By Michael Ellis
I’m sure two events separated by 61 years can’t sum up our descent into despair, but they may be worth examining, if for no other reason than the experience we have in common.
In 1956, as a high school sophomore, I used to sing the songs of Fats Domino in the back seat of my friend’s car as his mother drove us from place to place. My friend came from a solid Republican family. I came from a family of left-wing Democrats. My voice, then and now, was terrible, and my friend and his mother would groan good-naturedly as I tried to sound like the legendary Fats.
We met as freshmen in 1955 and remained friends until Donald Trump was elected. (I was unwilling to put up with what I thought were sexist jibes at Hillary Clinton and was also unwilling to debate the merits of liberals and conservatives right after the election.)
That friendship is a thing of the past, and I wouldn’t mention it except for Fats’ recent death and a four-minute segment I saw last night (Oct. 26) on the PBS Newshour. (It may be available for a few days on the website.) Together, they represented more than a juxtaposition; they were a harrowing contrast.
Whatever worries I had as a high school sophomore didn’t include a world without decency. (If I was aware, as a teenager, of Joseph Welch’s immortal words to Sen. Joseph McCarthy two years earlier — “have you no sense of decency?” — I’m sure I forgot them as I embraced football and baseball.)
I sang and listened to Fats Domino’s songs because it was joyful to anticipate, and briefly step into, the adult world:
Oh, well, goodbye,
Although I’ll cry.
Ain’t that a shame?
My tears fell like rain.
Ain’t that a shame?
You’re the one to blame.
That, of course, was before Kent State, before the deadened souls marched off to war in Vietnam.
Now, at the age of 76, I listened and watched the pain on Khizr Kahn’s face — even his inability to speak — as he described his son’s death in Iraq. Humayun Khan gave his life to protect others. Who doesn’t remember the Khans telling their story at the Democratic convention? Who doesn’t remember Donald Trump’s response to their appearance?
I’m reminded of these lines from William Butler Yeats’ great poem, “The Second Coming”:
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
This is the America Donald Trump has given us. We can only hope enough people — especially Republican lawmakers, governors, and judges — act before it’s too late.