The Thief of Words
Factoid: The President’s speech writers salary is generally paid by Random House or an equally large publishing company in order to avoid any accusations of plagiarism when they write their memoirs.
Several months ago I got up the courage to leave “the rock” Key West, and travel to Washington, DC for a visit with Iris (my co-author)and David Burnett. The highlight of that trip was a tour of places Iris frequented when she was working with the White House. It was then that I began to see the depth of her love for this country and the concern about who the leaders will be.
The first stop, was her favorite ice cream shop where she would take her staff almost on a daily basis for their noon pick-me-up. But they were working 14 to 18 hours a day so I guess that time was well spent. The second place she took me was to the Lincoln Memorial and that’s where she revealed that there were many, many nights when she would visit old Abe and sit on steps and reflect about what a wonderful country we lived in. As we walked inside the memorial she whispered to me, (you see there is a sign that reads “Silence Please” which only we respected but because there was so much tourist chatter about who was going to stand in front of Abe and who was going to take the pictures. She guided me into the room to the right and pointed to the walls inscribed with some of his words.
Yes, words. And I read them, all of them and as we walked out and down the steps I said to her, “Iris, this whole country needs to hear those words again.” Then I told her that I had four grown children and I wished I had brought them here when they were young enough to understand why we consider Abraham Lincoln a true visionary. I even suggested to her that she should make flyers of those writings and have the Democratic National Committee pass them out at every rally or speech their candidates attended.
Hell, they should be printed on the front pages of every newspaper in the United States.
But then, wouldn’t that put all the speech writers, campaign workers, and strategists out of work?
Enough of that, now on to the second memorial, the FDR, as in Franklin Delano Roosevelt, once again I told Iris my children would have no idea what FDR stood for, another mistake on my part I guess. Anyway, as we walked through his expansive memorial of statues and inscriptions I felt myself going back in my childhood. My parents were raised in the era of the great depression, soup lines and governmental work programs. We didn’t have welfare but we did have what was called, Relief. Which was food subsidies. My father was so proud that he never took the monthly trip to receive these handouts, but he was no fool and sent me. I really didn’t want to leave that memorial. I felt once again the pride I carried as not only a citizen but a veteran. Now I could go on and on and just write some more melancholy stuff so I’ll just end this by saying: What happened to our country, how could we have forgotten these great men who uttered such great words that moved us through wars and depression into greatness? Did someone put into effect a law or a ban from using these words under penalty of plagiarism or being called a thief of words. I guess there must be such a law because I never hear anyone repeating them anymore. I just hope somewhere down the line someone doesn’t put covers over those inscriptions with the warning, “No Trespassing!”
As we were walking back to her car she kept blowing her nose and wiping her eyes and I asked her if she was OK and maybe we should go get some ice cream and said she'd love that. Then she explained her eyes were watering because of her allergies. I stopped, took her by the arm and said, "Look around Iris, it's the dead of winter, there isn't one thing growing within a hundred miles."
Clay
Several months ago I got up the courage to leave “the rock” Key West, and travel to Washington, DC for a visit with Iris (my co-author)and David Burnett. The highlight of that trip was a tour of places Iris frequented when she was working with the White House. It was then that I began to see the depth of her love for this country and the concern about who the leaders will be.
The first stop, was her favorite ice cream shop where she would take her staff almost on a daily basis for their noon pick-me-up. But they were working 14 to 18 hours a day so I guess that time was well spent. The second place she took me was to the Lincoln Memorial and that’s where she revealed that there were many, many nights when she would visit old Abe and sit on steps and reflect about what a wonderful country we lived in. As we walked inside the memorial she whispered to me, (you see there is a sign that reads “Silence Please” which only we respected but because there was so much tourist chatter about who was going to stand in front of Abe and who was going to take the pictures. She guided me into the room to the right and pointed to the walls inscribed with some of his words.
Yes, words. And I read them, all of them and as we walked out and down the steps I said to her, “Iris, this whole country needs to hear those words again.” Then I told her that I had four grown children and I wished I had brought them here when they were young enough to understand why we consider Abraham Lincoln a true visionary. I even suggested to her that she should make flyers of those writings and have the Democratic National Committee pass them out at every rally or speech their candidates attended.
Hell, they should be printed on the front pages of every newspaper in the United States.
But then, wouldn’t that put all the speech writers, campaign workers, and strategists out of work?
Enough of that, now on to the second memorial, the FDR, as in Franklin Delano Roosevelt, once again I told Iris my children would have no idea what FDR stood for, another mistake on my part I guess. Anyway, as we walked through his expansive memorial of statues and inscriptions I felt myself going back in my childhood. My parents were raised in the era of the great depression, soup lines and governmental work programs. We didn’t have welfare but we did have what was called, Relief. Which was food subsidies. My father was so proud that he never took the monthly trip to receive these handouts, but he was no fool and sent me. I really didn’t want to leave that memorial. I felt once again the pride I carried as not only a citizen but a veteran. Now I could go on and on and just write some more melancholy stuff so I’ll just end this by saying: What happened to our country, how could we have forgotten these great men who uttered such great words that moved us through wars and depression into greatness? Did someone put into effect a law or a ban from using these words under penalty of plagiarism or being called a thief of words. I guess there must be such a law because I never hear anyone repeating them anymore. I just hope somewhere down the line someone doesn’t put covers over those inscriptions with the warning, “No Trespassing!”
As we were walking back to her car she kept blowing her nose and wiping her eyes and I asked her if she was OK and maybe we should go get some ice cream and said she'd love that. Then she explained her eyes were watering because of her allergies. I stopped, took her by the arm and said, "Look around Iris, it's the dead of winter, there isn't one thing growing within a hundred miles."
Clay
posted by Iris and Clay at
5:24 AM
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