Again, tonight, the nature of this post requires a soundtrack from Mozart while you read.
Like many people, I spent much of today thinking about Senator Ted Kennedy and the impact he had on my life, the lives of a multitude of Americans and the world. Although from a rich and priveleged family, he spent his live in service to his country – a champion of the causes that made the lives of those without that same advantage better. He didn’t have to do this, and – given the tragic circumstances that surrounded him and his family- it would be easy to understand had he chosen against it. But instead he plunged headlong into public service, and in so doing became the most effective legislator in the history of our country.
For me, however, there is a deeper meaning to Senator Kennedy’s legacy. Listening today to countless elected officials, political analysts, friends, Republicans, Democrats, and even Independents, one thing became abundantly clear. Kennedy cared. They called him the “Lion of the Senate” because his passions were there for his politics, sure, but he cared about people. And, in an age where politics is so incredibly, so negatively personal that there is an organized campaign to question the President’s citizenship – where the epithets hurled from the left and the right have nothing to do with position and everything to do with persona – in this age of the constant simmer beneath the surface: There was Ted Kennedy able to make connections, build bridges, among friend and foe alike. This was a man who was loved by the most ideologically opposed, and for whom “fellow human being” meant far more than “fellow Senator.” In a world dominated by self-interest and yearning for power, Senator Kennedy was loved not for his ego nor his power, but for who he was. And that brought commonality and understanding, friendship and decency.
To me, Senator Kennedy had in him the same qualities that music has. Music, it is said, can narrow the widest divide and form common bonds that last a lifetime. It is clear that Ted Kennedy lived his life with much the same impact on those who knew him. I live in New England, and I know many that have had the pleasure to meet him.
Oddly, my encounter with him was from a distance, and purely a musical one. It was 5 years ago on one beautiful, hot, cloudless July weekend, and my wife and I had put our twins, then still in the double-wide stroller, into the minivan and took off for Cape Cod for the day. Our first stop was Hyannis, and we were strolling up and down the main street in town, the kids in the stroller, window shopping and enjoying the crowd. We got to one shop where it was just too small to fit the twins’ in the stroller, so I waited outside with them while Kate shopped.
It was getting near nap time, and both kids were starting to nod off – although pointing at things and exclaiming about them the way toddlers do. Then, suddenly, from across the street an orchestra started playing. We couldn’t see it, but we heard it just fine, and it seemed to catch most of those in town by surprise (we later learned this was the Boston Pops Orchestra playing an outdoor concert). It was the theme to the film Gettysburg. Then, about three minutes in, a booming baritone – that signature Teddy Kennedy baritone – roared out with the Gettysburg Address. More people stopped. My wife came out of the shop.
“Is that Teddy,” she was delighted, “how cool!” And back in she went. I leaned down and looked at the twins, who were now both wide awake and clapping. I told them: “That’s Senator Kennedy, and someday in school you’ll learn how he made this country a much better place to live.”
And that’s exactly what he did, in person and in policy. We should all thank him for it.
More notes on notes, tomorrow.