Another Tree Falls in the Forest

I see Jesse Jackson has died at age 84.  He had a long career in civil rights, and was a fiery defender of justice, though towards the end his speaking style seemed almost a parody of what, 20 years earlier, had seemed new and fresh.

I ran a few events in which Jesse Jackson spoke, but only one of which is memorable.  That one was a 10,000-person rally in City Hall Park in New York City.  I was on stage, fiddling with a prop I had brought from Washington, when some fool pushed over its top, which came down on my finger, all but severing it.  Blood was everywhere, and the finger was quite smashed. Before I could figure out what to do, an ambulance rolled up, and a fellow so short he could stand up in the vehicle got out. He was lightly bearded, very serious, and wearing a yarmulke. 

“What happened,” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.  “The mohel said this is how you do it, but it seems off.”  

Oh, he LOVED that answer!  

As we pulled up at Bellvue, a few blocks away, he looked at me sternly and said in a commanding tone. “Don’t say nothing.  Imma get you in.”  

I nodded, and it was really quite miraculous — I breezed past everyone, and was put in a bay next to a construction worker with a piece of rebar stuck through his side. I did not think we needed equal attention, but I was also not in charge.

My finger was x-rayed, and I was told the bone was smashed, but would heal. The wound was sutured, and a tall, quite beautiful Jamaican nurse hung an IV bag loaded with antibiotics. 

When she came back to unplug me and let me get back to the rally, she asked me how long I’d worked for Mayor Giuliani. 

There was a two click pause while I figured out how my Jewish friend had gotten me seen so fast.  “A while,” I said. “But hey, if you’d like to meet Jesse Jackson, he’s just a few blocks away, and I can guarantee you get a picture.”  

Sadly, I never saw her again.

Not really a Jesse Jackson story — more a joke about mohels, but it’s what I thought of this morning, and trust me when I say Jesse Jackson would have *loved* that story.

Another tree falls in the forest. It was an old tree, and probably its time.  But like Noah I wonder if we have enough big wood to build the next boat we will need to survive the next flood. Where are our civil rights leaders? Who speaks for those whose lives are just a few paychecks away from eviction? Where are our leaders of any kind?  Chuck Schumer? Hakeem Jeffries?  Give me a break. The American opposition to fascism is rudderless.

And yet…..

And yet, there is Minnesota.  The fierce light of Minnesota is catching fire in San Francisco, New York City, Chicago, Philadelphia.

Perhaps America will lead itself out of the darkness, holding each other’s hands, neighbor to neighbor, one at a time.

Jesse would have liked that.