The Folks Going Over There
October 23, 2001
7:26 a.m.
A friend of mine recently suggested that I ought to write something here about reservist who get called up to duty, and I said that I probably would. I never really found the time to do it, though, and to be honest, I wasn't really sure what my thoughts were about them--I mean, beyond the standard "Go get'em, guys! Behind you all the way," stuff. But now there are guys on the ground, and I keep seeing reports of new collections of people being called up. It makes me think of some of the people I used to work with when I was employed as a civil service engineer with the Federal government. Where are they? What are they doing right now? It makes me wonder about the kids that I've seen growing up around here in Columbus, Indiana--kids like Nick Edds, a fine young man who grew up to be a football and track star at a local high school and who left for the Air Force Academy just a few months ago. Nick grew up next door to us. His brother is a grade older than Brigid. He's a footballer and a track star, too. I don't know what's going to happen you know? And I still don't know what to think about the guys that are getting called up, or about their families--except to say that I think they are very brave. They are doing something they believe in, and something I believe in. I know they are doing it for me, and I thank them. It makes me wonder why I am not doing it, actually ... which, let me tell you, is a very strange feeling even though I'm a bit too old for that kind of thing anymore. It makes me ask myself the question "Would I go?" And the answer is, yes, I would go. For this, I would go. At least, I think I would. You can never really tell what you would do in these kinds of situations unless you actually find yourself in them, right? I've been thinking about this kind of thing for the past few weeks, I think I've finally realized something. The fact is that I really don't have to make up my mind whether I would go, or not go. The fact is that I'm already there. People have been saying that this is a different war than the US is used to, and I think they are right. It's different because it started with the declaration that we are all targets, and so in a very real way we are all soldiers. If you don't believe me, tell that to the guys working in the post offices these days. Will you go to work when the office is included in the battlefield? There is truth to the commentary going on around the idea of the common people needing to get back to "normal." There is truth to the commentary that says if we don't get back to normal the other side has won. Without trying to go too far overboard, there is victory every time a large group of Americans gathers someplace--be it on an airplane or in a sports stadium, or anywhere else. And the reason for that is that the other guys, the opponents, have basically declared that these areas are fair bounds for a battlefield. I was thinking about that this weekend as I tried to assess the Capitol Hill fiasco. You know, the anthrax scare shutting down the government for what appears will be several days, and all that. A congresswoman was on one of the weekend shows, and she said something like "We would have been stupid to walk into the building with what we knew." And I agree with that. At least I can't disagree with it. But on the other hand, the new battlefield includes the Capitol building, and we are all soldiers. I thought about this while I cut the grass Sunday morning. After awhile, it actually made me mad. You know it would be really stupid to go to Afghanistan right now, knowing what we know. I mean, geeze, everyone's shooting at us when we show up there, and we're shooting at them. Using this congresswoman's explanation, in this context, you've just got to say "How stupid are our soldiers to step into that?" But of course, they aren't stupid. They are brave beyond all ability to comprehend. You might say "But, Ron, those soldiers knew what they were getting into when they signed up!" And I would say, of course they did. Just like politicians know what they symbolize when they sign up. Seriously. Congressfolk must know the are targets as soon as they begin to campaign, and they must know that their actions will speak louder than their words. If you work as a post office sorter in any city these days, what would you think about hearing a congressperson tell you to go back to work, now? What, you ask? Am I saying that the congress were cowards? Well. No. Yes. Maybe. Just as we want our soldiers to avoid stepping into a field we think is littered with landmines, we want our congress to refrain from stepping into a building teeming with anthrax. No complaint there. But we also want the soldiers to keep doing their jobs--and, praise be, they tend to do just that. The problem I have with the congress is with how the whole thing went down. I used to think congress was about leadership, you see. And leadership is not about words. Yes, words are a part of it all, but the truest essence of leadership resides in action. Leadership is about symbolism and all that stuff that you can't define but that you know when you see it. And in this case, the closing down of government was affected by a group of people that acted like rabbits scampering from a fox. Everyone just kind of scattered, leaving whatever they were doing in the wake. This is a bit of a problem for me. A leader in that moment would have gathered up his or her congressional compatriots and marched them over to the Library of Congress or the Smithsonian, or just out onto the mall between the Lincoln Memorial and the tall Black Wall with the 50,000 names on it, and held their session. A leader in congress would have said "You can take away our building, but you can't take away our resolve, and you can't stop us from running the country." Just think what it would have said to the country to see the House or Senate meeting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial? More important, just think what it would have said to the guy the congress has just asked to cross the Afghanistan border? Just think what it would have said to their families? So this is the problem I have. A leader doesn't ask someone to do something they wouldn't do themselves if the positions were reversed. And so, what I've learned for certain is that we really have no leadership in congress. This shouldn't really be surprising, I suppose. What we have in congress are a bunch of bureaucrats--which I guess is just fine, because that's kinda what they really do in life. They're good at being bureaucrats, and if you've heard me talk about the subject of politics vs. bureaucrats in getting things done, you know that I actually hold bureaucrats in fairly high esteem in certain ways. It's just that they talk such a good leadership game, that for awhile there I actually kind of expected leadership from them. This is my fault. I just forgot there for a few years. But leadership in the form of direction and conviction comes from the president. Laws and constraints come from the congress. Action comes from regular people. This is the American way. In the end, the actions of the congress (you'll notice specifically, please that I'm not picking on either party here) are only a problem if we laud these people as being heroic or courageous. As we're learning (or should I say, relearning) these days, being courageous means being afraid to act but doing something anyway. I cannot really say the congress's actions were cowardly, because they weren't. The congress was prudent. But I can definitely say that this congressional action was not courageous. Which leads me back to this weekend and to the people being called up. Did anyone but Lisa, Brigid, and me, actually watch the way-to-long Paul McCartney extraveganza this weekend? I thought it was an incredible show. No, not the music--which by and large was lame--but the people. I thought seeing cops dancing, or crying while music played, holding pictures of their lost friends, and whatnot was a powerful thing. It must have been incredibly hard for some of them. The family who lost their dad, standing up to take his standing ovation, then having the daughter introduce the Backstreet Boys. The man standing up to take the cheers for his lost brother, and hearing the USA, USA, USA chant. The man who told Osama to kiss his royal Irish ass, and then proceeded to say where he was from and who he was in such a direct, and personal statement to the terrorists as I've ever seen. These people, and the people they represented, are heroes in the very essence of the word. And they are leaders in the truest of ways. As are the men and women in Afghanistan and who are being called up right now. These people are setting aside their lives for this. They are afraid, I'm sure. But they are doing this because this is what has been asked of them. I'm proud of them. I think they are doing what is right. And the families that are sending them away are heroes, too. They are silent heroes, though, suffering the vampiric drain of concern and fear and an utter lack of control that has to wear on them every day their loved ones are gone. In so many ways these people at home are giving everything they have, and I am proud of them. I wish they didn't have to be heroes, but they are, and I'm glad we have them. That's what I think. So as I finish this morning, I'm seeing Nick Edds in my mind again. And I'm thinking about David and Ann Edds, who are his father and mother, and who are living their lives out day-by-day in the house next door to mine, certainly wondering and as worried about what's going to happen in the future. Their son is learning how to fly F-16s. How can they not be worried? And I'm thinking about A.J., Nick's brother, who I still see every weekend cutting the grass like Nick did until a year ago. They're good neighbors. We chat in the yard occasionally. When we go on vacation, they get our mail. When they go out, we get theirs. Here's my challenge to you. Today when you get home, look down the street or down the apartment hall. Think about where these people might be in a few years. Next time you see them, smile, and wave, or talk to them. Maybe just wish them a good day or whatever. Who knows, maybe it will start a better friendship. I think this is important, because I know you know people who either are or will soon be putting their lives on the line for you in some way or another. And it's quite a privilege to live next door to a family of heroes.  Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
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