November 13, the day that Paris exploded, was my birthday. And shortly after the early news reports confirmed the extent of the terror, I turned off the television. Most of the weekend was spent reading. Living in the DC area, staying on top of the news is as much a part of life as ridiculous traffic.
I can no longer spend endless hours glued to the repetition of the same information. While the terrorists attacked the lives and livelihoods of the citizens of Brussels, the ripples of their actions wound everyone seeing the reports.
Daily news reports talk of isolationism, interventionists, refugee crises and political intractability. Reading Erik Larson’s Dead Wake about the last voyage of the Lusitania and Churchhill’s calculated effort to bring the US into WWI brings to mind President Wilson’s policy of isolation which only changed after many American lives were lost in the sinking of the ship. This echoes some of today’s political rhetoric.
In Epitaph, Mary Doria Russell’s compelling historical novel about the circumstances leading up to the shootout at the OK Corral, the Republicans and Democrats have vastly different approaches to border issues between Mexico and the Arizona territory. Some of the politicians turn a blind eye to the incursions of rustling cowboys and the killing parties across the border. The lack of cooperation among the parties and the border economic and political issues are all too familiar.
George Santayana is credited with saying, “Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it.” Whether I am reading fiction or narrative nonfiction, I remain alert to the lessons shared. If anything, my reading gives me a much better perspective on the extraordinary domestic and foreign policy challenges we face as Americans.
As the day that changed Belgium forever ends, I watch the late news because information is power. And then there are the rare stories of people reaching out to help strangers, a reminder that when we treat each other with kindness rather than hate good can and will happen.
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