Author Archive: Bill Black

Swine Flu, Has It Come to This?

My Daughter Bridget at the Book Festival on the Mall

This is a collage of pictures of authors that my daughter Bridget and I met on the Mall today. Clockwise from around the top they are: Ricky Minor, Music Director for American Idol, Food Network star, Paula Deen, Nicholas Spark, author of The Notebook and Tim O’Brien, who wrote The Things They Carried. Each of them was delightful, friendly and seemingly thrilled to meet Bridget. A great day!

Ted Kennedy and Airplanes

I’ve been reading Ted Kennedy’s memoir and enjoying it immensely. One thing recently struck me, though. If I was Ted Kennedy, or any Kennedy, I wouldn’t set foot in an airplane.

I’m a nervous flyer to begin with. But, think of what Ted Kennedy has experienced. First, his brother Joe dies in an airplane accident. Granted, flying a plane loaded with explosives does tempt fate, but it’s still a tragedy. Then, Ted’s sister Kathleen dies in a crash with her fiance’. The one I didn’t know about was his roommate a Harvard, a budding Olympic skater, who died in a plane crash going to a Olympic preliminary trial. Then, of course, Ted himself almost died in a crash in western Massachusetts with Senator Birch Bayh. Finally, John, Jr.

Yes, if I was a Kennedy, I’d stay away from planes.

My 25th Wedding Anniversary

Today is my 25th wedding anniversary. Wow. I could never have imagined – dreamed – hoped – that the adventure on which I embarked 25 years ago today would turn out so well. That day remains a blur to me. Starting with my first – and only – barbershop shave at Lords and Lady’s Hair Salon in West Roxbury, MA to the end of the night with my sister confronting a bully towering over her in the Hammond Bar in Brookline at 1 am, I only remember moments, but not the day as a whole. In between those two “moments,” I committed myself eternally to my wife, Rita, and she to me. Twenty-five years later that commitment is strong and, in fact, growing. The love endures, the cause lives on and the dream will never die…..(sorry, I think I just channeled Ted Kennedy).

In the past twenty five years, we built a family. Danny (19) and Bridget (15) make us proud every day. They are both smart and reasonably well-behaved kids. But what makes us most proud is their hearts. They both have caring and compassionate hearts. I’d like to think we had something to do with that, but we’ve all seen excellent parents produce troublesome kids, so there must a bit of good fortune or God’s will in it, as well. Suffice it to say, it’s a blessing we both treasure.

In my observation, there are two kinds of successful marriages. One is when two people, who are similar, bond in their similarities. They have a joint mission and they accomplish it together. Because they see themselves in each other, they form a mutual admiration society. It’s sickening.

Then there are the marriages where couples are different, but complement each other, which produces a somewhat more tumultuous relationship. But, probably a more honest one. That’s Rita and me. We are different. I am lazy. Rita works very hard. I am undisciplined and disorderly. Rita is neat and organized. I am self absorbed. Rita is utterly unselfish. I think we’ve changed a bit over the years. I’ve tried to make Rita more lazy, without much success. I have made inroads in terms of disorderliness. She has come to tolerate the smallest bit of clutter in the house.

My one regret is that I have not adopted Rita’s thoughtfulness and unselfishness. I remain pretty self absorbed. This blog is evidence of that. But Rita is the most “other” directed person I’ve ever known. She is constantly thinking of others and trying to help in whatever problems, large or small, that they confront.

Of course, I am the beneficiary of this quality of hers in two ways. She’s very thoughtful toward me, which is only occasionally reciprocated. But more importantly, her nurturing approach to friends and family has built a community around our family that would simply not exist without her. The older I get, the more I appreciate the relationships I have with other people. And thanks to Rita, we are blessed with a wide circle.

So, happy anniversary, Rita. I love you. And see how thoughtful I am? When somebody asks you what I gave you for our anniversary, you can say…

“A blog post.”

How many wives of 25 years can say that?

Ted Kennedy’s Grave Site

I visited Ted Kennedy’s grave this morning. It was very moving. While there were a few people milling around JFK’s memorial, when I first arrived at Ted’s, I was alone. It is a simple memorial, just like brother Robert’s, a small flat gravestone and a white cross. As you can see from the picture, the outlines of the dug grave are still visible. All three brothers are directly beneath Robert E. Lee’s home. It is said that Arlington Cemetery is where it is so that Robert E. Lee could observe the full consequences of his treasonous rebellion against the U.S. Government.

On a more peaceful note, I overheard a tour guide talking about the location of the Kennedy gravesite. Apparently, Kennedy visited the Lee mansion, which has a spectacular view (passed the thousands of graves) of Washington monuments, the Lincoln, Washington and the Capitol. Kennedy observed that it was so impressive that one could spend eternity there.

So, he will, with his brothers.

The Public Option

Josh Marshall has a great post setting out where we are on the public option in healthcare.

For me, the situation is bizarre.  It reminds me of the old Yogi Berra quote in talking about a popular nightspot, “Nobody goes there anymore.  It’s too crowded.”

The Republican position is that “Nobody wants the public option, because everyone will buy it if it’s offered.”  Then, of course, we’d be at single-payer, God forbid.

Makes sense, right?

Ted Kennedy’s Memorial Service at the Capitol

I had the honor of standing on the Capitol steps for the short memorial for Ted Kennedy on his way to his final resting place at Arlington National Cemetery. Here’s the video:

Ted’s Funeral – Post Mortem

I watched every minute of Ted Kennedy’s funeral. For me, it was a validation of everything I hold dear. As I’ve explained below, I was personally gratified that he chose Mission Church for the ceremony, given that it was my mother’s childhood church and the place I prayed for her when she was sick.

But what struck me most was the humility of the memorial. To the untrained eye, it might sound odd to call a memorial, held in a “Basilica,” and attended by four presidents, vast numbers of luminaries and Boston’s Cardinal humble. Not to mention having Yo Yo Ma and Placido Domingo provide the music.

But on those elements of the service which contained the most meaning, Ted chose the humble option in almost every case. First, consider the church. Setting aside my personal connection, it is important to understand where Mission Church sits. It is in Roxbury, the poorest section of Boston. And while Mission Hill is coming back economically, it remains, at best, a working class neighborhood, which it was when my mother, the daughter of Irish immigrants, grew up there.

Then there was the Mass. Again, it may have looked majestic, but it was not a “High Mass.” The music was awe-inspiring, but, significantly, none of the prayers during the ceremony were sung. That makes it a low Mass. And, while the Cardinal was in attendance, he did not say the Mass. In fact, Kennedy’s local parish priest in Hyannis was the celebrant, with a number of concelebrants, none of whom were high in the Church hierarchy. One of them, Fr. Percy DaSilva, is a former priest in my church of Blessed Sacrament. Sen. Kennedy was a parishioner at Blessed Sacrament some years ago and I would see him occasionally at Mass, usually at the children’s Mass. Fr. DaSilva is a diminutive priest from India with the heart of a lion who was beloved by all in the parish, particularly the children. He loved my daughter Bridget and she him. He made national news when he indignantly called from the pulpit for Cardinal Law’s resignation during the abuse scandal at a time when the Church hierarchy was still standing behind the Cardinal. In addition to his love for my daughter, the other thing I most appreciated about him is that while he preached the Church’s doctrine condemning abortion with conviction, he never, ever mentioned abortion in a sermon without also denouncing the death penalty. His presence on the altar spoke volumes about Ted’s priorities.

Of course, within the constraints of a low Mass, you can still reach the heights. Most people would love to have the President of the United States do the eulogy at their funeral. But it was the music that made the ceremony transcendent. I have never heard Ave Maria sung so beautifully as by Susan Graham. It literally took my breath away. And Placido Domingo singing during the Communion, well, what can you say? At the Capitol memorial later in the day, I spoke about the service to Congressman Jim McGovern from Worcester who said, “Receiving Communion with Placido Domingo singing, I felt like this must be what heaven is like.”

Fundamentally, as I’ve noted below, it was the Irishness of it all that so moved me. Forgive my paean to Irish culture, but I do believe that the Irish have a special awareness of human frailty. It brings out both the best and worst in us. On the downside, it makes us somewhat mordant, fatalistic and even reckless. I’ll never forget hearing one of my uncles say at a family gathering, “I believe that life is a vale of tears, with a few bright spots thrown in.” I was about eight years old and that comment has stuck with me all my life. That view, I believe, contributes to the kind of behavior that Ted exhibited in his younger days, the drinking and womanizing. You figure you don’t have much time, so make the most of it while you can. For those that survive long enough to gain some wisdom, the Irish mystical traditions kick in. These have been with the Irish from pagan times. Since St. Patrick, it inspires a deep devotion to the Catholic Church, which provides hope in this “vale of tears.”

Of course, it’s more than physical frailty, though, God knows, Ted saw the consequences of that with all the tragedy in his family. We all knew about the tragedies of his own generation. But I never fully knew about those in his immediate family. Three of his kids faced life-threatening disease at some point in their lives. There is no greater emotional trauma one can face than the risk of losing a child and he faced it three times.

But human frailty involves moral frailty, as well. And that’s where the humility comes in. It makes you less judgmental of the failings of others when you see the moral frailty that is within yourself. I have no doubt that Mary Jo Kopechne’s memory haunted Ted to his dying day. Recognizing that – and others of his moral failings, made him, I believe, a more humble man, which is hard to be when you are a U.S. Senator, particularly a Kennedy. This moral humility was reflected in his letter to the Pope where he writes, “I know that I have been an imperfect human being, but with the help of my faith, I have tried to right my path.”

Clearly, we should take the advice he offered in his eulogy of his brother, Bobby, and “not enlarge him in death beyond what he was in life.” But I have to say, more than any other other event of its kind, I do feel changed a bit by these memorials to Teddy. He does provide a model for living a good life and the hope that it’s never too late. When he was my age, he was still “Wild Teddy,” drinking and carousing with Chris Dodd. And yet he changed in a very deep way and died at some peace. It’s a story of redemption that offers hope for us all.

And, finally, he vindicated another quality of being Irish in which I believe strongly. No culture puts on a better funeral than the Irish. I think it comes with that fatalism mentioned above. I recently bade farewell to my mother and I have to say that we touched, in her memorial, many of the same themes that were explored in Ted’s memorial, the music, the laughter, the melancholy. We didn’t have Placido Domingo, but we did have the singer from a local parish church sing Our Lady of Knock at the same place during the Mass, which generated a lot of tears. And there was singing and laughter at the post-funeral celebration.

So, goodbye Ted. You didn’t know me. But you made me proud to be a Boston Irish Catholic Liberal Democrat. And, excuse me while I check on my kids.

Rest in Peace.