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The Final Reflections of

 Everett Charles Albers 

"The unexamined life is not worth living" is a famous dictum uttered by Socrates in Plato's Apology.
​A lifelong student of the humanities, Ev Albers personified the examined life.

Happy Birthday Grover (Cleveland), Iraq One Year Later

3/18/2020

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Thursday, March 18th, 2004

Words for Today
"Ask not what your country can do for you . . . It can't do a thing, and it's unpatriotic to think that it should."

That's what Birthday Boy, Big Grover Cleveland said in his second inaugural address in March 1893 – he won the election over the incumbent Benjamin Harrison to a second term after being out of office for four years. Born on this day in 1837, President Cleveland simply did not believe that the social compact should in anyway involve sharing the costs of each other's well being, good health, or educational opportunity – or anything else, for that matter. He had his own problems, as I outlined in my journal entry last year on this date (see 3/18/03; select above). Cleveland married his ward, Francis Folsom in 1886 in the White House. He was forty-nine, she was twenty-one. Their child, Baby Ruth – in fact, the person for whom the Baby Ruth candy bar is named – was born between terms in 1891. Francis was the daughter of Cleveland's law partner, Oscar Folsom, whose estate Cleveland administered (he was never Francis' legal guardian). Cleveland was much taken with the young daughter of his deceased friend, and he requested permission from Mr. Folsom to correspond with here.

During the campaign of 1884, Republicans came up with an attack ditty and a charge that Cleveland had fathered a child out-of-wedlock. Cleveland accepted responsibility for fathering Oscar Folsom Cleveland, born in 1874 to Maria Helprin, a New Jersey widow who left her two children and moved to Buffalo to have a better life – she became a department manager in a department store, quite an achievement for a single woman. She kept company with several men, including Cleveland and his friend and law partner, Oscar Folsom (father of Cleveland's future wife). Cleveland accepted paternal responsibility because the other men were married – he thought he had less to lose than they – even though he was not at all certain he was the father of Oscar, who was later adopted by a prominent New York family and became a doctor. Cleveland tried to help Oscar's mother – who turned to drinking big time after Oscar Folsom's death. He paid her $500 to give up custody of the body and resettled her in New Rochelle, where she married. "Ma, Ma, where's my Pa?" was the chant in the presidential campaign of 1884 – with the cartoon of a wailing boy saying "I want my Pa." The Democrats answered with "Gone to the White House, ha, ha, ha!" Voters didn't seem to be all that concerned about Cleveland's private life -–besides, he freely admitted his possible responsibility – in fact, went beyond what the circumstances warranted.

Eight years later, in 1892, there wasn't much of a campaign, because when President Harrison's wife, Caroline, died in October 1892, both parties stopped campaigning out of respect. Don't think that would happen today.

Today is the first anniversary of "Time's Nearly Up" for the ultimatum given to Saddam by the Bush administration – get out of Iraq, along with your family, and we'll think about not bombing the hell out of your country. 'Twas not a time for much of any dissent -– after all, we Americans have to stand together. Many are saying the same thing today. Last year I wrote,

For some, it may border on the unpatriotic to discuss such as who will benefit mightily from the almost-certain war with Iraq – which companies and individuals will not only expect but get "direct individual advantages" from the conflict and the enormously expensive rebuilding of the country. We know that bids have been already been prepared for various aspects of that project. We also know, if history informs what is likely to happen – a few large international companies will do very well indeed.

But one must be careful about raises such issues on the eve of war.

Once more, we live out a national myth – for all its critical importance to our living together in reasonable harmony, nonetheless one that leaves us dangerously exposed – for we are the lone warrior, the cowboy with the white hat, standing almost alone – with the exception of a side-kick or two – against evil incarnate. What is understandable but disturbing is the why in which we slide into our role in the myth when the moment comes – if polls are to believed, public support for intervention in Iraq unless Saddam leaves within a day or so climbs by the hour – strange and wonderful – more like a movie than reality – at 8:30 A.M. on the brink of the conflict, viewers around the world, including the Iraqis, are given a complete breakdown of the likely attack plan by a military expert --

What's to be done, kola? More than ever, we have to find whys to keep our sanity – to take care of ourselves so that we can look out for each other. Perhaps that begins, sometimes, with admitting the possibility that we can have qualms about what our country and its leaders are doing in our name without having to feel guilty that we are flirting with treason.

​If one who still has qualms listened to Vice President Cheney speak yesterday at the Reagan Library out in California, such a one might well conclude that she/he were endangering the health and safety – nay, the lives – of our fellow citizens. 'Twas Grover Cleveland, a Democrat, who said what Cheney and Bush have so often implied: "The ship of Democracy, which has weathered all storms, may sink through the mutiny of those aboard." Cleveland also said, "The United States is not a nation to which peace is a necessity." President Cleveland was far too honest – he would not survive as a politician today, methinks. For example, he believed that "Sensible and responsible women do not want to vote. The relative positions to be assumed by man and woman in the working out of our civilization were assigned long ago by a higher intelligence than ours." And he said, "He mocks the people who proposes that the government shall protect the rich and that they in turn will care for the laboring poor."

President Cleveland was not a particularly optimistic fellow – he didn't have much faith in relying on the best of human instincts to improve the social compact. He lived in a time, of course, when the first order of business in this country was looking out for Number One – the great American Dream was to amass wealth far in excess of what one needed – and too bad for those one had to use to get it.

There's a bit of the same attitude today – and the cynical are still wondering about who is making a good chunk of money from what is called "Operation Peace" in Iraq. 'Tis a gloriously beauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutiful day here in Dakota – with plenty of sunshine heading our way ("Zippity Do Dah, Zippity Day"). I'm actually thinking about breakfast this fine day – which is a good thing, methinks. And I'm mostly comfortable – the weest bit weak and a good deal slower to recover from the last round of chemo, but most grateful to be alive and some possible use to society for what I hope will be a good while longer. 'Tis a time of hope – and starting the world anew – for 'tis coming up spring. May it be spring and summer for our country before what should be a civil discourse about the future of our social compact during the last couple of months before the election. We can always hope that the present nonsense will surcease for the weest – 'tain't likely – but sometimes it happens. I do think that more Americans than ever before have become aware that partisan politics and anything approaching truth are nearly mutually exclusive. Be well, kola – and take care of yourselves and look out for each other.

Ev Albers
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    Author

    Everett Charles Albers was the founding director of Humanities North Dakota (formerly known as North Dakota Humanities Council). Ev brought his love of the humanities to the greatest challenge of his life, his  diagnosis of pancreatic cancer in September 2002.
    Given three months to live, Everett lived and worked for another 18 months, while also writing daily, on-line journal entries in which he reflected on the people and experiences of his life, books and music, pie and the great humanities question of all time: "Where have we been, and where are we going?" 

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