The Tucson Memorial: We Had Forgotten

"No one laughs at God in a hospital."--Regina Spektor

As President Obama made his way tonight to the lectern at the University of Arizona's memorial service for those that we lost on Saturday due to a deeply troubled and deranged young man's violent outburst, it struck me that the President we needed was the one we first got to know on the campaign trail.

The gifted orator who transfixed and inspired so many of us while crisscrossing our nation had perhaps to some degree been missing in action. Not that he wasn't the same person. Or even a disappointment. Hardly. The extraordinary legislative achievements of the past two years were largely in keeping with the promises he made to us as a Senator running for the highest office in the land.

It's often said that you campaign in poetry and govern in prose. Perhaps we had so much hearty prose that we didn't realize how much we missed the poetry.

Until now.

The last two years have been as divisive and disturbing as any I can remember in my 40 years. Sometimes it's like watching that scene in Rebel Without A Cause when after being apprehended, James Dean bellows at his bickering parents in front of a police officer "You say one thing, she says another thing, then everybody switches back again!"

We have seen little but anger, rancor, and a nastiness that questions the faith, patriotism, and even the birthright of those who we disagree with. Too often this example set by our elected leaders have been followed by us in the electorate. We have been like children of alcoholics. The kind that do not learn from the mistakes of our elders, but repeat them. I consider myself among the number who has all too often followed suit.

Tonight, our President reminded us of the best of America. He shared the stories of these seemingly ordinary Americans who lived lives of dignity and grace. Lives that were threatened, wounded--and in the case of six--prematurely ended. He challenged us to live up to their memory.

The memory of an honorable judge.

The memory of a devoted couple.

The memory of a dedicated husband who used his body as a human shield.

The memory of a quilter who just wanted to say hello to a congresswoman she was fond of.

The memory of a young public servant on the cusp of his first marriage.

The memory of a sweet nine year old little girl with an unusual curiosity about public service.

He reminded us to "jump in rain puddles."

He also reminded us of the living.

He reminded us of a young man who ran toward the sound of gunfire to save the life of a boss he had only been employed by for a week.

He reminded us of three citizens who tackled the shooter and stemmed his madness before further terror could be inflicted.

He reminded us of the first responders and the vigilant doctors who worked so quickly to reduce the mortality level of those simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He reminded us of a congresswoman who would regularly spend her weekends among her constituents by scheduling events she would call "congress on a corner."

And for many of us, he reminded us of why we liked him in the first place.

He reminded me that there was a reason why I walked those streets and knocked on those doors.

There was a reason I lent my full throat to those rallies.

There was a reason I badgered and cajoled those that were on the fence or apathetic.

There was a reason I walked into that ballot box and darkened that circle next to his name.

And that reason was in full bloom tonight.

And though the ice and snow has covered my state in such a way that it may be a long time before I get to see my next rain puddle, I do know what I'm going to do when I next make its acquaintance.

Sumo-Pop
January 12, 2010