January 2007 - When We Stumble

Many of the most important choices of our lives, the ones that define us, are not choices we seek. We find that our past choices, our gifts, and fate have conspired to place before us a responsibility. We can walk away or step up to the challenge. At that moment we are exactly where we are supposed to be, even if it's the last place on earth we would have sought.

My eldest son is a native Michigander, and for that reason and many others, I will be forever fond of Michigan. Yesterday I watched the casket of another Michigan native, Gerald Ford, gently set upon a small platform in the US Capitol. Draped in fresh black cloth, the simple structure was built for an Illinois native, Abraham Lincoln. My youngest son is an Illinois native, and I have a fondness for this place as well.

When Ford became President, I didn't like him. He was chosen by Richard Nixon, whose judgment was suspect. I was hopping mad when he pardoned Nixon, and joined the chorus that believed his power was granted as part of a deal to let Nixon off the hook. Nixon was a California native, as am I.

I don't know how ashamed Nixon was of his choices, but I do believe Ford was not. I have always suspected that one would need a heart of iron, boundless energy, and questionable judgment to want to be US President. Cynically put, the process of campaigning requires endless fundraising, painful and uncharitable scrutiny of every word and gesture, and submitting to a kind of Hollywood packaging of self that both tempts fate and possibly robs voters of honest choices. Ford didn't run before he became President. He was called by our founding fathers through the Constitution to take the office.

Ford's first big decision was what to do with Tricky Dick. It is said that Ford remarked at one point that he was spending the majority of time trying to determine the fate of one man when he was charged with serving all US citizens. So he pardoned him and closed the door on that chapter of Presidential misbehavior. Last night I considered what it would have been like to be faced with the same choice, and I am in awe of what a difficult moment that was.

Ford wanted to be Speaker of the House. He was a career legislator whose service began back in the day when seeking a life in politics was considered by many a noble aspiration: a life of service to others. It's always easy to do what is popular at the moment and often difficult to do what you believe is right. By pardoning Nixon, Ford did what he believed was right, and had to know it wouldn't be popular.

I recall harsh and uncharitable critics calling him a do-nothing President and a caretaker. Last night the hearse bearing his body paused on its way. Ford signed the law that opened the doors of US military academies to women. Members of the first graduating class stood and thanked him with a salute and grateful smiles. Ford was a Navy man and every sailor knows that ancient tradition dictates that a woman is bad luck on a boat. As Commander in Chief, Ford had to know this overdue change in policy was not popular with everyone in the military.

Some choices we make are without reflection, because circumstances require immediate action. These reflexive acts, both noble and foolish, are the best we can do with what we've got. Given no opportunity to think about them first, it is useless to carry guilt today about something we wish we had done better. Perhaps we need to learn from them and seek forgiveness for them, but guilt accomplishes neither.

If we are allowed a pause, we're on the hook to do what's right. These choices are, just like the instantaneous ones, the best we can do with what we've got. Not choosing is a kind of choice, so throwing up our hands and walking away is always an option. Endless hand wringing over the unintended consequences of our choices only delays the inevitable: we make all of our choices in a world where we are connected to each other in ways we cannot imagine. Every choice is a pebble tossed in a pond and the ripples carry through the still water towards every shore.

A native American standard seems apt: reflect on the consequences for both the present and for the next seven generations. A choice made today that is convenient and popular, but harms our children's children, or theirs, extending into the future, is a bad choice. We may be cursed at the moment for doing what our heart and mind believe is right. If we bear that criticism with the humility of Gerald Ford, the future's children will thank us for our service to them.

Ford was not famous for being physically graceful. He stumbled. He may have never been elected President because his presence defied the campaign packaging that projects the illusion of a person who is always graceful and in control. Our collective fear drives the machine that manufactures this illusion. What is missing from that package are things that make me more likely to trust someone's judgment: the ability to question past choices, to acknowledge missteps and failures, to learn, and change what we stand for when we believe it's right - even when it's not popular.

Godspeed, Jerry. I cannot deny that I did not endorse everything you did as President. How you did it, when your past choices and fate conspired to hand you a responsibility you never sought, was a model of grace and honor. Consider what the world would look like if we all conducted ourselves likewise. We all stumble. It's what we do next that defines us.

BACK TO THE TO THE TOP
WEB SITE ORIGIN
EVAN'S FAVORITE THOUGHTS