Category Archives: Places

Was it a Lynching?

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(Before we dive into this story, we ask our readers to please go back to Monday’s entry which required a major correction of information that incorrectly stated the position of a prominent former political leader from Missouri.)

Nancy and I went to Salisbury a few days ago where I had been asked to speak to the Chariton County Historical Society.

What happened during that speech is a reminder of something James Baldwin said: “History is not the past. History is the present. We carry our history with us. To think otherwise is criminal.”

William Faulkner said in a similar vein, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

Those are great quotations in today’s turbulent political times when it seems we have people who want us to ignore some of the lamentable events of years gone by—shadows of some of which remain present among us.

Whenever I speak to a county historical society I like to spend a day at the State Historical Society going through the newspapers that have been published in that county. We have 60-million pages of newspapers on microfilm so a huge amount of local history is within each spool of microfilm.

Folks are regularly surprised when I tell them how many newspapers have been published in their county. In Chariton County’s case, there have been 31.  I pull random reels of microfilm and spool a reel through a reader and start looking for random news accounts or advertisements that are informative and sometimes amusing but say a little something about that particular time and place.

I have wondered if any of the people in my audience are learning something about one of their ancestors—but until the visit to Chariton County I had never heard from anyone connected to one of the stories.

Sometimes, the news article I choose is difficult to hear.  Such is the case of a 1917 article in The Rothville Bee, that began, “The body of a negro, apparently dead about ten to twelve days, with limbs tied and wrapped in barb wire, was found in the Missouri River below Brunswick Sunday of last week. The body was later identified as being that of William Wilson of Brunswick…Examination disclosed a bullet wound through the heart and a scalp wound, indicating that the negro was murdered.”

The historical society had more people watching the presentation on its streaming internet feed than it had room for in the museum (which, by the way, is an outstanding county history museum, and they’re expanding). A few days after the speech I got an email from one of those viewers:

“One of the news articles you read was from the Brunswick newspaper regarding a man found in the river by the name of Bill Wilson, I think this is about my grandfather.  I would love to visit with you about the article and see if we can uncover anything additional regarding his murder.”  

I couldn’t provide him with anything more than I had because the article had been picked randomly but I did give him the names of several newspapers in the county that might have had follow-up articles and several from surrounding counties since the body had been found in the Missouri river.  And I suggested some courthouse records he might check—if they still existed 106 years after the fact.

But I cautioned him he might not find much because Chariton County, just before the Civil War, had a population that was about 25% enslaved.  And 1917 in Missouri was a time when the Klan was active. The murder of a Black man might not have elicited the kind of investigation a white man’s murder might have created.

Last week, I was back at the Center for Missouri Studies for a meeting and I built in some extra time to run down the original newspaper article.  The Rothville Bee had reprinted a story from the Brunswick Brunswicker that I discovered originally had been published in the Salisbury Press-Spectator. Each iteration had a difference of small details.  The the original story concluded with a discouraging but not unexpected comment:

“There seems to be no special interest in the matter as the negro’s reputation was bad.”

So it will, indeed, be surprising if there are any follow-up stories. Why was his reputation bad?  That might be hidden in reports generated by the sheriff or the coroner or the county prosecutor—-if they still exist and if they went into any detail, which seems remote.  Family legend might give some hints.

The State Archives, which has thousands of death certificates from 1910 onward has no death certificate for William Wilson of Chariton County in 1917.  The archives of the state penitentiary show no William Wilson who matches the timeline or the description of this man so we don’t think his “bad reputation” was so bad as to merit prison time.

The Chariton County Prosecuting Attorney at the time was Roy B. McKittrick who later was elected to the Missouri Senate and, with the backing of Kansas City political boss Tom Pendergast, was elected Attorney General.  He turned on Pendergast and teamed with Governor Lloyd Stark and with U. S. Attorney Maurice Milligan to break the Pendergast organization. Pendergast eventually went to federal prison for tax evasion. They also broke up a major scandal in the state insurance department and sent Pendergast crony R. Emmett O’Malley, the state insurance superintendent, to federal prison for tax fraud. McKittrick and several other Democrats were involved in an effort to keep Republican Forrest Donnell from assuming the governorship in 1940.  He ran against Donnell in 1944 for the U.S. Senate but lost. He lost a race for governor to Forrest Smith in 1948.  He died in 1961 and the story of the investigation of the murder of William Wilson seems to have died with him.

Harriett C. Frazier, in her book, Lynchings in Missouri 1803-1981,  says there were at least 227 cases of “mob murder’ in Missouri during that time. The Equal Justice Initiative has counted sixty African-Americans who were lynched, 1877-1950  The archives at Tuskeegee Institute says 53 Whites and 69 Blacks were lynched in Missouri between 1882-1968.

William Wilson’s name is not on any of those lists.  Should he be?  The fact that he was bound in barbed wire, shot, and thrown into the river with a weight tied to him points to a hardly routine killing.

But the event has been lost to history, recorded only (as far as we know) in old small-town newspapers in one of our smallest counties, and barely reported at that, more than a century ago.  Even family memories or family stories have had time to fade in the telling and re-telling.

—and the only thing we know about William Wilson is that he died a terrible death in 1917 and, it seems, nobody cared much about finding his killer(s).

More than a century after his murder, the United States Congress finally got around to declaring lynching a federal crime.  One of these days we’ll tell you about a Missouri Congressman who didn’t live to see the law that he pushed throughout his career finally adopted.

Ignorance gone to seed 

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My friend Derry Brownfield had an expression that describes somebody doing something so egregiously stupid that it causes jaws to drop in total disbelief.

A few days ago, a tourist in Rome was accused of carving into the walls of the Coliseum, something such as “Igor+Muffy2023” to show his undying affection for his girlfriend. After he was arrested, the young sculptor/love-struck fool sent a letter of apology to the local prosecutor.  He gave as his excuse, “I admit with the deepest embarrassment that only after what regrettably happened, I learned of the antiquity of the monument,”

The “thud’ you hear is the jaw of your correspondent striking the area carpet covering the hardwood floor under my chair. It has happened every time I have read the account of his apology.

He did not know that he was defacing a structure that was built about 2,000 years ago? Did he spend his entire education playing video games in class?  Did he make it through thirteen grades of school and however many years of college without ever hearing ANYTHING about ancient Rome?

This is one of those times when it is common for millions of people to think, “How could anybody be that stupid!!!!!!” (I probably did not include enough exclamation points, actually).

The Coliseum is only one of the most recognized structures in the entire world. How can somebody NOT know it and the ruins of the Roman Forum and other obviously ancient features in Rome that the city and a lot of its structures dates back to Biblical times?

It’s ROME, for God’s Sake!  The place is old. Could he not tell it’s old just by looking at it?  Did he think it was built like that just last week? 

Why did he go there to begin with?  What was he expecting to see—lots of buildings by Frank Lloyd Wright?  (This assumes he knows what a Frank Lloyd Wright is.)

What did he think went on in the Coliseum?  The Rome Lions versus the Florence Christians in the Chariot Bowl?  He seems to say in his apology, “Golly, I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t thought it was sort of new.” As if there’s nothing wrong with spray-painting anything made or built within his lifetime that sits still long enough to be attacked by a clown with a pressurized can or a chisel.

Somewhere in the last twenty or thirty years, a new culture has been created that says it’s okay to display your decorative skills by spray painting property that does not belong to you and for which you have no permission to paint—or carving your initials in something made of more solid materials twenty centuries ago.  “See how brilliant I am?  I can paint or chisel my name and other names or even paint a suggestive or profane slogan on your property.  You’re welcome. I did it to enhance public appreciation of your property (building, boxcar, subway car, billboard, town sign). And I really like your day-glow red St. Bernard now, by the way.”

Equally troubling is his apparent belief that he can just deface any building he wants to deface.  Places such as this were created, whenever, so people like him can carve away at the stone if they feel romantically or artistically inclined.

Where do these people come from?  The ones who carve their names in the rocks of world monuments and satisfy their personal artistic muses by turning somebody else‘s property into their canvas or carving piece?

Wouldn’t it be interesting to talk to their parents?   And see how proud they are of their children for their overwhelming self-expression and how they want to commemorate their immortal love for one another.  Or until their gap year ends, mom and dad’s money runs out, and they go to separate homes.

There are better ways to make your mark on the world. I wonder if such a thing will occur to those whose ignorance has gone to seed.

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Could we survive yesterday?

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Someone asked me the other day, “If you could go back 150 years, what would be the first things you would notice?”

It took me about two seconds to come up with an answer—because I’ve sometimes thought it would be interesting to be able to go back as an invisible observer of the past.

“Color,” I said. “And smells.”

“And the water would kill us.”

The images with which we are most familiar are all one-dimensional and black and white.  Take that picture of great-great-grandfather and grandmother and imagine what a shock it would be to meet them on the street, in three dimensions, their flesh the same color as yours, eyes (perhaps) the same color as yours, hair—-well it might be the same color but it also might be pretty greasy with the men and not particularly clean with the women.

And they likely would have an odor about them, especially if you met them at this time of year.  Stale sweat for one.  Showers were unknown in most homes (indoor plumbing of any kind). Bathtubs were not as well-used as our tubs and showers are now.  Underarm deodorant was nonexistent.  Mum was the first underarm deodorant, and it didn’t come along until 1888, a paste applied under the arms, by hand.  Deodorant, not anti-perspirant.

Underwear probably went a few days before changing.

In those days, if everybody stank, nobody stank.

Last year, I was on the town square in Springfield, Illinois and I noticed a sign on one of the historic buildings denoting it as the former home of the Corneau and Diller Drug Store. The sign said the store had been opened in 1849 by Roland W. Diller and Charles S. Corneau, who installed a big wood stove circled by chairs, making the pace a popular place for mento gather and swap stories or discuss events of the day including politics, a subject that was appealing to Abraham Lincoln, whose law office was a short walk away.

Wife Mary purchased toiletries there “such as bear’s oil, ox, marrow, ‘French Chalk’ for her complexion, a patent hairdressing called ‘Zylobalsam,’ and ‘Mrs. Allen’s Restorative.”

It continues: “Because daily bathing was not yet customary, the Lincolns—like most other people—bought cologne by the quart!”

Visitors to the Steamboat Arabia Museum in Kansas City can purchase 1856 French Perfume.  It’s not the real stuff that was found when the boat was excavated but it is a reproduction.  The museum sent a bottle of some of the real stuff to a laboratory in New York that did a chemical analysis and reproduced the perfume.

It’s strong stuff.  But for hundreds of years, perfume often was not the olfactory decoration and attraction that it is today; it was a masking agent sometimes poured on and sometimes used to soak kerchiefs that were kept up the sleeves and used to waft away some personal unpleasantness of a companion.

So color and odor would be the first things to jolt us if we went back 150 years.

But the smells would not be confined to the people you meet on the streets.  The streets themselves would be pretty rank.

The New York Almanack published an article a couple of years ago observing that the city had 150,000 to 200,000 horses, each of which produced “up to 30 pounds of manure per day and a quart of urine…over 100,000 tons a year (not to mention around 10 million gallons of urine.”

“By the end of the 19th century, vacant lots around New York City housed manure piles that reached 40 or 60 feet high. It was estimated that in a few decades, every street would have manure piled up to third story levels.”

Jefferson City’s streets didn’t produce that much manure and urine.  But New  York’s problems were the problems of every city in the country, including the capital city.

The manure on the dirt streets (such as High Street in Jefferson City) attracted flies by the thousands, millions.  New York once estimated that three-billion flies were hatched from street poop every day.  They were disease carriers. The dust from the streets and the dried manure mingled in the air, was inhaled and worn on the clothing.

And when it rained in the summer or when the show thawed in the winter, the streets turned into a gluey muck that was tracked into every business and home in town—except for the ones that required footwear to be removed before or upon entering—at which point socks that weren’t changed daily added their own atmosphere to life.

These conditions led to the rise in some communities of a new institution—the country club.  People needed a place in the country where they could breathe clean air, at least for a day or two.  Golf courses and horse-racing tracks developed outside of towns.

Missouri Governor Herbert Hadley, who suffered from a lung disease—pleurisy—bought a farm west of town and several prominent residents gathered one weekend for a big barn raising and cabin-building.  Later, a nine-hole golf course was created and thus was born the Jefferson City Country Club.

Sanitary sewer systems were rare. Homes had outhouses, often not far from the well that provided the house with water.

If we went back 150 years and took a drink of the water of the day, we probably would choke on the taste and if we dank a little too much, we might just die of a water-borne disease.  Even with natural immunity that residents of those times developed, the average life expectancy in the United States in 1880 was 40, a good part of it because of high infant mortality and primitive obstetrics that led to high mortality rates for women giving birth.

We forget how tough, how strong, our ancestors had to be to survive in such an environment.  The Missouri State Penitentiary kept a log of every Confederate prisoner it took in.  The average prisoner was 5-feet-7 and weighed 140 pounds.  Women prisoners averaged 4-feet-11.

Imagine wearing a wool uniform, marching ten or 20 miles a day carrying a heavy rifle and a 50-pound backpack, eating unrefrigerated rations and drinking whatever water you could find, even if it was downstream from a cattle farm.

The good old days weren’t very good.  The problem with going back to them is that we might not live long enough to return.

 

Notes From a Quiet—

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Road.

Your traveling correspondent has been on the road for a month, from Cincinnati and Indianapolis to Illinois to Colorado and Texas.

He has not been to Auxvasse.

Auxvasse is the home to 1,001 people.  At least it was in the most recent census.  It has a total area of three-quarters of a square mile.  It’s a few miles north of Kingdom City, the crossroads of Missouri.  You might catch a glimpse of its former small business district as you flash past it on Highway 54.  The town tavern has survived.

It originally was called Clinton City when it was platted in 1873 but changed its name to honor a nearby creek because the postal service was easily confused by the presence of another town in Missouri named Clinton, with no “city” on the end. It has had a post office since 1874. It is the largest populated area in Jackson Township of Callaway County.

Blogger Tom Dryden, who might be the most famous person to come from Auxvasse—because of his blog—notes that the town website refers to the community as “the third largest fourth class city” in the county.  He says I have been pronouncing its name incorrectly, Oh-vawz.  No, it’s “Of auze.”

Dryden wrote a loving tribute to his hometown in his October 23, 2016 entry. I suggest you check him out at TOMDRYDEN.COM.  He has written some other things about the town and its people, too.

Dryden admits the town is so insignificant he cannot convince his car’s GPS system that it exists, which led him to concede in his May 14, 2012 blog entry, “When you’re from Auxvasse, you can’t go home again.”

I can appreciate his love for his town because I grew up in a couple of small towns in Illinois—one of about 1,500 people (Mt. Pulaski) and the other of about 3,300 when we moved there (Sullivan), probably considered big cities when Tom was a kid.

Now I live in a REALLY big city. Jefferson City (43,228 people in the most recent census).  And Auxvasse has been irritating me for decades.

(By the way, we made an interesting discovery on our way back from Albuquerque last weekend.  We drove through Wichita, which has a listed population of 397,552 in the 2020 census.  St. Louis claims 301,578.  Wichita, Kansas is bigger than St. Louis!!.  Sedgewick County can’t hold a candle to St. Louis County, though, so St. Louis is still a bigger metro area)

Tom Dryden’s GPS doesn’t know where Auxvasse is. But he’s wrong. He CAN go home again. The Missouri Department of Transportation makes sure of that. Interstate 70 exit 148 has a big green sign—

Maybe it’s a conversation piece designed to keep drivers bored by hundreds of miles of billboard-ugly, mostly straight, highway alert by trying to figure out (a) how to pronounce that top word and (b) why it is important enough to be on the highway sign.

“Hey, Maude, get out yer Triple-A guidebook and look up Ox-Vassy and see what’s there.”

“It’s not listed, Claude.”

“They why do you suppose Missouri wants you to go there?”

Well, why does it?

Why doesn’t the sign say “Jefferson City?”  It’s only the state capital, you know.  It’s only the place where the department has its headquarters.

Heck, with Kingdom City’s development into almost-Effingham West, why isn’t Kingdom City on the sign?

We are left to ponder whether Auxvasse has the distinction of being the smallest town in Missouri, or in America, to be listed on an Interstate Highway exit ramp sign.

But it just irritates the sock off me that Jefferson City apparently is less important to the department than Auxvasse is.   I will confess, however, that there have been some times when I’m just one more tired and semi-dangerous driver on the road late at night, that seeing that sign has kicked up the mental processes just enough to make it the last 30 miles or so home safely.  That and the Coke I get at the Kingdom City McDonald’s drive-through window.

Congratulations to Auxvasse, though.  Every day, tens of thousands of people go past a sign that says it is more significant than the capital city of the state. If I lived in Auxvasse, I’d be proud of that.

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Celebration Time—C’mon!

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By Bob Priddy, Missourinet Contributing Editor

Some sports know how to celebrate a victory.  Others just have participants shake hands and go to the locker room.

Admittedly it’s hard to go crazy ninety or 100 times a year in a baseball season, or thirty times if you’re a top NCAA basketball program.  Winning the Super Bowl, the World Series, the Stanley Cup, the NBA Championship—all of those have major celebrations.

But 36 times a year, it’s confettiville—

—at a NASCAR Cup race.   The winning driver is in there someplace.

And it’s time to smoke ‘em because you’ve still got ‘em—–

There’s a car in there.  It just won the NASCAR Cup race at Worldwide Technology Raceway and it’s traditional for the winner to cut roaring donuts and burn off what’s left of the rubber on the rear tires.

And then, in Kyle Busch’s case, to get out of the car and bow to the crowd that often responds with a mix of cheers and boos.

Then the car goes to victory lane for the hurricane of confetti.

and then there’s  celebration with the crew.

Some folks don’t understand why your correspondent likes auto racing.  That’s okay.  I don’t have much good to say about the NBA (I went to a game in Washington, D.C. once and felt that I was at some kind of a carnival that was interrupted by some big guys playing some version of basketball.)  And soccer?  A lot of guys running around a big field for an undetermined amount of time and a team that scores a goal in all of that is a winner.  Horse racing?  One lap is all I get?

Auto racing also is more fan friendly than many sports.  Where else can fans chat with four players before a big game as this fan was doing in the garage area at WWTR? Full-field autograph sessions are often held before a race.  And there are lots of selfies—-

—in this case with Missouri’s most successful NASCAR driver, Rusty Wallace, who was at the track to drive some exhibition laps in his favorite car. It even has a name,  Midnight.

Or photos with prominent participants—in this case with Jamie Little, who is a pit reporter for the FOX television team.

Have you ever heard of the Chiefs inviting fans out of the stands for an autograph or selfie session at Arrowhead Stadium before a game?

So these guys went out and do what they do.  It took about six hours to finish the race because of a 105-minute delay while potential unsettled weather moved out of the area. A lightning strike several miles away triggered the precautionary step. The race included nine on-track caution periods.

One other social note about the race.  Among the spectators, actually a special guest of the Illinois political folks who sponsored the “Enjoy Illinois 300” was this fellow:

We don’t know if Governor Parson got any autographs or had his picture taken with any drivers (or vivacious TV reporters) but he seemed to be enjoying things.  We didn’t know he was a car-racing fan although as a former sheriff he probably had his share of high-speed adventures.  We hope he had a good time, probably more comfortable than we did on a 90-plus degree day walking from one end of the track to the other in our hot photographer’s vest that the track provided so my camera could go to certain places.

And I couldn’t help myself, but seeing him at a race track in sight of the Gateway Arch reawakened an irritation that has been in mind for more than twenty years.   On the other side of our state, some promoters were looking for some tax incentives to build a major NASCAR track near the Kansas City airport.  The legislature, showing the vision that it sometimes shows, refused any help. So, in 2001, within sight of the Kansas City skyline, the Kansas Speedway opened and has triggered a massive industrial development around it.

Maybe a lot of readers don’t understand this racing thing and why people enjoy it so much.  But it is huge economically.  And Missourians are going to a track in Madison, Illinois—as Governor Parson and I and a lot of other Missourians went last weekend—or to the Kansas Speedway, or to the high-banked Iowa Speedway (with design consultation from the aforementioned Rusty Wallace) but we could have had our own track and its economic development around it.

But we blew it. Or our legislature did.

Kyle Busch had plenty of chances to blow the race last weekend at WWTR.  He withstood challenges from Kyle Larson and Denny Hamlin on a series of late-race restarts after crashes to finish half a second ahead of Hamlin. Last year’s winner, Joe Logano, was third with Larson fourth and Martin Truex Jr., one of the drivers talking to a fan in the garage area we showed you earlier, fifth.

Late that night—the race ended about 9 p.m. after eleven caution periods and a stoppage for almost two hours because of lightning in the area—-two big trucks passed your correspondent on Interstate 70—haulers carrying some of the cars that will race next weekend on a road course at Sonoma, California.

(INDYCAR)—Much—but certainly not all—of the skepticism about the raciness of the Detroit street course seemed to have gone away by the end of Sunday’s race, won by Alex Palou.  The track’s roughness, ninety-degree corners and tight passing areas had raised concerns during practice.  Some drivers thought the long front straightaway remained too bumpy and left them unable to advance as they would have liked. One team owner, Chip Ganassi, thought the GP was “a really good race” despite earlier fears that chaos would take place.

Race organizers say they’ve been listening closely to the criticisms and will have a better circuit next year.

Palou started from pole and led 74 of the 100 laps. Runnerup Will Power led fourteen of the others and finished about 1.2 seconds back.

Felix Rosenqvist was third with Scott Dixon continuing his consistent runs this year with a fourth.  Palou led by as many as nine seconds but at the end was only 1.2 seconds up on Power. He was one of the skeptics earlier, calling the course “too tight for INDYCAR, too short for INDYCAR.”  He complained it was “too bumpy.”  At the end of the race, however, he conceded, “I was a really fun race. It was a lot better than I expected.”

(FORMULA 1)—-Red Bull’s Max Verstappen makes it five wins  in seven races this year with a victory in the Spanish Grand Prix. His closest competitor was 25 seconds back.  The results have prompted INDYCAR star Will Power to pronounce Formula 1 racing incredibly boring and not nearly as exciting as INDYCAR racing.

(MIZ)—Finally, Missouri bas a big guy.  And we meet big.  REALLY big. How about 7-feet-5 inches?  Connor Vanover has played at the University of California then moved to Arkansas and was with Oral Roberts University last year.  Petty good stats: 34 games, shot 52% from the field and 32 percent from outside for an average of about 13 points a game. Better than 81 percent of his free throws found the net. 7.2 rebounds, 3.2 shots blocked.

This will be his only year at Missouri. His college eligibility will be finished.

But how’s this for a Tiger front line?  Jordan Butler at 6-11, Vanover at 7-5 and Mebor Majak at 7-2.

(THE BASEBALL)—-Why talk about our teams when we can talk about Albert?

He has a new job.  He’s a special assistant (in other words, a consultant) to Commissioner Rob Manfred, advising him on issues related to the Dominican Republic and other areas. Pujols also is in the broadcast booth as of tonight (Tuesday) as an analyst on an MLB Network. l

Okay, now the teams: The once lowly Pittsburgh Pirates sank the Cardinals back into last place in the division by sweeping the Redbirds during the weekend—after the Cardinals had had to days off to rest up after a poor road trip.  They’re 10 games under .500 but the good news is that they’re playing in a division so weak that the leader is only five games above .500.

The Royals?  They continue to be so bad that if they were in the same division as the Cardinals, they’ve be seven games behind the Cardinals going into this week’s games.

The only team in the major leagues with a worse record is 12-49, the Oakland Athletics.

 

The genetic pull

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No, not the genetic pool.  The pull.

Some of the few who read these profound thoughts will understand when I ask if  you’ve ever felt drawn to a place or to an event because its in your genes—-because something was planted in your DNA early in your life and your life isn’t complete if you can’t see or do something?  Because there are instinctual longings that drive you to do, to be, or to go—-just as instinct drives the gees south in the fall and north in the spring, as the Wildebeest is driven in constant migration following the good grass from north to south to north to south, despite the lions, leopards, jaguars, and cheetahs, or big crocs in the streams.

A few years ago we were in the middle of it, on the Masai Mara in Kenya (in a balloon over it, in fact, one morning), and in the Serengetti National Park and the Ngorongoro Conservation area of Tanzania.  In the lower right corner is the Ngoroongoro Crater, where even an elephant is overpowered by the magnificence of the surroundings.

Go there if you ever get the chance.  We’ve been.  And right now our next big trip will be across Kansas, where there used to be gigantic fish-things whose bones have turned to rock—and you can stop in Hays and see them.

Many folks hate to drive across Kansas.  Not us.  In fact we feel it whenever we go to something in Kansas City. There is a faint whisper in our genes that says, “Don’t stop here.”

We think it’s because her mother’s family was from the Larned area and my ancestors, on both sides, moved to north-central Kansas’ Mitchell County not long after the last Indian raid.  We have a Kansas Gene.

The Flint Hills and the Tall Grass Prairie, the rolling prairies that stretch before us as the sky grows larger as we head beyond Salina.  Not until Hays, the home of the Sternberg Museum’s fish things and the remains of other fascinating beings, is the rising flatness something we notice. But the sky is all around us (as are big trucks) and the sky is open and uplifting.

The Garden of Eden is out there, you know.  We’ll let you look it up.  But it’s worth a jaunt a little to the north to break up the trip.

As we cross the Colorado line, we confess, we have to remind ourselves we’re still at least two hours from seeing the first faint outlines of mountains. But we’re done with the quiet stateliness of Kansas.  Let’s get to the dramatic stuff now.

The problem is—there’s too much Kansas in Colorado.

The other problem is that it’s I-70.  We understand why people get bored crossing Kansas on I-70 but we wish they appreciated the fact that it’s the road, not the landscape or the places along the way, that is boring.  It’s I-70 on the land beyond the windmills and before the sighting of the mountains that becomes tedious, even for us.

We are going to answer the call of our genes in a few days.  Time to visit the granddaughters at the foot of the Rockies in Longmont.  That means a day and a half on the road, most of it enjoying Kansas in warm weather.

But before than I have a personal gene pull that has to be satisfied.  I’m off later this week to the east, to the City of Indianapolis—a prototype for a big city that wants to reclaim itself—and to the Greatest Spectacle in Racing.

There are those who are surprised that an educated and literate person can also like to watch noisy very fast cars going so fast that it’s impossible to read a sponsor’s message  on the side of the car.  This corrupted gene was planted almost (Oh, Lord!  Just saying this give me chills) seventy years ago.  Something about the unique climate of the event, as well as the event itself, is a magnet.

In my working days, the trip to Indianapolis was a step toward freedom after being cooped up for four and a half months inside the pressure cooker that is the Missouri Capitol in the closing days of the legislative session.

And I’m going to watch 33 people hurl themselves around a 2.5-mile squared oval at 230 mph-plus, turns included. I have tried to think of something else that is so frightening yet so remarkable and the closest I can come is Olympic downhill skiing.

Why go?  Because it’s the Indianapolis 500.  It is part of my genetic programming. My parents took me there for the first two or three times. I have taken my self there for as long as I have had a driver’s license.

I do not know if the those I will watch ever think about Theodore Roosevelt’s famous remarks about “the man in the arena,”  those who “strive valiantly; who know the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spend themselves in a worthy cause; who at best know the triumph of high achievement and who, at worst, if they fail, fail while daring greatly, so that their place shall never been with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.”

Some people like to watch birds. Some like to chase little white balls around well-manicured courses. Let me admire the courage and the remarkable precision of 33 cars going 230 mph and turning left, perfectly putting wheels where they must, running within inches of one another. In my genetic makeup, that beats the tar out of watching a little white ball slowly curl its way into a hole.

So, pick the adventure your genes call on you to take. If it’s genetic, it can’t be wrong.  And don’t pay attention to those who think you are odd.

Greatness is not achieved by those who think those who push the envelope are odd.

-0-

The Mistake

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The Mistake

The man St. Louis Cardinals fans have loved to hate for almost forty years died last week. Don Denkinger was 86.  Cardinals fans have been whining about his missed call at first base during game six of the 1985 World Series, claiming Denkinger cost them the series championship.

He didn’t.  The St. Louis Cardinals cost the St. Louis Cardinals the championship that year. The Kansas City Royals took opportunities to beat them.  Denkinger’s call was one of those opportunities.

Major League Basebll didn’t have instant replay in 1985. In fact, MLB was the last of the fourmajor sports in North America to allow it.  And that didn’t happen until 23 years after that World Series. Had it been in effect then, the play would have been overturned.

Let’s look closely at that play because there’s a lot that had happened before it, a whole lot that went on during it, and a lot that came afterwards.

The series opened in Kansas City and the Cardinals won the first two games. In the first game, John Tudor and reliever Todd Worrell held the Royals to just one run and the Cardinals won 3-1.  The Cardinals also won game two.  Royals pitcher Charlie Liebrandt shut down the Redbirds through eight innings but manager Dick Howser decided to let him finish the game instead of bringing in ace reliever Dan Quisenberry. Liebrandt was one out away from tying the series at a game a apiece but allowed four runs before Quisenberry came in for the final out.  The Cardinals won 4-2 and headed back to St. Louis two games up and headed for their home field. That inning was the only inning during the entire series that the Cardinals scored more than one run.

Governor Ashcroft booked a special World Series Special train that carried St. Louis and Kansas City fans to St. Louis and I was one of the media persons on board.  Recalling that the Royals had fallen behind Toronto in the American League Championshp Series and then rallied to winthe series, I visited the Cardinals fans car and asked one of the red-capped celebrants, “Do the Royals have the Cardinals right where they want them?”  I was assured that wasn’t the case.

But they did.

Brett Saberhagen beat the Cardinals and Joaquin Andujr in game three 6-1.

Tudor was back for game four and threw a complete game five-hit shutout.  The Cardinals were up three games to one and could win the Series at home the next day.  Only four times in baseball history had a team down three games to one rallied to win the World Series.

Danny Jackson held the Cardinals to just five hits and one run in game five with the Royals winning 6-1,  Jackson pitched an immaculate 7th inning—three strikeouts on nine itches—and to this day is the only pitcher to do that in a World Series. The Royals headed back to Kansas City and that famous sixth game down three games to two.

Game Six:  Most fans forget that Denkinger’s missed call was not the only missed call in the game.  The Royals’ Frank White appeared to have stolen second in the fourth inning but was called out.  Two pitchers later, Pat Sheridan singled to right, a hit that likely would have scored Whie from second and put the Royals up 1-0

Danny Cox and Charlie Liebrandt held their opponents scoreless through seven innings before the Cardinals Brian Harper got the first hit of the game with a runner in scoring position and gave the Cardinals a 1-0 lead. Worrell came in to protect that lead. Pinch-hitter Jorge Orta hit a ball toward the hole between first and second but Jack Clark was able to get to it and flipped the ball to Worrell, who tagged the bag.  But Denkinger called Orta safe.

Let’s look more closely at the dynamics of the play. Remember, all of this happened in about four seconds or less. :

Worrell throws his pitch to the left-handed swinging Orta who hits the ball to the right of the mound.  As Orta completes his swing and starts to run, Worrell stops his pitching motion, sees the ball is past him, and breaks toward first. It’s a foot race to the bag between the pitcher and the runner. The ball is a slow roller that Jack clark ranges to his right to pick up right at the line where infield turf changes to dirt.

Worrell is sprinting to firt and Ora is at full speed and closing. Denkinger is moving to the bag, too, to make the call.  Clark has to focus on the bag and not be distracted by the three other people running towards it.  In a play such as this, the order is to throw to the base and the pitcher should be there in time to catch it.

Worrell’s momentum carries him to the bag but Clark’s throw is slightly behind him, forcing Worrell to rech backward. Orta is in his final leaping strike to first base. It appears the throw beats him by a quarter or half a step. It is a bang-bang play.

Denkinger is in foul territory as Orta flashes past and as Worrell closes his glove around the throw. Orta hits the bag and falls forward. Worrell hangs onto the ball and turns around to see Denkinger calling Orta safe.

The argument with Cardinals manager Whitey Herzog, Clark, Worrell, and Denkinger is brief and the call stands.  Denkinger was in a good position for the call. But Worrell was six feet-five and the throw was high. “I couldn’t watch his glove and his feet at the same time. It was a soft toss, and there was so much crowd noise, I couldn’t hear the ball hit the glove,”

So the Royals have a base runner. Nobody is out. But Todd Worell, one of the best closers in baseball, can shut things down. Next up is power-hitter teve Balboni who lifts a foul ball toward the first-base dugout.  Clark, who was still transitioning from being an outfielder to being a first baseman, lost track of the ball as he tried to avoid falling into the dugout and the ball fell on the dugout’s first step.  Balboni then singled, advancing Orta to second.

Onix Concepcion pinch runs for Balboni and Royals catcher Jim Sundberg tries to lay down a sacrifice bunt to move the runners over.  But Worrell goes to third with the throw and forces Orta.  That brings up pinch-hitter Hal McRae, a .259 hitter in the regular season. Herzog orders an intentional walk to set up a potential double play.

Howser sends Dane Iorg up as a pinch-hitter. Iorg, who had won a Series with the Cardinals in 1982, bloops a single over the infield, driving in the only two runs the Royals score that night.

The Series was tied at three games apiece.

The Cardinals gave the ball to Tudor, already a two-time winner, to close out the Series.  Howser picked Saberhagen, who shut down the Cardinals on five hits.. The Royals pounded them 11-0 to win their first World Series championship.

None of the games lasted three hours.  Six of the seven were played between 2:44 and 2:59.  Game four, the Cardinals’ 3-0 shutout of the Royals, lasted only 2:19.  It ws the first series with all games at night.

The Cardinals were up two games to none, then three games to one. Denkinger’s call was in the sixth, not the seventh game so the Cardinals still had a big chance to win.  But they blew it—-although many of those who blame Denkinger for the Cardinal defeat don’t recall how badly the Cardinals played in game seven and don’t recall the bad call was in game six.

Don Denkinger spent three decades as a major league umpire. The World Series call did not seem to affect his career.  He umpired his fourth world series in 1991. He umpired three All-Star games, including calling balls and sgtrikes in 1987. He took part in a half=dozen American League Championships, two of them after the ’85 World Series. At his death he was one of seven umpires to have worked two perfect games (Len Barker, May 15, 1991 and Kenny Rogers, June 29, 1994). When Nolan Ryan threw his sixth no-hitter, Don Denkinger was behind the plate.

He had a distinguished career, a good life.  But he’s remembered for something that happened in a split second.

But in looking into that split second we learned about his other contributions to The Game.

There’s a lesson here for all of us, I suppose.  A decision we make in a split second can change our lives forever.   And the lives of others. We often don’t have time to worry about that when action is required.  And in most instances it’s not worth worrying about. And worrying about a mistake shouldn’t be part of what we become.

Blood Right

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Ten years ago, I threatened to break a new law within thirty seconds of when it went into effect.   I think of that circumstance from time to time and it has come to my mind more than once of late as the number of mass shootings piles up.  And as one shooting in particular has touched me.

I was still a reporter in the Senate in 2013 when Governor Nixon vetoed a bill that would have exempted Missouri from recognizing any federal gun laws  that “infringe on the people’s right to keep and bear arms.”  Any federal official who tried to enforce such a law could be arrested and charged with a misdemeanor.  AND if made it illegal to make public the names of gun owners.

That meant that I could not publish the names of the legislators who carried guns into the House and Senate Chambers and voted for the bill.  Yes, some did carry guns in the chambers. And to be truthful, there were times when debate got overheated that I did not feel entirely secure.

I don’t know if we have lawmakers packing today. I’m not down amongst them anymore. But a sign on the entrance door to the building indicates they’re allowed to have guns inside.

The Missouri legislature from time to time has tried to say it has the power to declare particular federal laws are not effective here, the United States Constitution notwithstanding. The legislature has at times protected the Second Amendment the way a Doberman would protect his raw steak.

That might be justifiable if all federal constitutional rights are absolute. The Second Amendment is to its most ardent defenders a Doberman Amendment. Touch it and I’ll bite off your arm.

As we’ve noted before, declared rights do not erase personal responsibility.  Free speech still allows lawsuits for libel and slander.  Freedom of Religion does not allow the state to insist that any of us must follow a particular faith to live and prosper.  The right to assemble does not grant a right to smash windows and doors at the United States Capitol and interfere with a mandated role of Congress.

So it is with the Second Amendment. It assumes those with guns will use them to protect the nation’s security (in some interpretations), and that those with guns will be responsible citizens.

As with any right, or any privilege, irresponsibility has its penalties.  The responsible citizen suffers because the irresponsible citizen is allowed free reign (as others might interpret the situation).  In today’s culture, the issue is whether responsible citizens are defending the irresponsible ones to the detriment of the citizenry as a whole.

The mass shooting last weekend in Allen, Texas again raises the question that passionate Second Amendment defenders brush off.  But once again we are told that the answer to mass shootings is the same solution Archie Bunker had in the days when airline hijackings were regular things—issue every passenger  a gun. So it is in these incidents that one answer is to have more people with guns.

Or—instead of limiting access to guns originally designed with one purpose—to kill an enemy on the battlefield using a large magazine of bullets—we are told the answer is better mental health treatment.

The problem seems to be that this corner of our political universe also is one that seems to vehemently oppose providing funding that will pay for those services—-or any of the services the “advocates” say need to be improved.

One of the cable networks covering the shooting in Allen took special note that the shooter might have worn body armor and asked program commentators if there should be limits placed on the sale of body armor, making it available only to law enforcement officers and other first responders.

As this is written, there has been no howl that such a proposal infringes on somebody’s right to shoot and not be shot back.  But it is a serious issue.  The idea that our children should go off to school every morning in their cleaned and pressed body armor, or that the dress code of teachers and administrator requires coat, tie, and bulletproof vest—and a Dirty Harry pistol in the holster that’s in plain view—is absurd.

It is said that money is the life-blood of politics. It has been said that a society is measured by how well it protects its most vulnerable.  One question asked during coverage of the Allen incident is, “Is there anyplace any more where we aren’t vulnerable?”

Political life-blood.  Innocents’ life-blood.  A decision about which is more valuable seems beyond expectation. Death awaits us all but in today’s America, we face uncertainty about whether we shall die in bed surrounded by our loved ones or die on the floor of a mall or a church or a school surrounded by a growing pool of blood.

Getting back to the veto override.   After Governor Nixon vetoed that particular Missouri Secession effort, the legislature had a chance to override it.   And the House did. 109-49, exactly the number needed. It was a stunning event to many, including the person sitting in my chair at the Senate press table.

The bill came over to the Senate and it was 22-10, needing one of the two remaining Senators to vote for the override for that bill to become law.  President Pro Tem Tom Dempsey and Majority Floor Leader Ron Richard had not voted. If one of them voted “yes,” the override would be complete.

I am not taking credit for what happened next. I don’t know if they were aware of what I had told some of my colleagues at the press table. I already had written a piece for the Missourinet blog about that bill.  I had three photographs I was going to use. One was of me, standing in front of an American Flag proudly holding my Daisy BB gun.  Another showed Governor Nixon with Wayne LaPierre, the President of the NRA, and the owner of the Midway Exchange west of Columbia. They were cutting the ribbon on a new gun shop at that complex.

The third picture showed the daughter of Missourinet reporter Jessica Machetta posing with her grandfather. They were with the deer that Macy had shot with her grandfather’s gun. It was her first deer.

Dempsey and Richard both voted “no.”  The override failed by one vote.  I never got to publish that entry on that blog. I really wanted to publish it.  And then tell the legislature, “Come and get me.”

Jessica lives in the Denver area now.  A few days ago, Macy was murdered by her boyfriend, who then shot himself to death.

One dead. Two dead.  Twenty dead.

Say what you want. Make sure you sound sincere.  But don’t do anything to really look for a solution to gun violence.  Don’t mess with the Doberman.

Bob and George, Part II 

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I’ve already admitted that I appear to be woke and unapologetically so.  Now I have revealed that I once was involved with George Soros.

I have some strongly conservative friends but so far none have made the sign of the cross and waved garlic branches to protect themselves as I have drawn near them.  I swear, however, based on some letters to the editor, that there are people who each night pull their Murphy Beds down from the storage space in their bedroom wall and then look under it to see that George isn’t there.

Here’s how George and I got together.

One of the hinge-points in world history occurred on November 9, 1989 when the gates of the Berlin Wall were opened and the destruction of the wall began.  The fall of the Berlin Wall was the symbolic end of the Cold War, confirmed at a summing meeting on December 2-3 ith George H.W. Bush and Mikhail Gorbachev during which both declared the Cole War was officially, in their opionons at least, finished. German reunification took place the next October.

The Union of Soviet Socialist Republicans quickly fell apart.  When Czechslovak President Gustav Husak resigned on December 10, the only hard line Communist government remaining from the Warsaw Pact was in Nicolai Ceaucesecu’s Romania and he was about done.

(He pronounced his last name Chow-CHESS-koo.)

About the time Berlin was celebrating the fall of the wall, the Romanian Communist Party’s Fifteenth Congress  was electing Ceausescu to another five-year term. His speech that day denounced the Peaceful Revolution, as it was called, that was underway throughout Eastern Europe. Violent demonstrations broke out in the Romanian Capital of Bucharest and in Timisoara, considered the cultural and social center of the western part of the country.

Ceausescu held a mass meeting on University Square in Bucharest four days before Christmas that year in which he blamed the riots in Timisoara on “fascist agitators who want to destroy socialism” but the crowd was having none of it. He was booed and heckled and took cover inside the building.  By the next day the revolution was nationwide and the military turned against him. He fled in a helicopter than had landed on the roof of the building, just ahead of demonstrators who had surged inside. The chopper was ordered to land by the army which soon took custody of the president and his wife.

They were tried on Christmas day by a court established by the provisional government, convicted and sentenced to death. It was reported that hundreds of soldiers volunteered to be their firing squad. A firing squad described as “a gathering of soldiers” began shooting as soon as the two were in front of a wall. Their execution was videotaped and shown on Romanian television.

In the months after those events, Marvin Stone, a former deputy director of the United States Information Agency, with support from Secretary of State James Baker, founded the International Media Fund to “help establish non-governmental media across the former Communist bloc.”

In August and September, 1991, I was one of three men sent to Romania and Poland to conduct seminars under the auspices of the International Media Fund and the National Association of Broadcasters. While there we worked with The Soros Foundation for an Open Society, which organized the seminars we conducted.  The foundation told us it was formed “to promote the values of freedom and democracy in Central and Eastern Europe.”

In order to build an open society, one needs education, free communications and the free flow of ideas, and the development of independent, critical thinking at all levels in society. An open society is characterized by a plurality of opinions. There is never only one truth, such dogmatic thinking is the characteristic of closed societies. In an open system ideas, ideals and opinions are constantly challenged, and they enter into competition with each other.  This free, unhindered competition of ideas yields a better system for all.

I was joined by two other men, Bayard “Bud” Walters of Nashville, the owner of several radio stations who would discuss sales—a novel concept in a country that had nothing approaching a capitalist society or a capitalist mindset—and Julian Breen, a former programmer from WABC in New York who had built WABC to having the largest listening audience in America.

Julian died at the age of 63 in 2005. Bud, who is my age, still runs his Cromwell Media expire from Nashville.  When he was asked a couple of years ago about his career highlights, the first one he cited was being “part of a three-person media team that taught how to have a Free Press in Romania and Poland.”  It was eye-opening and rewarding.”

We spent a week in each country and all three of us were impressed by the enthusiasm the young people of Romania and Poland had for free expression.  I talked about the mechanics of covering the news, of who news sources would be—or should be, of the things people needed to know about in a free society (heavy emphasis on telling people what their government was doing for, to, and with them, a unique thing to those folks).  I talked of ethics, a particular interest of our audience.  I talked about the courage it takes to be a reporter, a quality necessary in building free media in a society still mentally adjusted to totalitarianism.

When we came home, we hoped we had planted some seeds of freedom in countries that still had few free radio stations, countries where many people—especially older ones who were accustomed to cradle-to-grave government regulation of their lives—were not sure what this freedom thing was all about and whether it was a good thing.

But the young people knew it was.  One of them told me there was a great irony in the advent of freedom in Romania.  In 1966, Ceausescu made abortion illegal. It was an effort to increase the country’s population. Decree 770 provided benefits to mothers of five or more children and those with ten or more children were declared “heroine mothers” by the state. The government all but prohibited divorces.

The ”decree-ites,” our friend told me, the children born because of the ban on abortions, constituted the generation of Romanians that revolted and killed Ceaucescu.  And were learning lessons about a free society from us.

A decade later, I was judging an annual contest for excellence in news reporting for the Radio-Television News Directors Association—an international organizationthat made me the first person to lead it twice—when one of my board members announced that we had our first truly international winner.

A young woman from Romania.

I think she was too young to have been in those seminars in ’91.  But knowing that a seed we had sown in Romania had, indeed, flowered, was a strongly emotional moment.

We were sent there by the IMF and the Media Fund.  The seminars at which we spoke were financed by George Soros.

For those who speak his name because of their ignorance of his belief in an open society, I want you to know that I am proud of my association with him even though it was decades ago.  To those who think we as a nation should be ignorant of our history of prejudice, discrimination, and coercion,  and blindly follow those who demean and insult our intelligence in their efforts to get and maintain self-serving power over us, I want to remind you of the goal of George Soros’ Open Society foundation:

In order to build an open society, one needs education, free communications and the free flow of ideas, and the development of independent, critical thinking at all levels in society. An open society is characterized by a plurality of opinions. There is never only one truth, such dogmatic thinking is the characteristic of closed societies. In an open system ideas, ideals and opinions are constantly challenged, and they enter into competition with each other.  This free, unhindered competition of ideas yields a better system for all.

When it comes to freedom, I’d rather have George Soros on my side.  Because I have seen the other side. Unlike so many of those who have turned his name into an empty-headed epithet, I have been within his circle. And I do not fear him.

Despots should.  And I know why.

George and Bob, Part I

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The far right’s obsession with George Soros as some kind of leftist boogeyman funding every supposedly un-American conspiracy it can think of shows a lack of creativity, reality, and intellect we should expect in discussions of our political system.

To some of these folks, the mention of the words “George” and “Soros” provokes the same reaction that Pavlov got from a dog when he rang a bell.

Soros bashing emerged again last week with the indictment of Donald Trump.  Trump’s former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, attacking Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg as “a Soros-funded prosecutor who refuses to prosecute violent crimes…” A New York Times fact-checker has found no direct Soros funding link to Bragg’s campaign although he did give a million dollars to a political action committee that put a half-million dollars into the Bragg campaign.

Our former Attorney General and Trump acolyte, Eric Schmitt, accuses Bragg of ignoring “violent crime (that) rages on & violent criminals walk free.”  Too bad he never criticized prosecutors here at home where our two biggest cities have had high murder rates for years, including time when Schmitt was AG or was in the legislature making state policy.

Current AG Andrew Bailey accused Bragg of being “another Soros-funded prosecutor with misplaced priorities.

Governor Parson says it’s a matter of “another Soros-backed prosecutor [who] uses the rule of law to serve his own political agenda, not justice.

My defense of Soros should not be unexpected because I have been a beneficiary of Mr. Soros.

Or maybe I was a Soros enabler and others benefitted—-although his critics will say nobody has benefitted from the distribution of his wealth as he sees fit to distribute it—-a reverse reflection of how the people on the Left feel about the Koch brothers and their support of right-wing activities.

In such discussions we should acknowledge some things:

The Golden Rule in politics has been expressed as, “He who has the gold, rules.”

That’s not exactly correct. There are a lot of instances in which wealthy patrons have invested in this or that candidate only to see that candidate lose.  But the super-wealthy can afford to just shrug and see who else or what else they can buy, confident they will prevail eventually—although most of us wonder why the super-rich feel a need to keep prevailing.

Why can’t they just be like Scrooge McDuck and go down in their basement and take a bath in their money?

Why should they?

Soros faced his wealth and the freedom it gives him to be involved not only in politics but in other causes this way in a 2016 essay in The New York Review of Books: “My success in the financial markets has given me a greater degree of independence than most other people. This obliges me to take stands on controversial issues when others cannot, and taking such positions has itself been a source of satisfaction. In short, my philanthropy has made me happy.”

One of the things that makes him happy is the project that involved me.

Before I tell the story, let me tell you some things about George Soros that his critics never talk about but they’re things that help understand some of the man.

George, if I may speak of him with a familiarity I have not earned, is about 92, the son of a man who escaped from a Soviet prison camp and made his way back to Nazi-occupied Budapest where his family—Jewish family—was living. He says his father printed fake identity documents for other Jewish families.  Those years living as a Jew in Nazi Hungary shaped his life.

He went to England after escaping from Hungary, studied economics and developed his philosophy of investing. He came to America, became a naturalized citizen in 1961and began a career as a financial analyst before he later moved into hedge fund management and a career that led him to be what he calls a “political philanthropist.”

This article from The Street  includes Soros’s Wall Street Journal article in 2016 explaining, “Why I Support Reform Prosecutors.”

Billionaire George Soros Hits Back at Donald Trump – TheStreet

It might be educational for some of his critics whose knees jerk and whose saliva glands gush at the mere mention of his name to read—-although I doubt that few will.  He seems to be right on the money, however, when he wrote, “Many of the same people who call for more punitive civil justice policies also support looser gun laws.”

As for supporting Bragg, Soros says he has never met him and has never directly contributed to his campaign although his political action committee has constributed money to a group that has given some funds to Bragg’s campaigns.  To assert that Soros owns Bragg is a big leap.

In the early 80s, Soros created the Open Society Foundations to promote democracy and financial prosperity in nations that were falling away from the Soviet Union as the USSR crumbled.

And that is when George Soros and Bob Priddy came together.

Now, to be clear—I have never met George.  But the opportunity he gave me to be part of his program to bring freedom to the newly-independent countries that had been Soviet territories for decades turned out to be one of the most rewarding experiences of my career as a journalist.

George Soros is not always correct in backing the causes he backs. The history of his involvements makes that clear. Some of his assessments of this country’s present and this country’s future anger those on the right who see this country as the world’s dominant nation during a time when there are challenges to that idea and that reality every day.

His wealth and his world life-experience allow him the freedom to challenge those who have trouble thinking outside the box that constitutes the boundaries of the United States. But he does not have a corner on international geopolitical wisdom.  His ideas are open to challenge.  But such challenges are not beneficial if all they do is call him a name or vaguely blame him for everything that is wrong for this country and this world by merely beeathing the word “Soros.”

It is his right, as it is the right of wealthy others on the other side, to use his wealth to disseminate his opinions and to shape societies as he thinks they should be shaped.

The great broadcast journalist Edward R. Murrow once said something that brings up a problem with the ability of the super-rich to influence our political system. Murrow told fellow broadcasters, “Just because the microphone in front of you amplifies  your voice around the world is no reason to think we have any more wisdom than we had when our voices could reach only from one of the bar to the other.”

So the super-rich on both sides of the aisle can afford a much bigger microphone than you or I can afford.  Finding a way to equalize the voices of the average American and the billionaire American is an important quest, but one unlikely to succeed in the foreseeable future.

My experience with George Soros leads me to defend him as something other than a leftist boogeyman. And I am naturally inclined against finding validity in those who only parrot cheap-shot party line character assassinations in place of intelligent discussion.

I’ll tell you about George and me in the next entry.