Mr. President

While in Denver recently, I viewed a portion of the second Presidential debate with my hosts and some of their friends and relatives. 

My hosts, I should mention at this juncture, are African-Americans.  I had always thought  John and Angela were born in this country, but learned on my visit that they were born and raised in Sierra Leone, emigrating to this country for an education, a career, and a better life.  There will be more on them in an upcoming post.

We spent a day touring Ft. Carson and Manitou Springs, a delightful little town replete with inns, restaurants, and shops.  It reminded me of Old Forge, NY on a higher and grander scale-western style.  We visited a scenic park called “The Garden of the Gods.” You’d have to see it, I can not do it justice. 

This tour was courtesy of a Sgt. in the US Army stationed at Ft. Carson, who was a relative of my friends.  He had just come off duty and was due back at work early the next morning, yet he took hours of his precious time to guide us around. By the end of the day, I could easily see the pride this man took in his job, in the Army, and in his country.  And it was then, after our tour had ended, that I also learned he is a Muslim. Lesson noted.

We were invited to dinner at another relative’s home at Ft. Carson.  Dinner over, everyone, adults and children, settled around the television, all in preparation for the debate between The President and Gov. Romney.  As the debate started, there was no sound to be heard.  If little pins were dropped, you would had heard them clearly. 

I often wondered, what do persons of African –American descent really think of Obama? Largely silent, they invite speculation. Do they see him as just another person, another politician, another President?  For some, perhaps.  But for most, I thought they probably looked up to him in a special way because he is the first African-American to hold this high office.  They had every right to boast, yet my limited observations over the years witnessed only a quietness, and I was left to assume that their pride was silently there. 

But on this night, in this place, with this assemblage, I could clearly observe and feel, something. With the children, just as much as the adults, it was the unwavering focus of their attention, the look in their faces, that I had never before witnessed. The feeling was palpable, and deep.

These people were experiencing emotions that I could not read.  I do believe that they saw the one person who carried all of them on his shoulders, someone who lifted them up, and truly elevated them all to a place they never before imagined, but it was more than that.  There was still something I was missing. And then it finally struck me, that perhaps, just maybe, they had one more mountain to climb.

Reflecting on this, I did see in the higher calling of our nature, a reason for one to ruminate over for the re-election of the President, for reasons having nothing to do with politics, but everything to do with fulfillment, and history. 

The second term.  The United States of America, led by a black man, not just for one term, but for the full allotment given by law. I think that was the concern, hope, fear, and fervent desire that was present in that room.

This country had at long last broken the invisible barrier and elected a person of color, a minority if you will, to steer every man, woman, and child through the uncharted waters before us. Would it think enough of him to do it again?  Would it have the same unwavering faith so ingrained in the children and adults in this room? And ultimately, would it trust, not once, but twice, the leadership of this great nation to a black man?  Or would it reject that person, and on a higher level, that premise, to cast a shadow into the years to come?

In my admittedly limited world view, I thought that as a nation we had crossed that bridge, but that night in their faces I saw that there was still an unturned page. For these good folks, I think “the second term” would be the ultimate validation that this nation had finally reached the mountaintop.

Now, go vote on Tuesday, no matter your politics.  You owe it to both candidates.  You owe it to the future.

(PS.... for those who are repeat offenders, you will see some changes in this post, thanks to my ever vigilant editor. The principal one obliquely referenced the electoral college process, which really did not belong here, and deserves a separate post.  Others were simply improvements needed ... as Mark Twain said, more than once, the time to begin writing an article is when you have finished it to your satisfaction!

Mark Twain Quote:  “If we would learn what the human really is at bottom, we need only observe it in election times.”