Remember Fitz

LETTER FROM FITZ - 2008

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"The best exercise for the human heart is bending down to help someone else up."

Tim Russert (1950-2008)

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December 2008

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Dear Friends & Fellow Seekers:

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Tmi Russert died on June 13th. That night his friend Bruce Springsteen was doing a concert in London. Before playing "Thunder Road" as a tribute to the NBC newsman, "the boss" remembered the words above, which Russert had shared with him years before. (When TR was a student at John Carroll U. in Cleveland, he had the Student Union job of hiring bands for campus concerts and took a chance on a then-unknown group called The E Street Band.) Like me, I know that your life experiences have taught you the wisdom of those words. They have been etched on my heart since June and are surely the wisest ones I've heard all year. (What? You thought it would be a quote from Joe the Plumber?)  

 

Forty years ago, when George McGovern came to Chicago for the Democratic Convention, my sister and I were holding the door for him as he arrived at The Blackstone Hotel. (The South Dakota Senator was trying ot hold together Bobby Kennedy's delegates as a voting bloc following the assassination. One of the campaign people, moments before, had noticed my Bobby button, with the black ribbon

attached, grabbed me and said, "You're big. You hold the door for the Senator.") A few days later the horrible events of that year continued, and, for all practical purposes, the 60's ended in the bloodshed on Michigan Avenue and in Grant Park.

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Partly for that reason, but for many, many others as well, my heart was on fire - like it hadn't been for four decades - on election night, watching that incredible throng of people gathered in Grant Park to celebrate the dawning of a new era of hope and promise in our land. Knowing the turbulent history of racial and ethnic "coexistence" in my hometown, it was all the more wondrous and heartening to see that marvelously diverse crowd united as one in their enthusiasm and joy. 

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Of all the election-related stories I've heard, the one that most grabbed my heart and squeezed was the one Bill Cosby told on David Letterman's show. He said that on voting day he'd taken the photos of his deceased parents, brother and son out of their frames, put them in his coat and headed for the polls. Once inside the voting booth he removed them and spread them out so that they could share that historic moment with him.

 

(Okay, I know. Barack Obama is not the messiah. But I also know that I've never been as proud and excited to be an American as I was on the 4th of November.)

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If I had one regret about the election, it was that Studs Terkel died five days earlier and didn't live to see it. That dear man was one of the best teachers in my life. I learned at least as much about social justice and the quest for peace from his WFMT radio show as I did at school or in church.

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Along with the election, the other big cause for celebration in my family has been my younger brother Dan's almost miraculous recovery from death-bound illness. His new lungs have not only given him a new lease on life, but profoundly enhanced his love of life and the joy of living. (Thank you for all your prayers!)

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My longtime friend, Marcy Anthony Barr, was in town last week. She came to share her glorious voice, singing for our guests at Loaves & Fishes in Berkeley, and for a neighborhood party in The Tenderloin. Over dinner the night before we'd talked about people's hunger for beauty and loveliness in their lives, whether rich or poor, privileged or "un". At the party on Golden Gate Avenue, when Marcy let go of the last note of "O Holy Night", dozens of poor and homeless folks jumped to their feet to applaud. And, for the umpteenth time, I thanked God for the extraordinary sacrament which music has been in my life. Whether it's angels in the sky over Bethlehem, a stage full of high school kids belting out a show tune, a gathering of citizens singing "We Shall Overcome", or a band from New Jersey celebrating being "Born In The USA", it has all been, and continues to be, such a gift!

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In this holy season, when we celebrate lights that refuse to die, a baby born homeless who became the light of the world, and the hope that is reborn with a new year and new leadership, I wish you every blessing and joy, and lots of that great Tim Russert heart exercise.

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-Fitz