When I woke up this morning, the phone was ringing. My wife caught the call. I'm glad she did. Years of training combined with a healthy dose of compassion and empathy have prepared her to deliver and accept the worst news anyone ever hears. That doesn't mean it's easy.
"Oh my God," she said in that tone of voice that instantly snaps you up, out of bed and wide awake because you know the world is going to be different after that phone call. It was our neighbor. Let's call him Harry. Harry was calling -- from the intensive care unit. His wife of over 50 years had suffered a massive stroke.
Harry's not a man of many words. "It's touch and go," he said. My wife offered to join him. He explained that wasn't necessary. The doctor's were doing everything they could. One child was by his side, the other was already in the air. She asked him how we could help. He said, "Pray for us."
Let me tell you about Harry and his wife. If you have kids, chances are you have made arrangements with a neighbor along the way in case you weren't home and the kids needed to get in or have a holding place. Maybe the school bus came early. Maybe you were running late. Maybe they lost their keys. Maybe they were out in the park while you were running errands and someone got hurt. In any case, Harry's got the keys to our house. In fact, Harry and his wife have the keys to EVERYONE'S house on the street.
That's the kind of people they are. When everything fails, they're the folks you know you can count on for backup. They are what you would call "pillars of the community." They are original homeowners. That means they bought one of the first homes built in this section of town. The neighborhood grew up around them. We're talking solid, reliable, hard working, decent people. The kind of people you trust with the safety of your family if all hell breaks loose.
Harry and his wife are dyed in the wool conservative Republicans. FOX News listening, Washington Times reading, Guideposts subscribing, Southern Baptists from well-heeled families who freely admit their ancestors were slave holders.
In spite of our polar opposite positions on politics, race, and a host of other things ... we're neighbors. We look out for each other. I trust them with the safety of my children. And when he is looking into the abyss, we're one of the families he calls for support.
If you think Beck, Limbaugh, Coulter, or Ayn Rand are making sense... that may seem odd to you. But it shouldn't surprise you, even if you were raised by wolves. That's what neighbors do. That's the mistake these hatemongers make. They don't just preach hate. They also preach a gospel of independence that is as mythical as Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.
Going Galt? Really? Who you gonna call when you are on that island and the water runs out?
We have you surrounded? Really? Who's got your back when all hell breaks loose and you can't call home?
The reality that built this nation is that we are not a group of individuals doing our own thing and building empires with our bare hands. We are a highly interdependent nation of diverse people from different walks of life. We rely on each other constantly.
Now I know I mock Republican politicians, policies and spokesmen all the time. But I also know there is a fundamental truth to what Obama is saying when he calls for a new dialogue. A less bitter, less harsh, more forgiving, more accepting, co-operative way of doing business so we really can work together. As someone who worked as a neighborhood organizer he knows that's what neighbors do. He knows that neighbors will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no neighbors. He knows that Going Galt is suicide.
We know it too. The planes that hit the WTC didn't check for party affiliation before wiping out thousands of lives. The people who worked the pile until their boots melted didn't ask volunteers for loyalty oaths. Katrina didn't check your voting records before washing away your livelihood. The guys who plucked people off rooftops in the aftermath didn't check to see if you were here legally.
The heroes on those days were the men and women who reached out and pulled their neighbors to safety. Like the Home Depot store manager in New York who kept his store open and waited for the men he knew would come. When they finally arrived, he outfitted them with the best equipment he had and refused to take a dime in payment. Like the Mayor of Houston, who turned over the Convention Center to house the homeless fleeing New Orleans. When a reporter asked if he was concerned about potential lawsuits from displaced associations that had booked the Center, he dared them to sue saying, "I want to see them defend that position in open court." Like a good neighbor, those guys were there when people needed them.
So what if my neighbor sees my "War Is Not The Answer" yard sign and puts out an American flag? So what if my neighbor sees my Obama sign in the window and puts out a McCain yard sign? If he looks into the abyss and reaches out to me -- I will gladly give a hand. That's what neighbors do. Because in the final analysis, when the bottom falls out and you look around for help, it's going to be your neighbors that pull you through.