Salk

On this day, February 23, in 1954 a group of Pennsylvania children first received the Salk polio vaccine. Many today know little about the disease, which killed or paralyzed thousands in this country and worldwide each year. Children were often the most vulnerable, but Franklin Roosevelt contracted polio as an adult.

The story of the Salk vaccine is an inspiring one and its success, along with the later arrival of the Sabin vaccine, which could be administered orally, has saved countless lives in the seventy years that have now passed. This fact makes it immeasurably sad that vaccine denial could exist today, but I suppose if one chooses to get their news from social media they may be apt to believe anything, no matter how conspiratorial. I’ve shared thoughts about that issue before, but it never seems to go away.

The story of the polio vaccine is a modern miracle, but in thinking about it today, I am reminded of the signs of miraculous healing of cripples I saw years ago while traveling through Germany. We have the God-given ability to do medical miracles as did Jonas Salk and we should use it, but it’s also comforting to see that old-fashioned miracles can happen too. This is a poem I wrote about that experience.

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The Beatles

It’s hard to believe in many ways that it’s been sixty years since the Beatles first appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show, on February 9, 1964. I actually missed the airing, because it was on a Sunday night, a school night, but the girls in the firth grade could talk of nothing else the next day. Each had to excitedly say which one was their favorite. One even chose Ringo, perhaps just to be different.

73 million people watched the show that night, which was 40% of the country’s population, and there were lots of folks who didn’t have televisions back then. For some reason their playlist differs from source to source, but I believe they began with All My Loving,'” then “Till There Was You” and
She Loves You.”

At the end of the show they came on again and played “She Loves You, ” leaving out what had just become their first US #1 hit, “I Want to Hold Your Hand.”

It’s hard to comprehend the sustained impact the four members have had over sixty years. They just won another Grammy this week for a song they cobbled together using an old vocal track by John Lennon. Each was became genuinely accomplished musically, but the dual geniuses within Lennon and McCartney, together and separately continues to inspire to this day and likely will for generations, even as musical tastes evolve.

I wish I’d seen them that night, but I’m glad to have been around for these 60 years and for the soundtrack they gave to my life.

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Tutankhamun

It was on this day, January 3, of 1924 that the sarcophagus of Pharaoh Tutankhamen was uncovered by British Egyptologist, Howard Carter. He and a team of others had discovered the tomb two years earlier, but the mummy and treasures buried with it were only found on this day.

“King Tut,” as he is often colloquially referred to, reigned from the age of eight or nine for about nine years (1341-1323 BCE). His sarcophagus and items buried with him caused enormous interest one hundred years ago and remain marveled over today. They have traveled the world over that time, but rightfully remain in Egypt, where they illustrate the land’s heritage.

One tomb that remains undiscovered is that of Nefertiti, who may have been Tutankhamen’s mother. Some speculate that it lies behind a wall in Tut’s tomb, but Egypt has thus far refused to allow Tut’s tomb to be disturbed further.

Tut’s tomb was relatively small and was hidden by the homes of workers excavating other tombs, thus avoiding robbery, as had occurred with a number of other graves over the centuries. The Curse of the Pharaohs, which was said to doom any who disturbed the Pharaohs’ tombs, and several who were associated with Carter did die untimely deaths after the discovery.

And, of course, no discussion about Tutankhamen should omit reference to the hit song “King Tut” by the comedian Steve Martin and the Toot Uncommons. No doubt Martin’s success led to enough riches for him to rival the boy king.

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“God Bless Us Everyone”

A Christmas Carol was first published on December 19, 1843, 180 years ago today. In that time, it has never been out of print, and is unlikely to ever be, at least as long as we celebrate Christmas.

I read the book again at this time each year and am always moved by its message that Christmas can serve as a reminder that we can be better, more compassionate and kinder people. If you have never actually sat down and read the novella, rather than rely on its countless adaptations, doing so is a holiday gift you owe to yourself.

The book is written in five “staves.” Several years ago, I sat down and wrote Stave Six, Afterwards as an epilogue, set decades later. I had committed so much of the original to memory that I only had to check back once to be sure of one reference.

More than a few others have made their own sequels, mostly reminding that maintaining a giving heart over time is difficult and that we need reminding at this time of year. I began mine by taking Dickens at his word that Scrooge was true to his word and lived in the spirit of Christmas the whole year, though perhaps the same message applies.

This holiday season for many is not as “merry and bright” as we might wish, but I wish you hope and enough joy to be able to share the same with others in these dark time.

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Tea Party

The Boston Tea Party took place on this day, December 16, 250 years ago today. History often has its way of twisting facts over time to simplify tales, and that is true here. The protest was not over a new tax on tea, but instead over Parliament’s repeal of most of the Townsend Act’s import taxes. It failed though to repeal its tax on tea. Instead it allowed the British East India company to import cheap tea to the colonies, which was seen as an effort to acclimatize colonists to British rule (and perhaps lesser quality tea). Importantly, the same move also undercut American tea smugglers.

The three ships attacked were actually American ships. The “party” referred to was not an event, but actually the group involved, as in a political party. The perpetrators did dress like Indians, not as a disguise, but rather to add to the revelry. Other colonies had simply refused tea imports, forcing its return to England, but Massachusetts’s governor, whose sons were tea importers, stood firm, leading to the “party.” Sam Adams may or may not have helped plan the attack, but he did much to publicize it and to stir resentment against the British through it.

One possible consequence of the tax, the event, and the ire stirred by it all (other than ultimately the American Revolution), was that Americans, then and today, largely still spurn tea, unlike most of the world, but instead embrace coffee.

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Sixty Years

On November 22, 1963, sixty years ago today, President John F. Kennedy was shot and died in Dallas, Texas. As with other moments when time, or at least the world, stops, I remember where I was and how confused I felt at the time. I was nine years old and in Mrs. Wilson’s third grade class that afternoon. Someone came to the door and whispered, leaving her in shock and tears. A few minutes later, a television was rolled into the room, and we all watched the news reports in grainy black and white. As I recall, school was let out early, and I went home with my sister, where we watched into the evening.

Controversy swirled around the shooting, which was my first exposure to conspiracy theories. To this day, the question, “did Oswald act alone?” remains the litmus test for whether one believes in conspiracy claims. As a rule, I dismiss those who espouse such things, though I do like to think that Elvis was abducted by aliens and is still alive out there somewhere.

In ten more years, there are likely to be relatively few alive who will be able to say where they were on November 22, 1963. Caroline Kennedy is the only surviving Kennedy left today, and we are fortunate to have her dignity and to appreciate her lifetime of service.

Tragedies continue to abound and confound our world, but we continue to have hope for a future free of such events. I hope to last long enough to contribute to that dream.

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Tree of Life

Five years ago today, on October 27, 2018, eleven congregants were killed by a gunman at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh. In the wake of the October 7 Hamas attack in Israel, it seems worthy of looking back on this earlier tragedy. Words fail to express the horror of both events, and no one can undo the inhumanity of each.

The Pittsburgh gunman, who does not deserve to be named, was finally convicted and sentenced to death just this past August. Who knows how long the effects of the Hamas attack may go on.

I wrote a poem the day after the Pittsburgh attack centered around the Bar Mitzvah of a friend’s child that I attended there next day. All the details of the attack were still being gathered and a fact or two of mine turned out to be off, but the sentiment still weighs on me, particularly as the Middle East deals with the aftermath of this October 7.

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Sydney

The iconic Sydney Opera House was dedicated on October 20, 1973 by Queen Elizabeth, fifty years ago today. The winning design for the facility was based on a 1957 sketch that invoked the image of sails that would house several performing arts facilities within flying concrete arched shells. It took years to translate the sketch to a structure that was economically and physically able to be constructed.

I had the good fortune to visit the Opera House several years ago and, unlike some famous landmarks, is as impressive in life as in photographs. It serves as the anchor for a beautiful waterfront and city center and the wonderfully friendly city of Sydney. The harbor is one of the best in the world, with a fairly narrow entrance from which boats wind their way to a wide area busy with ferries and pleasure craft. the Opera House serves as the backdrop for the start of the annual Sydney-Hobart sailing race that begins each December 26, known as Boxing Day.

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Dreams

On August 28, 1963, the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom ended with MLK Jr’s speech from the Lincoln Memorial that culminated with the “I have a dream” climax for which it became known. Accounts from the day tell that Mahalia Jackson shouted to King from the stage to “tell them about the dream,” prompting him to stray from his prepared text and extemporize the most famous portion of his address.

I was nine years old that day, but had followed the march on the evening news and realized that I was witnessing history unfold. On this particular day, our black housekeeper with whom I had a bond, watched the events unfold on our television while ironing, instead of the daytime soap operas of the era. The photo above shows the event as I remember it, a massive crowd of blacks and whites applauding with press cameras capturing the moment in the black and white oeuvre of film from the era. I lived in the South then, as I always have, but couldn’t quite grasp the suppression of voting and employment rights they were fighting to end.

Sixty years later, much has changed and too much seems to remain the same. What I can’t grasp now is that many of my generation that witnessed the march and events of the 60’s have grown as intransigent and hateful as those that governed the South then. Some issues may have changed, but fundamentally, voting and employment rights are still seen as a zero sum game in which it seems more important to stand atop a crumbling world than to make it better for all.

Even in elementary school, we studied King’s speech alongside those of Lincoln and Kennedy, and I still believe that aspirations and the words that inspire them matter and can change minds and history. I visited South Africa this year and marvel at the courage of so many there that mirrored that of John Lewis a strong and gentle man, Andy Young, and others here. Free elections there are now celebrated but economic inequality remains for them a distant dream.

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Secretariat

Secretariat completed horse racing’s Triple Crown on this day, June 9, fifty years ago, in 1973. He was the first three-year old horse to win the crown in 25 years and did so commandingly, contending to be the greatest race horse of all time.

There is a long history of misuse, if not abuse, in the sport of horse racing, but in its purest the sight of a horse proudly speeding away is inspiring, and Secretariat captured that spirit. He was large and also larger than life, and according to those around him, seemed to know it. He was playful and proud, lending a sense that animals can, in their own way, be sentient.

Secretariat’s owners had to syndicate him before racing in his third year, due to estate tax issues following the death of the owner of his stable. Though he’d had a mixed record up to that point, the move allowed Penny Chenery to retain ownership of “Big Red” as he’d come to be known. His breeding results never led to a champion of his caliber, but then he was unique.

Secretariat died in 1989 of a hoof disease. Before burial, they measured his heart and found it to be two and a half times that of a normal horse. Anatomically, this certainly played a role in his stamina, but it also symbolized something special in a truly great horse.

In recent news, a number of horses died or were put down at Churchill Downs this season. An investigation is pending and may lead to better care for horses in the future.

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The Last Word

After all is said and done, more is said than done.

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