define a tyrant … man unfit to be ruler of a free people
In every stage of these oppressions, we have petitioned for redress, in the most humble terms. Our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury.
A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
Declaration of Independence, In Congress, July 4, 1776.
Ms. Schiff then takes note of 27 of the grievances and applies them to today, writing, In 2026 they also feel miserably familiar.
Ms. Schiff writes, The Declaration cannot be said to be having a happy semiquincentennial. Very little about the document feels remotely self-evident today.
She ends her piece with this line.
At the end of his inventory of abuses and usurpations, Jefferson slips in a zinger: “A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.”
The new nation went on to create a Constitution so that the Nation might live and through that Constitution, our three branches of Government were set up as a system of Checks and Balances.
A system of Balance that required activity from all three Branches.
Those guys in Philadelphia never considered that two of the three branches would go AWOL.
the nice and exact appreciation of words express full meaning
Knowledge of a language is measured by the nice and exact appreciation of words.
There is no more important element in the technique of rhetoric than the continual employment of the best possible word.
Whatever part of speech it is it must in each case absolutely express the full meaning of the speaker. It will leave no room for alternatives.
Words exist in virtue of no arbitrary rule but have been evolved by the taste and experience of mankind and the instinct of language is implanted very deeply in the human character.
From the essay, The Scaffolding of Rhetoric by Winston Churchill, about which his son, Randolph wrote:
In this prescient essay the 23-year-old Churchill asks: is “the force” of an orator a born quality? Not quite, he concludes: “…rhetorical power is neither wholly bestowed nor wholly acquired, but cultivated.” Yet the speaker displays his deepest feelings before his audience: “Before he can inspire them with any emotion he must be swayed by it himself. When he would rouse their indignation his heart is filled with anger. Before he can inspire them with any emotion he must be swayed by it himself.”
From The Churchill Documents, vol. 2, Young Soldier, 1896-1901 edited by Randolph S. Churchill(Hillsdale College Press, 2006, 816-21).
Charles III spoke in Congress this past week.
Everywhere he went afterward, people thanked him for his speech.
We needed to hear that people shouted to the King.
I found the speech very refreshing.
Instead of a bunch of statements, more or less spilled out as the ideas came to the speaker, here was a speech, laid out, constructed from start to finish.
A nice and exact appreciation of words.
And delivered very nicely too as I remember working with a news director who always wanted captioning used anytime Charles spoke.
Words are wonderful.
Words can be used wonderfully.
I miss them in public life.
Here is the text of HRH speech:
Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, members of Congress, representatives of the American people across all states, territories, cities, and communities.
“I would like to take this opportunity to express my particular gratitude to you all for the great honor of addressing this joint meeting of Congress and, on behalf of the queen and myself, to thank the American people for welcoming us to the United States to mark this semi-quincentennial year of the Declaration of Independence.
“And for all of that time, our destinies as nations have been interlinked. As Oscar Wilde said, ‘We have really everything in common with America nowadays except, of course, language.’
“Ladies and gentlemen, we meet in times of great uncertainty; in times of conflict from Europe to the Middle East, which pose immense challenges for the international community and whose impact is felt in communities the length and breadth of our own countries.
“We meet, too, in the aftermath of the incident not far from this great building that sought to harm the leadership of your nation and to foment wider fear and discord.
“Let me say with unshakeable resolve: such acts of violence will never succeed. Whatever our differences, whatever disagreements we may have, we stand united in our commitment to uphold democracy, to protect all our people from harm, and to salute the courage of those who daily risk their lives in the service of our countries.
“Standing here today, it is hard not to feel the weight of history on my shoulder — because the modern relationship between our two nations and our own peoples spans not merely 250 years, but over four centuries. It is extraordinary to think that I am the 19th in our line of sovereigns to study, with daily attention, the affairs of America.
“So, I come here today with the highest respect for the United States Congress, this citadel of democracy created to represent the voice of all American people to advance sacred rights and freedoms.
“Speaking in this renowned chamber of debate and deliberation, I cannot help but think of my late mother, Queen Elizabeth, who, in 1991, was also afforded this signal honor and similarly spoke under the watchful eye of the Statue of Freedom above us. Today I am here on this great occasion in the life of our nations to express the highest regard and friendship of the British people to the people of the United States.
“As you may know, when I address my own Parliament at Westminster, we still follow an age-old tradition and take a member of Parliament ‘hostage,’ holding him or her at Buckingham Palace until I am safely returned. These days, we look after our ‘guest’ rather well – to the point that they often do not want to leave. I don’t know, Mr. Speaker, if there were any volunteers for that role here today?
“As I look back across the centuries, Mr. Speaker, there emerge certain patterns, certain self-evident truths from which we can learn and draw mutual strength.
“With the spirit of 1776 in our minds, we can perhaps agree that we do not always agree – at least in the first instance. Indeed, the very principle on which your Congress was founded – no taxation without representation – was at once a fundamental disagreement between us, and at the same time a shared democratic value which you inherited from us.
“Ours is a partnership born out of dispute, but no less strong for it, so perhaps, in this example, we can discern that our nations are in fact instinctively like-minded – a product of the common democratic, legal and social traditions in which our governance is rooted to this day.
“Drawing on these values and traditions, time and again, our two countries have always found ways to come together. And by Jove, Mr. Speaker, when we have found that way to agree, what great change is brought about – not just for the benefit of our peoples, but of all peoples.
“This, I believe, is the special ingredient in our relationship. As President Trump himself observed during his state visit to Britain last autumn, ‘The bond of kinship and identity between America and the United Kingdom is priceless and eternal. It is irreplaceable and unbreakable.’
“This is by no means my first visit to Washington DC – the capital of this great republic. It is in fact my 20th visit to the United States, and my first as King and head of the Commonwealth.
“This is a city which symbolizes a period in our shared history, or what Charles Dickens might have called ‘A Tale of Two Georges’: the first President, George Washington, and my five-times Great Grandfather, King George III. King George never set foot in America and, please rest assured, I am not here as part of some cunning rearguard action.
“The Founding Fathers were bold and imaginative rebels with a cause. Two hundred and fifty years ago, or, as we say in the United Kingdom ‘just the other day,’ they declared Independence. By balancing contending forces and drawing strength in diversity, they united 13 disparate colonies to forge a nation on the revolutionary idea of ‘life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.’ They carried with them, and carried forward, the great inheritance of the British Enlightenment – as well as the ideals which had an even deeper history in English common law and Magna Carta.
“These roots run deep, and they are still vital. Our Declaration of Rights of 1689 was not only the foundation of our constitutional monarchy, but also provided the source of so many of the principles reiterated, often verbatim, in the American Bill of Rights of 1791.
“And those roots go even further back in our history: the U.S. Supreme Court Historical Society has calculated that Magna Carta is cited in at least 160 Supreme Court cases since 1789, not least as the foundation of the principle that executive power is subject to checks and balances.
“This is the reason why there stands a stone, by the River Thames at Runnymede where Magna Carta was signed in the year 1215. This stone records that an acre of that ancient and historic site was given to the United States of America by the people of the United Kingdom, to symbolize our shared resolve in support of liberty, and in memory of President John F. Kennedy.
“Distinguished members of the 119th Congress, it is here in these very halls that this spirit of liberty and the promise of America’s founders is present in every session and every vote cast.
“Not by the will of one, but by the deliberation of many, representing the living mosaic of the United States. In both of our countries, it is the very fact of our vibrant, diverse and free societies that gives us our collective strength, including to support victims of some of the ills that, so tragically, exist in both our societies today.
“And, Mr. Speaker, for many here – and for myself – the Christian faith is a firm anchor and daily inspiration that guides us not only personally, but together as members of our community. Having devoted a large part of my life to interfaith relationships and greater understanding, it is that faith in the triumph of light over darkness which I have found confirmed countless times.
“Through it I am inspired by the profound respect that develops as people of different faiths grow in their understanding of each other. It is why it is my hope – my prayer – that, in these turbulent times, working together and with our international partners, we can stem the beating of plowshares into swords.
“I am mindful that we are still in the season of Easter, the season that most strengthens my hope. It is why I believe, with all my heart, that the essence of our two nations is a generosity of spirit and a duty to foster compassion, to promote peace, to deepen mutual understanding and to value all people, of all faiths, and of none.
“The alliance that our two nations have built over the centuries, and for which we are profoundly grateful to the American people, is truly unique. And that alliance is part of what Henry Kissinger described as Kennedy’s ‘soaring vision’ of an Atlantic partnership based on twin pillars: Europe and America. That partnership, I believe Mr. Speaker, is more important today than it has ever been.
“The first reigning British sovereign to set foot in America was my grandfather, King George VI. He visited in 1939 with my beloved grandmother, Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother. The forces of fascism in Europe were on the march, and some time before the United States had joined us in the defense of freedom. Our shared values prevailed.
“Today, we find ourselves in a new era, but those values remain.
“It is an era that is, in many ways, more volatile and more dangerous than the world to which my late mother spoke, in this chamber, in 1991.
“The challenges we face are too great for any one nation to bear alone. But in this unpredictable environment, our alliance cannot rest on past achievements, or assume that foundational principles simply endure. As my Prime Minister said last month: ‘ours is an indispensable partnership. We must not disregard everything that has sustained us for the last eighty years. Instead, we must build on it.’
“Renewal today starts with security. The United Kingdom recognizes that the threats we face demand a transformation in British defense.
“That is why our country, in order to be fit for the future, has committed to the biggest sustained increase in defense spending since the Cold War – during part of which, over 50 years ago, I served with immense pride in the Royal Navy, following in the naval footsteps of my father, Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh; my grandfather, King George VI; my great uncle, Lord Mountbatten; and my great grandfather, King George V.
“This year, of course, also marks the 25th anniversary of 9/11. This atrocity was a defining moment for America and your pain and shock were felt around the whole world. During my visit to New York, my wife and I will again pay our respects to the victims, the families, and the bravery shown in the face of terrible loss. We stood with you then. And we stand with you now in solemn remembrance of a day that shall never be forgotten.
“In the immediate aftermath of 9/11, when NATO invoked Article Five for the first time, and the United Nations Security Council was united in the face of terror, we answered the call together – as our people have done so for more than a century, shoulder to shoulder, through two World Wars, the Cold War, Afghanistan and moments that have defined our shared security.
“Today, Mr. Speaker, that same, unyielding resolve is needed for the defense of Ukraine and her most courageous people. It is needed in order to secure a truly just and lasting peace. From the depths of the Atlantic to the disastrously melting icecaps of the Arctic, the commitment and expertise of the United States Armed Forces and its allies lie at the heart of NATO, pledged to each other’s defense, protecting our citizens and interests, keeping North Americans and Europeans safe from our common adversaries.
“Our defense, intelligence and security ties are hard-wired together through relationships measured not in years, but in decades.
“Today, thousands of U.S. service personnel, defense officials and their families are stationed in the United Kingdom, as British personnel serve with equal pride across 30 American states. We are building F-35s together. And we have agreed the most ambitious submarine program in history, AUKUS, in partnership with Australia, a country of which I am also immensely proud to serve as sovereign.
“We do not embark on these remarkable endeavors together out of sentiment. We do so because they build greater shared resilience for the future, so making our citizens safer for generations to come.
“Our common ideals were not only crucial for liberty and equality, they are also the foundation of our shared prosperity. The rule of law: the certainty of stable and accessible rules, an independent judiciary resolving disputes and delivering impartial justice. These features created the conditions for centuries of unmatched economic growth in our two countries. This is why our governments are concluding new economic and technology agreements – to write the next chapter of our joint prosperity and ensure that British and American ingenuity continues to lead the world.
“Our nations are combining talent and resources in the technologies of tomorrow: our new partnerships in nuclear fusion and quantum computing, and in AI and drug discovery, holding the promise of saving countless lives.
“More broadly, we celebrate the 430 billion dollars in annual trade that continues to grow, the 1.7 trillion dollars in mutual investment that fuels that innovation, and the millions of jobs on both sides of the Atlantic supported across both economies. These are strong foundations on which to continue to build, for generations yet unborn.
“Our ties in education, research, and cultural exchange empower citizens and future leaders of both countries.
“The Marshall Scholarship, named after the great General George Marshall, and the Association of which I am so proud to be patron, are emblematic of the connection between our two countries.
“Since its founding, more than 2,300 scholarships have been awarded, opening doors for Americans from all walks of life to study at the United Kingdom’s leading universities.
“So as we look toward the next 250 years, we must also reflect on our shared responsibility to safeguard nature, our most precious and irreplaceable asset.
“Millennia before our nations existed, before any border drawn, the mountains of Scotland and Appalachia were one, a single, continuous range, forged in the ancient collision of continents.
“The natural wonders of the United States of America are indeed a unique asset, and generations of Americans have risen to this calling: indigenous, political and civic leaders, people in rural communities and cities alike, have all helped to protect and nurture what President Theodore Roosevelt called ‘the glorious heritage’ of this land’s extraordinary natural splendor, on which so much of its prosperity has always depended.
“Yet even as we celebrate the beauty that surrounds us, our generation must decide how to address the collapse of critical natural systems which threatens far more than the harmony and essential diversity of nature. We ignore at our peril the fact that these natural systems, in other words, nature’s own economy, provide the foundation for our prosperity and our national security.
“The story of the United Kingdom and the United States is, at its heart, a story of reconciliation, renewal and remarkable partnership.
“From the bitter divisions of 250 years ago, we forged a friendship that has grown into one of the most consequential alliances in human history.
“I pray with all my heart that our alliance will continue to defend our shared values, with our partners in Europe and the Commonwealth, and across the world, and that we ignore the clarion calls to become ever more inward-looking.
“Mr. Speaker, Mr. Vice-President, distinguished ladies and gentlemen, America’s words carry weight and meaning, as they have since Independence.
“The actions of this great nation matter even more.
“President Lincoln understood this so well, with his reflection in the magisterial Gettysburg Address that the world may little note what we say, but will never forget what we do.
“And so, to the United States of America, on your 250th birthday, let our two countries rededicate ourselves to each other in the selfless service of our peoples and of all the peoples of the world.
“God bless the United States and God bless the United Kingdom.”
I don’t think they are unhinged when it comes to him … they’re duly alarmed
Adapted from the Opinion Column, I’m Not a King, but I Play One on TV as part of The Conversation by Frank Bruni and Bret Stephens where Mr. Bruni writes:
I don’t think most liberals are unhinged when it comes to Trump.
I think they’re duly alarmed.
And you can’t say liberals have “played the same game” when they haven’t mounted a comprehensive effort to overturn a presidential election — as Trump and his minions did in 2020 — and they weren’t breaking the windows of the Capitol, assaulting police officers and chanting for Mike Pence to be dragged to the gallows.
The Hopeless Quandry – Our New Natural History – James Thurber
ignorant of how they see, don’t see unless work very hard at it
Paul Cézanne – The Village of L’Estaque Seen from the Sea (Le village de l’Estaque vu de la mer)
Sprawled there by the creek and cautioning myself against my canteen whiskey I stared at the assortment of dead leaves that had gathered themselves in the spring, with some floating, a few suspended in the clear water, and the bottom of the spring pasted yellow and dull red with the others.
I had once tried to paint this phenomenon, unsuccessfully in the minds of others because it is not the sort of thing one can see clearly.
There was the odd thought, absent for years, that nearly everyone was ignorant of how they see, lost as they were in the attraction for the simplicity of photographs, which is not how anyone sees.
We don’t see all at once unless we work very hard at it.
When I first saw Cézanne’s work I was dumbstruck at his comprehension of true vision.
From True North by Jim Harrison (New York, Grove Press, 2004).
current climate leaves rational-minded feeling hopeless powerless
Adapted from the article, “If it feels like the world is rejecting science and truth, here are five ways to fight back” by Helen Pearson, editor for Nature and author of Beyond Belief: How Evidence Shows What Really Works where MS. Pearson writes:
The current climate can leave rational-minded people feeling hopeless or powerless.
But fighting back in small ways can make a big difference.
All of us can choose to consider facts, not vibes, in our next decision.
One hack is simply to ask for the evidence behind claims.
Even if a claim is all over social media, it could be nonsense if there’s no credible research that backs it up.
The current climate can leave rational-minded people feeling hopeless or powerless.
BOY Howdy BUT NO KIDDING!
The comeback We are better than this … doesn’t seem to work and THIS IS WHO WE ARE and The current climate can leave rational-minded people feeling hopeless or powerless.
Ms. Pearson closes with:
… it’s important to be humble about science and about what changes minds.
Research is complex, changing, frequently uncertain, sometimes flawed and often fails to provide clear answers.
Simple stories resonate, which is why one person’s experience (“it worked for me”) often feels more convincing than data about thousands of people.
But we have plenty of good stories and big wins in our corner too – so let’s tell people those stories.
Sounds good right?
Let me tell you the story how this country beat measles.
Let me tell you the story how this country beat polio.
We got the good stories and we tell the good stories.
But the current climate can leave rational-minded people feeling hopeless or powerless.
Ggggggggggggggggggggggeeee whiz.
The Day the Dam Broke by James Thurber
My memories of what my family and I went through during the 1913 flood in Ohio I would gladly forget. And yet neither the hardships we endured nor the turmoil and confusion we experienced can alter my feeling toward my native state and city. I am having a fine time now and wish Columbus were here, but if anyone ever wished a city was in hell it was during that frightful and perilous afternoon in 1913 when the dam broke, or, to be more exact, when everybody in town thought that the dam broke. We were both ennobled and demoralized by the experience. Grandfather especially rose to magnificent heights which can never lose their splendor for me, even though his reactions to the flood were based upon a profound misconception; namely, that Nathan Bedford Forrest’s cavalry was the menace we were called upon to face. The only possible means of escape for us was to flee the house, a step which grandfather sternly forbade, brandishing his old army sabre in his hand. “Let the sons — —- come!” he roared. Meanwhile hundreds of people were streaming by our house in wild panic, screaming “Go east! Go east!” We had to stun grandfather with the ironing board. Impeded as we were by the inert form of the old gentleman–he was taller than six feet and weighed almost a hundred and seventy pounds–we were passed, in the first half-mile, by practically everybody else in the city. Had grandfather not come to, at the corner of Parsons Avenue and Town Street, we would unquestionably have been overtaken and engulfed by the roaring waters–that is, if there had been any roaring waters. Later, when the panic had died down and people had gone rather sheepishly back to their homes and their offices, minimizing the distances they had run and offering various reasons for running, city engineers pointed out that even if the dam had broken, the water level would not have risen more than two additional inches in the West Side. The West Side was, at the time of the dam scare, under thirty feet of water–as, indeed, were all Ohio river towns during the great spring floods of twenty years ago. The East Side (where we lived and where all the running occurred) had never been in any danger at all. Only a rise of some ninety-five feet could have caused the flood waters to flow over High Street–the thoroughfare that divided the east side of town from the west–and engulf the East Side.
The fact that we were all as safe as kittens under a cookstove did not, however, assuage in the least the fine despair and the grotesque desperation which seized upon the residents of the East Side when the cry spread like a grass fire that the dam had given way. Some of the most dignified, staid, cynical, and clear-thinking men in town abandoned their wives, stenographers, homes, and offices and ran east. There are few alarms in the world more terrifying than “The dam has broken!” There are few persons capable of stopping to reason when that clarion cry strikes upon their ears, even persons who live in towns no nearer than five hundred miles to a dam.
The Columbus, Ohio, broken-dam rumor began, as I recall it, about noon of March 12, 1913. High Street, the main canyon of trade, was loud with the placid hum of business and the buzzing of placid businessmen arguing, computing, wheedling, offering, refusing, compromising. Darius Conningway, one of the foremost corporation lawyers in the Middle-West, was telling the Public Utilities Commission in the language of Julius Caesar that they might as well try to move the Northern star as to move him. Other men were making their little boasts and their little gestures. Suddenly somebody began to run. It may be that he had simply remembered, all of a moment, an engagement to meet his wife, for which he was now frightfully late. Whatever it was, he ran east on Broad Street (probably toward the Maramor Restaurant, a favorite place for a man to meet his wife). Somebody else began to run, perhaps a newsboy in high spirits. Another man, a portly gentleman of affairs, broke into a trot. Inside of ten minutes, everybody on High Street, from the Union Depot to the Courthouse was running. A loud mumble gradually crystallized into the dread word “dam.” “The dam has broke!” The fear was put into words by a little old lady in an electric, or by a traffic cop, or by a small boy: nobody knows who, nor does it now really matter. Two thousand people were abruptly in full flight. “Go east!,” was the cry that arose–east away from the river, east to safety. “Go east! Go east! Go east!”
Black streams of people flowed eastward down all the streets leading in that direction; these streams, whose headwaters were in the drygoods stores, office buildings, harness shops, movie theatres, were fed by trickles of housewives, children, cripples, servants, dogs, and cats, slipping out of the houses past which the main streams flowed, shouting and screaming. People ran out leaving fires burning and food cooking and doors wide open. I remember, however, that my mother turned out all the fires and that she took with her a dozen eggs and two loaves of bread. It was her plan to make Memorial Hall, just two blocks away, and take refuge somewhere in the top of it, in one of the dusty rooms where war veterans met and where old battle flags and stage scenery were stored. But the seething throngs, shouting “Go east!” drew her along and the rest of us with her. When grandfather regained full consciousness, at Parsons Avenue, he turned upon the retreating mob like a vengeful prophet and exhorted the men to form ranks and stand off the Rebel dogs, but at length he, too, got the idea that the dam had broken and, roaring “Go east!” in his powerful voice, he caught up in one arm a small child and in the other a slight clerkish man of perhaps forty-two and we slowly began to gain on those ahead of us.
A scattering of firemen, policemen, and army officers in dress uniforms–there had been a review at Fort Hayes, in the northern part of town–added color to the surging billows of people. “Go east!” cried a little child in a piping voice, as she ran past a porch on which drowsed a lieutenant-colonel of infantry. Used to quick decisions, trained to immediate obedience, the officer bounded off the porch and, running at full tilt, soon passed the child, bawling “Go east!” The two of them emptied rapidly the houses of the little street they were on. “What is it? What is it?” demanded a fat, waddling man who intercepted the colonel. The officer dropped behind and asked the little child what it was. “The dam has broke!” gasped the girl. “The dam has broke!” roared the colonel. “Go east! Go east! Go east!” He was soon leading, with the exhausted child in his arms, a fleeing company of three hundred persons who had gathered around him from living-rooms, shops, garages, backyards, and basements.
Nobody has ever been able to compute with any exactness how many people took part in the great rout of 1913, for the panic, which extended from the Winslow Bottling Works in the south end to Clintonville, six miles north, ended as abruptly as it began and the bobtail and ragtag and velvet-gowned groups of refugees melted away and slunk home, leaving the streets peaceful and deserted. The shouting, weeping, tangled evacuation of the city lasted not more than two hours in all. Some few people got as far east as Reynoldsburg, twelve miles away; fifty or more reached the Country Club, eight miles away; most of the others gave up, exhausted, or climbed trees in Franklin Park, four miles out. Order was restored and fear dispelled finally by means of militiamen riding about in motor lorries bawling through megaphones: “The dam has not broken!” At first this tended only to add to the confusion and increase the panic, for many stampeders thought the soldiers were bellowing “The dam has now broken!,” thus setting an official seal of authentication on the calamity.
All the time, the sun shone quietly and there was nowhere any sign of oncoming waters. A visitor in an airplane, looking down on the straggling, agitated masses of people below, would have been hard put to it to divine a reason for the phenomenon. It must have inspired, in such an observer, a peculiar kind of terror, like the sight of the Marie Celeste, abandoned at sea, its galley fires peacefully burning, its tranquil decks bright in the sunlight.
An aunt of mine, Aunt Edith Taylor, was in a movie theatre on High Street when, over and above the sound of the piano in the pit (a W. S. Hart picture was being shown), there rose the steadily increasing tromp of running feet. Persistent shouts rose above the tromping. An elderly man, sitting near my aunt, mumbled something, got out of his seat, and went up the aisle at a dogtrot. This started everybody. In an instant the audience was jamming the aisles. “Fire!” shouted a woman who always expected to be burned up in a theatre; but now the shouts outside were louder and coherent. “The dam has broke!” cried somebody. “Go east!” screamed a small woman in front of my aunt. And east they went, pushing and shoving and clawing, knocking women and children down, emerging finally into the street, torn and sprawling. Inside the theatre, Bill Hart was calmly calling some desperado’s bluff and the brave girl at the piano played “Row! Row! Row!” loudly and then “In My Harem.” Outside, men were streaming across the Statehouse yard, others were climbing trees, a woman managed to get up onto the “These Are My Jewels” statue, whose bronze figures of Sherman, Stanton, Grant, and Sheridan watched with cold unconcern the going to pieces of the capital city.
“I ran south to State Street, east on State to Third, south on Third to Town, and out east on Town,” my Aunt Edith has written me. “A tall spare woman with grim eyes and a determined chin ran past me down the middle of the street. I was still uncertain as to what was the matter, in spite of all the shouting. I drew up alongside the woman with some effort, for although she was in her late fifties, she had a beautiful easy running form and seemed to be in excellent condition. ‘What is it?’ I puffed. She gave me a quick glance and then looked ahead again, stepping up her pace a trifle. ‘Don’t ask me, ask God!’ she said.
“When I reached Grant Avenue, I was so spent that Dr. H. R. Mallory–you remember Dr. Mallory, the man with the white beard who looks like Robert Browning?–well, Dr. Mallory, whom I had drawn away from at the corner of Fifth and Town, passed me. ‘It’s got us!’ he shouted, and I felt sure that whatever it was did have us, for you know what conviction Dr. Mallory’s statements always carried. I didn’t know at the time what he meant, but I found out later. There was a boy behind him on roller-skates, and Dr. Mallory mistook the swishing of the skates for the sound of rushing water. He eventually reached the Columbus School for Girls, at the corner of Parsons Avenue and Town Street, where he collapsed, expecting the cold frothing waters of the Scioto to sweep him into oblivion. The boy on the skates swirled past him and Dr. Mallory realized for the first time what he had been running from. Looking back up the street, he could see no signs of water, but nevertheless, after resting a few minutes, he jogged on east again. He caught up with me at Ohio Avenue, where we rested together. I should say that about seven hundred people passed us. A funny thing was that all of them were on foot. Nobody seemed to have had the courage to stop and start his car; but as I remember it, all cars had to be cranked in those days, which is probably the reason.”
The next day, the city went about its business as if nothing had happened, but there was no joking. It was two years or more before you dared treat the breaking of the dam lightly. And even now, twenty years after, there are a few persons, like Dr. Mallory, who will shut up like a clam if you mention the Afternoon of the Great Run.
