Time of Sorrows

For the second time in a scant three months, the Sunshine family will draw together to bid farewell to one of our own.

Husband, father, grandfather, our brother-in-law and uncle and great uncle, John Dawson, stricken unexpectedly while jogging after work yesterday.

We are ever mindful of the fierce urgency of now, the abruptness with which the bottom can drop out of the same ol' same ol'.

Hold your loved ones close, hold your politicians accountable.

The Last Link

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As the weekend continues apace with news media filling time between events of the memorializing and burial of Senator Ted Kennedy, we are learning about the prodigious legislative record of the Senator.

The enormity of the links of all-inclusive health care reform that have already been forged. Stamped with his name, but bearing the mark of the progressive values that reflect both the spiritual -- to the least of my brethren -- and the secular -- We, the people.

While the GOP ghouls attack, because they know not how to govern and proved it when they had the chance and drove the entire country into the mire of division and destruction, the mantle of healthcare reform now turns to the rest of us.

To those who fear change, who respond to the fearmongering worst that the GOP and status quo have to offer, I say simply this:

We have one more link to forge and the chain will be complete. Judge the last link by what has gone before. Social Security. Medicare. Americans with Disabilities Act...the list is virtually legion.

The chain becomes the circle of life unbroken. Strength found in each individual circling link that comprises the whole.

To those who say we don't have the votes, it can't be done, it's too hard, I say simply this:

We have one more link to forge and the chain will be complete.

How can we do any less?
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Coda

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We
carry
on....
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R I P Senator Edward M. Kennedy

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1932 - 2009

Others will pontificate and write and judge and blather.
I just have this simple hope:

The Senator Edward M. Kennedy Health Reform Act
of 2009

Passed and signed. With the public option.

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Would that this becomes the clarion call the Senators will be compelled to heed. It's already begun:

Noted over at daily kos’ pundit roundup, from the legendary Iowa political reporter David Yepsen:

This passage ought to fill Democrats with a new resolve to do something about health care. Much will be said about this man in the coming days, yet there can be no greater tribute to him than for Democrats to pass health care reform. While the party has lost his powerful voice, perhaps it can now find its own backbone.

Amen.

Enough is Enough

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On his last living day in North Dakota, my Mr. Sunshine broke through the fog that newly transforming acute leukemia tried to envelop him in. Our old friend, dear friend, came to the hospital to bid him well, godspeed, take care, see you soon.

And ran into the Linc-n-Sand tagteam determined to tell him to relay to Kent and Earl and Byron how important it was that they get health care reform right. That the status quo could not go on. That health care reform, real reform, is about patients first, people first. With the public option.

The false profits, false prophets, the golden calf crowd of medicine, must not conduct business as usual. The ghouls and vampires who suck the lifeblood from the healthcare system, the deniers of treatments, the rationers of healthcare, the profiteers, the predators, must not be rewarded, enabled, bailed out. Not any more.

Our old friend, dear friend, can bear witness, attest this is true.

We went to Mayo Clinic/Methodist Hospital in crisis. Grasping for one last chance. A chance that was not meant to be. But in the going, we found what Mr. Sunshine's doctor called medical utopia.

Patients first.

Expertise. Caring. Heck, even computers in every unit's visitor's lounge. A brother-and-sisterhood among families and patients and doctors and medical teams and nurses and the woman at the checkout in the cafeteria and....

We found something else.

Fear. That the reform will be screwed up. And while a medical person talks in outraged tones about the greedy hyperpriced cost of the medicines of treatment. And you read on the faces of families, the shadows under their eyes, the brimming tears, the hopefulness, the sorrow...

The fear...

We're seeing the partisan lines being drawn. The predictable weasels being their weaselly worst... the DeMinted cackling about causing pain for Senators, for Obama, not looking in the mirror and seeing the rot of their own souls... the cowards cravenly hanging on to their own socialized healthcare while denying us ours....

And we're seeing hope...

That maybe, just maybe, this time, if enough voices are raised, if enough people refuse to settle for the same ol' same ol', then maybe, just maybe, this time...we'll get it right.

I understand Frank Ricci now. I understand Cindy Sheehan now. Some fundamental values, principles, rights, demand us speaking out. No matter how inconvenient the timing.

I'm conflicted. I'm mourning my Mr. Sunshine right now. It would be oh, so easy to sit back and say someone else can shoulder the load. But if not me, then who? Will it be you?

Words are my tears now.

It's not just Senator Kennedy who believes healthcare reform is the cause of a lifetime. It's the medical community at Mayo, it's the small town and urban patients and families who fill its halls, their Minnesota license plates dwarfing the abundance even from across these United States and those who fly in for Mayo care.

It's good enough for sheiks and princes and Bushes... and for the 85-year-old woman from Sioux Falls, and the retired RVer from Rockford, and the Sunshines from Fargo...

It's up to the Senators and Congress now. Will it be good enough for the rest of US?
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Crossposted at firedoglake's The Seminal and Prairie in Dakota Territory, hosted by Fargo's Forum newspaper

Sunshine, Sun Set

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Behind every blogname, there is a real name. And a real life. And ours has been hit hard by one of those life milestones you hope to forestall as long as possible. My Mr. Sunshine is Lincoln Lyle Huseby, and here is his story.

Lincoln Lyle Huseby was a lifelong resident of the Clara Barton neighborhood of South Fargo. He was born February 9, 1948, the oldest child of Lyle Huseby and Helen McPhail Huseby.

His lifelong love of sports intertwined with a strong work ethic. He earned his Boy Scout Eagle rank at age 13 and traveled to the World Jamboree on the Plains of Marathon, Greece.

He played hockey, baseball, football for the Clara Barton Roadrunners, Agassiz, Fargo Central Midgets, and NDSU Bison. He played baseball for the Fargo Legion team, noteworthy for his strong hits and slow running. And carried that forward to slowpitch softball and The Uncommon Men.

Lincoln met his wife Sandy in creative writing class at NDSU then disappeared from class to fight the flood of 1969 on South River Road. Reunited that fall, their rapport was instant and enduring. While at NDSU, Lincoln hosted the late night Jazz Closet on KDSU Radio.

Lincoln is the father of two children, Dakota (Royce Vollmer), talk radio host in Grand Forks, and Morgan, doctoral candidate at York University, Toronto. His grandson Justice Huseby Vollmer is already learning Grandpa Lincoln’s strong lessons of intellectual curiosity and a moral compass of caring for people from all walks of life.

Lincoln’s entire career was in insurance. He began at the Sons of Norway, then years with American Family Insurance. He and his longtime friend and colleague Duane Hovland formed the independent agency H&H Insurance. When that successful business was acquired by First International Bank, they became vice presidents of the First International Insurance division, overseeing operations around North Dakota and in Minnesota and Arizona.

Lincoln served on the task force which developed Continuing Education standards for insurance agents in North Dakota. He also served on insurance companies’ advisory boards.

While he loved travel ever since his childhood, and Lincoln and Sandy shared time in Italy and Spain, Canada and Mexico, twice to Morocco, his enduring weekend home is his Hubbard County cabin, which became a sanctuary when chronic illnesses tried to slow him down.

He loved hunting and fishing, including trips to the northern waters of Canada with buddies, upland game hunting with his dad and brothers, deer hunting with his father-in-law Clarence, and antelope hunting with Sandy and friends and family. More recently he preferred watching wildlife and contributed to the phenology column in the Park Rapids Enterprise.

Saddled with the twin dragons of chronic leukemia and PAD for over six years, still Lincoln worked right until the day he went into Innovis. He chose to transfer to Mayo’s Methodist Hospital for more advanced care when his leukemia transformed acute.

Lincoln died early Saturday, July 11, 2009 with his family at his side in Rochester. He was preceded in death by his parents, Helen and Lyle Huseby, his grandparents Walter and Vivian Huseby and Alex and Alice McPhail.

He is survived by his wife Sandy, his daughter Dakota and son Morgan, his son-in-law Royce Vollmer and grandson Justice. His sisters Heather (John Dawson) and Robin (Mark Johnson), his brothers Cody and Custer (Lynelle). His mother-in-law, Delores Scheel and brother and sisters-in-law Rod (Jolene), Sue and Lori Scheel. Nieces and nephews Kelsey Dawson; Meredith Larson, Clay and Emily Johnson; Medora, Alexander and Rachel Huseby; and Carson Huseby. Also, Lindsey, Courtney, Jesse and Abby Scheel; Lydia and Matt Stinar. His best man, Mark Schneider, his business partner Duane Hovland, and his First International Insurance family

The Huseby family invite you to celebrate Lincoln’s life and enduring spirit Thursday, July 16, at 2 p.m. at St. John Lutheran, by Lindenwood Park in Fargo. And recommend memorials to: Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, The New Life Center, YWCA Shelter for Women and Children, Great Plains Food Bank, or the human needs charity of your preference.

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Lincoln Lyle Huseby

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February 9, 1948
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July 11, 2009

too soon, too soon.

. . . . . . . . . And the beat of the house goes on,

but the heart is gone. . . . . . . . . . .
— Sandy Huseby

Never Forget....

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Amid all the pomp and fluffery of the changing of administrations post-Election Day and the all-important conversation of whether or not Sarah Palin's underwear will be returned to the RNC, there is a sobering fact this day:

We are adding a fresh wave of soldiers and Navy and Marines and National Guard to those we'll owe a debt we can never repay.

On this first Veterans Day of the Obama Era, a look back at where we have been. And a question still unanswered: How Many More Years?
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Rest in Peace

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Barack Obama's grandmother, Madelyn Dunham, one of the foundations of his life, died early today. Huffington Post has more, including his video tribute.

We simply offer condolences and solace to the Obama and Dunham families that we see in her grandson the excellence of her life's work.
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In Memoriam: Tony Hillerman

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He was as spare and elegant in his storytelling as a sunrise over the high desert of New Mexico where his roots ran deep.

The mystery writer Tony Hillerman died Sunday at 83 due to, well, there's a medical name, but I prefer to think of it as a rich and well-lived life that finally reached the last page.

Hillerman, honored by Mystery Writers of America as a Grand Master, transcended the mystery genre with his stories of Leaphorn and Chee and their Navajo environs.

He was, in the words of New Mexico Governor Bill Richardson this morning on the Imus Show, an accessible guy whom Richardson valued for his dedication to the state. And Imus noted that when he wanted to find an early Hillerman mystery, Imus was able to just pick up the phone and give him a call.

Listening to him weave his stories with his thoughts on the writing process at a writers' conference in Santa Fe some years back, I was struck by how in tandem his verbal and his written "voices" were.

His heroes were ordinary law enforcement, doing yeoman's work. Not razzle-dazzle pyrotechnic hot dogs. Just ordinary Joes who knew their value to their communities. There is honor in that.

Honors were many for Hillerman--military as well as literary for the old veteran. The New Mexico flag will fly at half-staff, said Richardson.

But the greatest honor would be if you would pick up a Hillerman mystery and immerse yourself in the stark beauty of his world. I'll bet your library or bookstore has a bunch of 'em just waiting for you.
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A Moment of Personal Privilege

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R.I.P. Marley
October 10, 1999 - September 29, 2008

Ever faithful and as loyal a friend as we could ask.
Through the joys of every season
and the harshest of life's roads.

Marley-Buddy
mellow of spirit and
the bestest of them all.

In Memoriam: Paul Newman

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News this morning that Paul Newman has died of cancer at age 83.
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Opened a Paul Newman cabernet sauvignon last night and had a maudlin meltdown over the imminent passing of my cocker spaniel, Marley. Life’s little coincidences.

I met Paul Newman in Indiana while campaigning for Gene McCarthy. Yes, those eyes really were that blue. And the twinkle carried through his beautiful work in film, and his charity work, and even his car racing down the road a bit at the Brainerd raceway.

A real star. A real hero. A real man.
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crossposted in comments at firedoglake.

Contemplating Mortality

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We learned this morning of the too-swift passing of comic George Carlin, soon after the abrupt death of Tim Russert. Unexpected, both, though likely predictable, given their health histories.

Deaths happen abruptly every day. And all you who stop by here from time to time readily recognize those names. If not, go google...

Because right now, I'm contemplating mortality in a much more personal way. Friday evening I got one of "those" calls...a dear cousin, now half a continent away, had died from a massive stroke.

We're too young, we baby boomers think. Such does not happen to us. And yet it does...

Before she was a mom and a wife and a grandmom and a watercolorist and all the other things that formed her adult years, Mary Jo was Aunt Irene's little girl, the only girl with four brothers, Sandy's year-younger cousin—our birthdays only hours apart from being the same date. We shared growing-up years in the way cousins do, family gatherings and holidays, but also walking together to the old Fairgrounds, and sitting on her mom's bed to giggle over who was the cuter Beatle, Paul or George. I still say George.

At 59, she was far too young to go.

There are a lot of families who think those thoughts. The statistical 850 a day who die abruptly from heart attacks. The victims of car accidents or urban violence or the violence we have allowed to be inflicted in Iraq based on lies. The flag-draped coffins coming home under cover of darkness—too young to go.

Some say be patient, just wait, there's change coming, as Frank Rich posited about the future, whoever gets elected, this morning on the Imus Show. But there is also the fierce urgency of now.

There are things that can be done now. There are things that must be done in the future. FISA's immunity for telcos must be stopped now. Democracy where people are valued for more than the money in their wallets must be renewed, and I'm one that doesn't think that can happen without truth and full accounting and accountability for these years.

Our legacy, Mary Jo's and mine, was grandparents who immigrated from Germany long enough ago that we qualify as a Dakota Territory pioneer family, my dad fought in WW II as a Marine. The legacy I crave for my grandson, for her grandchildren, is one of honor and wisdom and the restoration of the promise that drew our ancestors to this land.

Mary Jo Yales...cherished and missed by those who knew and love her still. JoY at her heart, and so I will remember her.
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The Company He Keeps

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Judge a man by the company he keeps.

By that marker, Hamilton Jordan lived a life of integrity, intelligence, wit, grace, and good company.

The chief of staff for Jimmy Carter, Jordan was the political strategist who built a Georgia peanut farmer's rise to the highest office in America. Jordan's life was cut too short yesterday when the cancer he endured for 22 years finally claimed him.

In the sturm und drang of political spinning and campaigning and shouting and punditizing, it's easy to get distracted from the basic truths about the people who lead us. Or mis-lead us.

The greatest honor and respect we can pay to the legacy of Hamilton Jordan is to choose wisely now and this fall. Based on information, not fearmongering. Who walks the walk, not just talks the talk.

Hamilton Jordan walked with a giant's step in politics and life, and we honor his legacy...in politics and in public service.