November 20, 2020

Dear Interested Readers,

 

A Good Read In Preparation For A Better Future

 

If you are a regular reader of these notes, you know that I love to read. One of my favorite quotes is from Will Rogers, the famous humorist, who loved to say, All I know is just what I read in the papers, and that’s an alibi for my ignorance.” In response to that assertion, I can say, “Me too.” You may also know from previous “Musings” that I was not a “reader” until about age eight. Up to that time I was content to float along in the “slow reading group” and spent much of my time in class drawing pictures and being disruptive by speaking out at times that my teachers thought were inappropriate. I am fortunate to have started school in 1951 before we attempted to medicate children with hyperactive tendencies who were not toeing the line. I am sure that my poor mother worried that I was bound to be a failure in life because she purchased a copy of “Dick and Jane” and several subsequent readers, and tried to help me at home. I was a double failure, at school and at home, but don’t remember being concerned at all about the potential downside of my academic failures. 

 

In January 1953 my family moved from Shawnee, Oklahoma to Waco, Texas. It was a fresh start for me, and in retrospect the greatest advantage was that the First Baptist Church of Waco had a fabulous library. A wonderful old man, Frank E, Burkhalter who was a Columbia University trained journalist, enjoyed being the church librarian. He was a retired editor from the local newspaper, a former faculty member at Baylor University where there is now a journalism scholarship in his name, and the author of a history of the church. I knew him as the kindly old man who would let me evade Sunday School in the church library. 

 

I do not know whether or not Mr. Burkhalter was the reason that the children’s section of the church library was so generously stocked with good books or if that was the work of some other benefactor, but it was an impressive room. There were exciting titles to suck me into being a reader like Tom Swift and His Atomic Earth Blaster and Touchdown Twins, but the real hook for me was the shelf full of the little orange books that were the church’s collection of the Bobbs Merrill biography series describing the childhoods of famous Americans. They were interesting stories that may have been more fantasy than fact, but the last chapter was always a presentation of the hero as an adult. As I have said in previous posts, I read them all, and I have been a reader ever since. Those little orange books fueled an interest in history that made me a better student and that interest carried over into my adult life as an interest in reading biography, autobiography, political commentary, and history.

 

I get the same thrill now from a new book that I enjoyed as a child back in 1953 when I read Daniel Boone: Boy Hunter, written by Augusta Stevenson. There is nothing like the joy from the anticipation of a good read that holds the promise of new knowledge and insight about a subject or person of interest. I enjoyed that same old familiar feeling once again this week when I got my pre ordered copy of Barack Obama’s new book, A Promised Land. The book arrived on Wednesday. I am easing into the book because I want to savor every sentence to make the pleasure last as long as possible since I know that it will be a year or two before volume 2 is published, but I have read enough to agree with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, the Nigerian writer, whose New York Times review of A Promised Land begins:

 

Barack Obama is as fine a writer as they come. It is not merely that this book avoids being ponderous, as might be expected, even forgiven, of a hefty memoir, but that it is nearly always pleasurable to read, sentence by sentence, the prose gorgeous in places, the detail granular and vivid. From Southeast Asia to a forgotten school in South Carolina, he evokes the sense of place with a light but sure hand. This is the first of two volumes, and it starts early in his life, charting his initial political campaigns, and ends with a meeting in Kentucky where he is introduced to the SEAL team involved in the Abbottabad raid that killed Osama bin Laden.

 

The hardest part of the last four years for me has been the dual sense of loss and bewilderment. My sense of loss stems from the abrupt withdrawal of a compassionate and thoughtful leader who could always match the challenge of the moment with the most genuine and appropriate response. My bewilderment stemmed from the growing awareness that almost half of the country had detested every one of the minutes of the eight years he was in office. I know that I am biased when I believe that much of the resistance he faced and the continuing disdain that many harbor for him stems not from the fact that he is a Democrat but rather from the fact that he is Black, or as Isabel Wilkerson would say, from the reality that he is from the “lower caste.” His presence in office was a daily “in your face” for so many people who decided before he spoke that they disagreed with what he was going to say. 

 

Barack Obama does not need me to defend or explain him. He does an excellent job covering that ground for himself. It will be a while before I finish savoring every word, and I hope that you will join me at the banquet of memory and recommitment that he offers. I have been exhausted by Donald Trump. I need a good drink at the fountain of hope where Barack Obama has always offered a cup of relief. I have the hope that Joe Biden will frequently invite him for lunch, and give him an opportunity to offer advice in the good interest of the public. It is a relief to know that we can share in that same wisdom by reading his words. His wisdom stems from decades of examining his own aspirations and failures. As Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie writes:

 

Obama’s thoughtfulness is obvious to anyone who has observed his political career, but in this book he lays himself open to self-questioning. And what savage self-questioning. He considers whether his first wanting to run for office was not so much about serving as about his ego or his self-indulgence or his envy of those more successful. He writes that his motives for giving up community organizing and going to Harvard Law are “open to interpretation,” as though his ambition were inherently suspect. He wonders if he perhaps has a fundamental laziness. He acknowledges his shortcomings as a husband, he mourns his mistakes and broods still on his choice of words during the first Democratic primaries. It is fair to say this: not for Barack Obama the unexamined life. But how much of this is a defensive crouch, a bid to put himself down before others can? Even this he contemplates when he writes about having “a deep self-consciousness. A sensitivity to rejection or looking stupid.”

 

The desire and ability to critically and effectively examine one’s own life is rare. To be able to present that examination for others to review is even rarer. This same openness to self examination comes through in the multitude of recent interviews that the former president has given over the past week. In his interview with Terry Gross which was aired yesterday he answered her question of whether or not he was upset by seeing Donald Trump undo many of the things he had done by saying:

 

You understand that in a democracy, some of the steps you take can be undone. … You work out a little harder in the morning, you hit that treadmill a little tougher. Look, one of the things that is a strength of mine — I think sometimes maybe people consider it a weakness, because it frustrates them to see me not get more frustrated — is I tend to take the long view on things. And I try to remind myself that history does not just go forward. It goes sideways. It goes backwards sometimes. The path of progress is bumpy and there are going to be setbacks.

 

Wow! If you care about universal access to care and want to see progress on the six domains of quality in healthcare as we try to move toward the Triple Aim that sort of personal philosophy allows survival during times when progress through political action comes to a halt and many achievements are reversed. He continued:

 

Look, the Civil War and the 13th and 14th and 15th Amendments were followed by Jim Crow and the Klan and lynching. And that was horrific and heartbreaking. That didn’t negate the importance of the 13th, 14th and 15th amendments. It just meant that you got this far along this trek up the mountain and you made base, and then bad weather comes in and you have to retreat a little bit and some bad stuff happens, but you keep on trying. And I think that’s how I ended up feeling about what I got done during the presidency. I felt that we had advanced the causes that I care deeply about and that mattered to the American people. Not all of them were going to stick exactly the way I wanted. That didn’t negate the importance of pushing to try to get that stuff done.

 

This is not a demonstration of mindless optimism. It is hope tempered by experience, and demonstrates a willingness to pass the baton to the next generation. He continues:

 

Even in those areas where Donald Trump completely reversed course, the fact [is] that we set a baseline — for example, that universal health care is something that the American people should expect — that changes the conversation going forward in ways that then the next bunch of climbers can build upon. At least that’s what I tell myself. Now, look, do I occasionally curse when I’m reading the headlines over the last four years? Yes, I do. Have I had some venting or ranting on occasion with Michelle over the dinner table? Absolutely.

 

He is open and honest on the page and in person. Another interview that was precipitated by the election and by the publication of his book that is worth your notice appeared in The Atlantic this week. “Why Obama Fears for Our Democracy: In an exclusive interview, the former president identifies the greatest threats to the American experiment, explains why he’s still hopeful, and open” was written by Jeffrey Goldberg, the editor in chief of The Atlantic. Early in the piece Goldberg writes:

 

The broadest subject of our conversation was the arc of the moral universe: Does it still bend toward justice? Does it even exist? When Obama was elected 12 years ago, the arc seemed more readily visible, at least to that swath of the country interested in seeing someone other than a white male become president. But he now recognizes that the change he represented triggered an almost instantaneous backlash, one that culminated in the “birther” conspiracy that catapulted its prime propagandist, Donald Trump, to the White House.

“What I think is indisputable is that I signified a shift in power. Just my mere presence worried folks, in some cases explicitly, in some cases subconsciously,” Obama said. “And then there were folks around to exploit that and tap into that. If a Fox News talking head asks, when Michelle and I dap, give each other a fist bump, ‘Is that a terrorist fist bump?,’ that’s not a particularly subtle reference. If there’s a sign in opposition to the ACA in which I’m dressed as an African witch doctor with a bone through my nose, that’s not a hard thing to interpret.”

For Obama, though, the overarching story of America, and all humanity, is one of fitful progress—and nothing about the past four years has seemed to change his mind. Joe Biden’s election is proof that America moves forward; the persistence of racial animus and resentment-driven populism represents the difficulty of maintaining momentum.

 

I have bolded in the quote above what I believe is the source of Obama’s hope. He tenaciously holds on to hope and a belief that progress is inevitable in America. It comes up in all of the interviews and stands in stark contrast to the lies and hate that Donald Trump spouts in most of his tweets and at all of his rallies. Near the end of the preface to his book Obama writes:

 

What I can say for certain is that I’m not yet ready to abandon the possibility of America–not just for the sake of future generations of Americans but for all of humankind. For I’m convinced that the pandemic we’re currently living through is both a manifestation of and a mere interruption in the relentless march toward an interconnected world, one in which peoples and cultures can’t help but collide. In that world–of global supply chains, instantaneous capital transfers, social media, transnational terrorist networks, climate change, mass migration, and ever increasing complexity–we will learn to live together, cooperate with one another, and recognize the dignity of others, or we will perish. And so the world watches America–the only great power in history made up of people from every corner of the planet, comprising every race and faith and cultural practice–to see if our experiment in democracy can work. To see if we can do what no other nation has ever done. To see if we can actually live up to the meaning of our creed. 

 

I was inspired to become a lifelong learner by the little biographies of great Americans that I read in my church library. I was delighted to read in his book that Obama traces the beginning of his journey toward his life’s work from the time when he bought a box of books at a rummage sale at the Central Union Church which was across the street from the apartment in Honolulu where he lived with his grandparents. I am not sure that President Trump has even read The Art of the Deal. 

 

What comes though when one remembers Obama’s eight years in office, reads his wife’s memoir, listens to him talk about his new book, or reads the new book, is that he cares about the future of America and everyone on the planet. For him we are on a long journey. We are getting to our goals in a slow process of two steps forward followed by a pause or a few steps back, but he always can hope that the next move can be three steps forward. He has hope in the progress, and accepts the temporary setbacks as just a part of the whole. He may not get to the Promised Land and maybe you and I won’t get their either, but he believes that someday some future generation will get there because of what he tried to do and what other like minded souls will try to do. He advocates for the long view, and is willing to bet that subsequent generations will benefit from the progress we make now. I wish he saw a shorter road ahead, but his dreams seem tempered by experience. He is hopeful, but he knows we have a lot of work left to do.

 

I think that his view of the future applies to all of our current concerns, and especially to the future of healthcare. As the future unfolds, and as Joe Biden guides us toward an effort to “build back better,” I want to share President Obama’s hope. I am confident that a majority of Americans want a healthier America. I think that he is right when he contends that a large majority of Americans now believe that excellent healthcare is a right due to everyone. Much has been accomplished. There is still much to do.  Reading a book written by a trustworthy guide that offers us good reasons to hope is a good way to get in the mood for the next chapter of our collective story. 

 

Enjoying An Old Familiar Walk

 

The header for today’s post is a picture of Mount Kearsarge, one of the two significant mountains in my part of New Hampshire. The other mountain of note near us is Mount Sunapee which gets more notice than Mount Kearsarge because of its ski runs and the beautiful lake that is nestled at its base. Outsiders refer to our neighborhood as “the Sunapee region.” Those of us who live between these mountains are more likely to call our region “the Kearsarge region.” Both mountains are a shade under 3,000 feet, and that means that they don’t measure up to the four and five thousand footers, plus one 6000 footer, further north in the White Mountains. 

 

If you are only interested in mountains if they are impressively tall, then you would not pay much attention to either Kearsarge or Sunapee because there are more than one hundred and fifty mountains in New Hampshire that are taller than Kearsarge and about two hundred mountains taller than Sunapee. Mount Washington is more than twice as tall as either of them. 

 

The advantage that Kearsarge and Sunapee have is that they are not part of a big cluster of mountains like the White Mountains. They stand alone without competition in their immediate neighborhoods. As mountains go, they are big fish in a small pond. The great result of the fact that they don’t draw much attention is that our beautiful neighborhood is not trashed by all of the detritus of the tourism industry. 

 

Lake Sunapee which lies at the eastern side of Mount Sunapee is a semi large draw in the summer, but most of the people who come have a long term relationship with the area. Many come because their parents and grandparents have made summer on the lake a tradition for generations and their families own cottages and houses on the many lakes and ponds in the area. Many people from the metropolitan areas of the northeast come up to ski or hike, and then decide to buy a home in the area so that they can enjoy the water and the woods in spring, summer, and fall, and skiing on weekends in the winter. Unlike areas where there are hordes of tourists, there are few fast food outlets, tee shirt shops, restaurants, or motels. If there is a little weekend tourism around Sunapee there is nothing that surrounds Kearsarge other than two state parks that get little traffic. There are no ski runs, no condos, no fast food restaurants, and no co located discount malls. I like to think that by sacrificing a thousand feet of elevation we have preserved the rarity of natural beauty without co-located economic development.

 

It is remarkable to me that there are four little bodies of water underneath Kearsarge. If you are walking around Pleasant Lake you are at the foot of Kearsarge. If you are on Messer Pond, Kearsarge is a looming presence. Even if you hike into Clark Pond you get the same exclusive view of Kearsarge to the south. I like all of these scenes, but my favorite lake/mountain combination is Kezar Lake and Mount Kearsarge which you can see in today’s header. 

 

Lake Kezar is in North Sutton. Lyons Creek flows into it through a beautiful marsh, and the Lane River (only eight and a half miles long) flows out. Over the years there have been summer camps, a state park, summer cottages, and a few year round homes on its shores. The lake has a gorgeous three mile walkway that passes through the state park and circumvents the lake and the marshes. For the mile of so of the walk along the western shore you have the continuous company of gorgeous views of Mount Kearsarge. 

 

For many years my wife and I have made the eight mile drive over back roads and through pristine woods to the parking lot on the shore of Kezar so that we could enjoy the challenge of the walk around the lake. As my wife’s spinal stenosis advanced we were able to appreciate her disability by noting how far she could walk along Lake Kezar before she had to stop because of pain. When she could not get through the first quarter mile it was clear that she needed an intervention. We knew that she had enjoyed a surgical success when she was able to do the whole three miles!

 

It had been several months since I had gone to Kezar for a walk, but on Wednesday a close friend who walks there on a daily basis called and asked if we could discuss a common concern. My answer was, “Sure, why don’t we talk on a socially distanced walk around Kezar!” 

 

Late fall is not a great time for photography. It’s only advantage is that the angle of the sun often creates some interesting lighting perspectives. My problem is that it is hard to capture the beauty that I see with my eye with my iPhone. I know that the ads for the iPhone suggest that its cameras can work magic, but I am not a magician. Today’s header is my best effort from Wednesday’s walk. Better yet than depending on my skills as a photographer, let me suggest that if you are passing through my neck of the woods, give me a call and we can enjoy the combination of Kezar and Kearsarge together. 

 

Be well! I hope that you have a very special, and very safe Thanksgiving! Be careful when you get together indoors with your friends and family. Now that the weather is turning cold the greatest risks lie indoors. Be prudent and take advantage of places like Lake Kezar if you need to meet someone. Wear your mask and practice social distancing as best you can when you are out and about. Look for opportunities to be a good neighbor. Let me hear from you. I would love to know how you are managing the uncertainties of our times.

Gene