A Thoroughly Decent Man

It was a memorial service in a gymnasium. It began oddly.

After a Native American prayer, a series of politicians
read Biblical passages. They sounded like preachers.
The people inside the basketball arena sounded like
basketball fans, cheering something. It was unusual.

After a bit, it became evident that Tucsonans, and Arizonans,
had shown up in numbers double what the gym would hold--
half of them sat in the football stadium, watching a screen--
not simply to show their respect, and to mourn, but because
they were shaken by what had happened in their city and state.
They needed to hear that there was human decency.
They cheered at the affirmation of their own decency, badly shaken.

Then Barack Obama spoke, and what had been an earnest,
but lame, attempt to capture the moment and its needs
became a chance to look deep into ourselves.

He told the story. He told who they were who had been killed
and wounded. He told who they were who had come to
meet Gabrielle Giffords; of her decency, and of theirs.
He spoke of courage, and hope, and change, and resolve:
of human decency. He might not have known that there
would be cheers from the wounded citizens in the arena,
but he captured what it was they needed, and said it.

Our President was honest, and civil, and magnificent!
He is a thoroughly decent man, and we are a lucky people.

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