's funeral is different. He understood that Donald Trump has stained the presidency, and he intentionally organized his funeral to, in Leonhardt's words, rebuke a president who needs rebuking.

They Sat in Hypocrisy

Congressional Republicans made a show of honoring John McCain, even as they continue to reject his principles

It was an act because they have not kept faith with the principles that McCain held dear — and that he himself organized his memorial service to celebrate, as a clear rebuke to Trump and Trumpism. McConnell, Ryan, Graham and the others have instead done the very opposite of keeping faith. They have made possible Trump’s hateful, petty, law-defying politics.

Despite running a branch of government that the Constitution makes equal to the presidency, they have meekly assented to Trump. Entrusted with power, they have chosen complicity.

They have refused to defend America’s national security in the face of Russian attacks. They have refused to defend the rule of law against Trump’s attacks. They have refused to defend the F.B.I., the Justice Department and the First Amendment. They have refused to defend the basic civil rights that Trump seeks to deny to dark-skinned American citizens, including the right to vote and the right to hold a passport.

When George W. Bush said the following words in his eulogy for McCain, what did the congressional Republicans in attendance think that Bush possibly could have meant:

“He was honorable, always recognizing that his opponents were still patriots and human beings. He loved freedom, with the passion of a man who knew its absence. He respected the dignity inherent in every life, a dignity that does not stop at borders and cannot be erased by dictators. Perhaps above all, John detested the abuse of power. He could not abide bigots and swaggering despots.”

When Barack Obama’s eulogy was organized around a recitation of McCain’s principles, what contrast could Obama have possibly been drawing:

“John cared about the institutions of self-government — our Constitution, our Bill of Rights, rule of law and separation of powers. … He understood that if we get in the habit of bending the truth to suit political expediency or party orthodoxy, our democracy will not work. … John understood, as J.F.K. understood, as Ronald Reagan understood, that part of what makes our country great is that our membership is based not on our bloodline; not on what we look like, what our last names are.”

And when Meghan McCain rose and did what her father advised for this occasion — she showed them how tough she was — surely the congressional Republicans knew exactly what she was referring to:

“The America of John McCain is generous and welcoming and bold. She is resourceful and confident and secure. She meets her responsibilities. She speaks quietly because she is strong. America does not boast because she has no need to. The America of John McCain has no need to be made great again because America was always great.”

The cathedral then broke into applause, not exactly a common occurrence during a eulogy.

Over the last few years, McCain sometimes struggled with how to respond to Trump. McCain first refused to endorse Trump, then caved, unfortunately, before ultimately revoking the endorsement. Once Trump took office, McCain went further in trying to restrain him than nearly any other Republican — but not as far as he could have. So McCain understood the political tensions facing the congressional Republicans he leaves behind: Trump remains extremely popular with Republican voters, and he can also help conservatives achieve their policy goals.

In the end, however, McCain saw the situation clearly. Political expediency and short-term policy goals are not worth undermining basic American values. It’s not even close.

In his final book, McCain described Trump’s behavior as “disturbing” and “appalling.” In one of McCain’s final public statements, he called out Trump’s “naïveté, egotism, false equivalence, and sympathy for autocrats.” And in McCain’s final public act, he turned his memorial service into a piercing alarm about a president of the United States damaging and threatening his own country.

The congressional Republicans inside the Washington National Cathedral on Saturday would surely say they came to honor John McCain. But they were there for show. Faced with a choice, they have rejected McCain’s America for Trump’s.

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