The loss of a treasured pet robs humans of a non-judgmental friend that offers comfort and company. It takes months, if not years to grieve the death of a dog; sometimes people decide the bereavement is too much to endure again.

That’s how my wife and I felt when our beloved Sandy, a Yellow Labrador Retriever that captured our hearts from the first time she became ours in April 2016, died at the end of January 2021. Her absence left a hole in our lives.

We decided that Sandy was irreplaceable. We need only to take care of ourselves. We no longer were responsible for a dog; we were free from the care and feeding of a canine animal.

A friend predicted we would adopt another dog by August. I dismissed his speculation. My wife was determined to be dogless. Her resolve seemed immovable.

Then life intervened. Our youngest daughter adopted a Chocolate Lab from Kuwait. This same daughter urged her mother to lead with her heart, not her mind in considering acquisition of a pet. Subsequently, my wife and I began “what if” conversations, focused mainly on finding a small, pure-bred dog that was at least five or six-years-old. We definitely didn’t want a puppy.

My wife initiated a search in her typically thorough way. She found a breeder in Western Pennsylvania of English Toy Spaniels, which include Prince Charles Spaniels. Our quest for a new family member looked very promising—and imminent.

A turning point happened to us about three weeks ago. We sadly spread Sandy’s ashes in familiar surroundings near our former home in Easton. Perhaps we found closure, a commonly used word these days, but an apt one.

Last Thursday, we met the talkative breeder in a nondescript shopping center parking lot in Morgantown, WVA, not exactly a midpoint for us. Nonetheless, we met Dorian, paid the breeder, received plentiful advice and went home with a pug-nosed dog who loves human laps.

She is still nervous. Her owners are unfamiliar. The apartment smells are different. The elevator is scary. She doesn’t seem to like a leash. The outside terrain is a bit intimidating.

Her anxiety is understandable. Dogs mirror how humans feel in a strange environment. Nervousness can disappear quickly. We are making progress in our relationship. She is beginning to eat, seems utterly content in our laps and has not had an accident in 24 hours.

We took the plunge. I’m glad we did. I think that Dorrie is cute in her inimitable way, unaffected by her lofty royal lineage.

I think our lives already have improved. We can care about each other and still pay sufficient attention and affection to an exceedingly small dog. Our world is more complete.

Politicians like to say about their elective ambitions, “Never say never.” Dog owners are similarly minded; death of a precious pet hurts deeply. Time can ameliorate the grief.

We were emotionally ready to adopt and love another dog, much smaller than Sandy, but equally adept at grabbing our affection, even after only six days.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

On a hot, humid day, I took my grandchildren, 10 and 8, to see the newly unveiled monument in Annapolis to the five journalists killed three years ago in the Capital Gazette newsroom. They were only remotely interested.

The plaque containing the words of the First Amendment establishing freedom of the press struck me as so poignant. The mass murder by a vengeful gunman angry about the Gazette’s coverage of a harassment charge represented to this former newspaper editor a blatant attack on freedom of journalistic expression.

Ironically, the gunman is pleading insanity for his well-planned fatal attack on people shot simply because they were journalists. Their only crime was their occupation. The gunman wanted to make a point.

And so he did, terrifyingly methodically.

When he claimed the vibrant lives of five defenseless victims, he was telling the world in unmistakable terms that he hated media representatives for doing their jobs. That he committed a previous crime worthy of mention in the Capital Gazette was, in his twisted mind, an unforgivable offense.

Revenge was his only outlet.

Now the shooter, Jarrod Ramos, 41, is using the legal option of claiming insanity as his defense. Forget that he planned the attack on June 28, 2018, even to the extent of barricading the back door to block newsroom employees from leaving. When the police came, he hid behind a desk.

He knew what he was doing. The jury will decide.

The legal machinations are beyond the scope of this column. The shooter will get his day in court. As he should, like any other despicable criminal.

Journalists also have become victims of overzealous police. What worries me more is the targeting of reporters by such people as the grievance-charged rioters on Jan. 6, 2021, when democracy, as represented by the majestic U.S. Capitol, was under siege. A New York Times reporter found herself barraged by threats and insults.

The press is not perfect. Its practitioners would concede that. However, its intentions are mostly pure: report the news, inform the public and be honest—and impose an unforgiving spotlight on government and corporate corruption.

I omitted another necessary standard: be fair, regardless of your personal beliefs and deadline pressures.

I have no regrets about exposing my grandchildren to ugliness in their community. Their mother knew one of the victims, as did many people in Annapolis. She was the community reporter who loved to cover events small and big. She was beloved, an adjective not normally applied to a media person.

Founded as the Evening Capital in 1884, the Capital Gazette, known better simply as the Capital, became something else on June 28, 2018. It became a rallying point for the community. It became a treasured asset, to be preserved and supported despite the constant threat of dismantling by owners coping with increasingly diminished advertising and readership.

And now, Alden Global Capital, a hedge fund known for its ruthless cost-cutting and undermanned newsrooms, will be controlling the fate of the Capital, as well as the Baltimore Sun. Civic engagement, spurred by a healthy newspaper, will diminish, sadly so.

Jarrod Ramos attacked the First Amendment and a community institution. While he needlessly snuffed out lives, he awakened a community to the glue that kept it together.

Unfortunately, economic conditions may close the newsroom, not an angry shooter intent on revenge.

Such an outcome would be a terrible jolt to a community still reckoning three years later with a mass murder of five journalists.

A paperless city of 60,000 residents, containing the state capital, the U.S. Naval Academy and 372 years of history since its founding in 1649, would lack an anchor of civic engagement.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

When I read that Donald Rumsfeld died on June 29 at age 88 in Taos, N.M., I had mixed feelings about a complex man who had a home in St. Michaels and rode high during many years spent in the top echelons of government in the nation’s Capital.

During his career holding top jobs in Republican administrations over a period of 50 years, he employed a relentless work ethic, great intellect, driving ambition and a combative personality in serving as a member of Congress, a chief of staff to a president and twice as the Secretary of Defense. His achievements coincided with a personal style that earned him enemies, including members of Congress.

What intrigued me too was his bitter attitude toward an Ivy League education, aimed particularly at those whom he considered entitled and elitist. Ironically, he was a graduate of Princeton University, which he attended on an ROTC scholarship, and where he was on the wrestling team.

When he and his wife Joyce moved to St. Michaels, they mixed and mingled with many people, impressing them with their down-to earth manner. He left his reputed irascibility elsewhere.

Extremely successful in government and the corporate world, he sought results and considered the status quo an impediment that must be overcome. He confronted bureaucratic inertia with a vengeance.

Spending six years as Secretary of Defense under President George W. Bush, he left government service in late 2006 for the final time amid a barrage of unstinted criticism over his leadership during the Iraqi war and its aftermath. He came across as arrogant and dogmatic, perceived as failing to respond aggressively and strategically to the insurgencies that materialized after the toppling of Saddam Hussein. 

He opposed a troop surge that many thought, rightly so, would stanch the mounting number of American deaths.

A lighting rod for unceasing criticism, Rumsfeld remained loyal to President Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney, shouldering public condemnation without sharing the blame with his bosses. As he well knew, Washington can be an awfully cruel place to serve as a public servant.

In the years leading up to his exit, he uttered unfortunate comments that seemed to discount the growing crescendo of complaints, publicly appearing dismissive of military deficiencies such as unhardened Humvees frequently destroyed by improvised explosive devices (IEDs). His acerbic manner created a host of detractors, to his detriment and eventual dismissal by President Bush.

Viewed as a whole body of work, Rumsfeld’s career was truly outstanding, marked by continually elevated positions of responsibility. He never shied away from difficult missions, such as overseeing the Department of Defense after the Sept. 11, 2001, attack on America by Al Qaeda. When the Pentagon was struck by one of the four hijacked aircraft, he helped evacuate DoD personnel to waiting ambulances.

Our government leaders are flawed, as is true of low and determined human beings, as it is of the high and mighty. Donald Rumsfeld responded magnificently, albeit imperfectly, during his demanding career at the epicenter of our federal government.

His judgment in owning a home in the Eastern Shore was impeccable. Many recall him fondly.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

 

Mitch McConnell, U.S. Senate Republican Minority Leader, has always fascinated me as a master tactician and manipulator who can and does stop Democratic initiatives behind a façade of stoic, confident resolve.

Now, while still impressed with his legislative magic and taciturn manner, I am disgusted with his not-so-subtle assault on democracy and any scintilla of bipartisanship. Determined to thwart former President Barack Obama at every turn, he has announced he will do the same with his longtime friend, President Joe Biden.

McConnell has one goal: deter the Senate from granting the Democrats any victories that might serve them advantageously in an election. Though the Democrats control the Senate by one—that being a tie-breaking one by Vice President Kamala Harris—McConnell can stop any legislation that requires a filibuster total of 60 votes.

An action that apparently gives him great satisfaction was his successful obstruction of Obama’s selection of Merrick Garland to the Supreme Court. Garland did not even receive the courtesy of a Senate Judiciary hearing. Consequently, the empty seat on the court, formerly occupied by the late Antonin Scalia, was filled by President Donald Trump with the nomination of the conservative Neil Gorsuch as an associate justice.

The senior senator from Kentucky accomplished what he wanted: prevent a Democratic president from nominating a liberal or moderate Democrat to the nation’s highest court. 

McConnell harbors a longtime obsession with the nation’s justice system, delaying Democratic nominations and expediting Republican ones. His view of democracy is one-sided; he’s proud of his obstruction. It seems a questionable achievement, if not one steeped in a mean-spirited attempt to hijack the democratic process.

Most recently, he blocked consideration of a bill to establish a commission to examine and investigate the heinous January 6, 2021 assault on the U.S. Capitol by a group of people incited by Trump and his errant claims of fraud in his losing bid to serve another term as president. In his rigidly partisan perspective, McConnell thought that the commission—with membership evenly divided between Democrats and Republicans—was conceived to shine an unfavorable light on Republicans.

Intent on ensuring the defeat by the Senate of the second attempt to impeach Trump, wrongly reasoning that Trump could not be impeached after leaving office, he then uttered scathing remarks about the former president’s behavior in encouraging an unruly mob to attack our nation’s citadel of democracy. The clever and adroit McConnell executed a win-win for him and the Republican Party: a reprehensible president whom the minority leader dislikes was acquitted, and his loyal, misguided supporters were pleased with the acquittal of their beloved and amoral leader.

As I wrote at the outset, McConnell is shrewd, stolid and focused. Negative opinions are immaterial to him.

I do wonder if Mitch McConnell, cynical and hardened after 34 years in elected office, ever considers the general good in his mental calculus, or does he simply and coldly calculate the impact on ensuring that the Democrats look ineffective in passing legislation and thus enhance the elective chances of Republicans in Congress?

Has he been in Washington too long and shed any shred of idealism?

The McConnells of the world seem to embody the worst in national politics, exhibiting no pretense of wanting to work in a bipartisan manner. And, by his measure, he has been wildly successful in claiming the mantle of chief obstructionist in a legislative body once known for comity and compromise.

The very recent defeat in the U.S. Senate of the voting rights bill, one to counter voter suppression blessed by Republican state legislatures, illustrates Mitch McConnell’s power and muscle.

Two words come to mind: sad and unproductive.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

 

It’s dangerous to write about religion, but here I go.

The tentative decision by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops to place restrictions on the sacred offering of communion to President Joe Biden for his pro-life views on abortion strikes me as patently stupid. It politicizes a religious ritual that exists to provide parishioners of the Roman Catholic and Episcopal faiths an inviolate connection to Jesus.

Some years ago, the Archbishop of the Catholic Diocese of Maryland pointedly criticized then-Maryland Governor Martin O’Malley, a longtime Catholic, for his views on abortion. If I recall correctly, the archbishop suggested that parishioners consider whether to vote for O’Malley. I was horrified at the archbishop’s audacious political intervention.

As former Governor Robert Ehrlich was wont to say, “Give me a break.” Said out of frustration, this sentiment echoes my attitude toward unseemly interference in politics. The Catholic Church should concern itself with its shrinking attendance and its views toward married and female priests.

It demeans itself when it feels compelled to punish a public official who dares to support a policy antithetical to church beliefs. It is hubris.

I admit that I have a somewhat jaded perspective. Having attended three Catholic weddings in our family, I chafe at the often-unwelcomed attitude by priests toward the taking of communion by Christians who are not Catholics. It’s a shameful shunning by the Catholic Church, a practice that my wife and I often ignore.

The proposed doctrine to block the Eucharist from politicians like Biden who have pro-life views flies into the inclusive nature of Jesus Christ’s ministry and words. He welcomed everyone, including sinners of all degrees of flawed behavior.

Far from being a student of the powerful Catholic Church, I have always frowned upon its forbidden and foreboding nature, its withholding of the sacrament to those it deems unworthy, its pronouncements about the human condition, such as the marriage of gay couples.

The Catholic Church said little or nothing about the morals and behavior of President Trump. Is the church’s moral compass tied only to abortion, a subject that consumes much too much space in public discourse? I would like to hear the Catholic discuss economic inequality, health care, racism, civility and environmental degradation.

Rather than spending 3-1/2 hours on drafting a document for debate in the fall to determine who should, and who shouldn’t be invited to the altar rail, the Catholic Church should focus on unifying our fractious nation, not further dividing it by arbitrary decisions about the recipients of the Eucharist.

Are Jesus’ teachings simply paid lip service? Is the Catholic Church now measuring and evaluating sin and determining that a political position on abortion or gay marriage or the death penalty warrants exclusion from the holiest act of obedience?

Again, give me a break and smell the sweet odor of change. Perhaps the bishops should seek counsel from Pope Francis, who espouses a far more inclusive Catholic Church than the small-minded majority of U.S. bishops.

Were I an unlikely member of the Catholic Church’s hierarchy, I would urge my colleagues to take a collective breath and confirm the obvious: Joe Biden is a decent, church-going person who is proud of his Catholic faith and openly displays his devotion to his religion.

Praise, not debar him.

His political positions are just that. They are divorced from the church, unrelated to the invitation to every Catholic to enjoy the Eucharistic and its explicit belief in Jesus Christ and his open-arm embrace of all people regardless of their sins.

No exception.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

It waves in the wind. Politicians embrace it. It marks veterans’ graves. It covers caskets. It draws derision and abuse from enemies.

It is often found on men and women’s lapels. It can be seen on shorts, ties and shorts. It is unmistakable.

It also represents free speech, particularly when some Americans, angry about war or U. S. policies, decide to burn or stomp on it. Or people in foreign countries do the same to exemplify their hatred of our nation.

It never changes its colors or stripes. It waves in the wind but does not change according to whim or wretched behavior.

Of course, I am talking about Old Glory, our American flag and symbol of freedom and liberty. Today is Flag Day, established June 14, 1877, the 100th anniversary of the adoption of the Stars and Stripes by the Continental Congress. June 14 is always the date, often ignored or even unknown by most.

I do not suggest that Flag Day become a national holiday marked by closed schools and banks. That would be foolhardy.

I do suggest, however, we pay reverence to a piece of cloth, often subject to bad weather, bad temper and poor care. It is a textile product that withstands constantly changing styles and lifestyles. It need not change. It is an irreplaceable brand.

Though I honor the First Amendment and understand the desecration of our banner as free speech, I cringe with disdain when I watch news reports about hoodlums setting fire to our flag. I take personal offense. I view it as an inexcusable act of violence. I feel nauseated.

I feel equally repelled when I see a Confederate Flag flying from the back of a pick-up truck. It represents disunity and discrimination. It disgusts me.

I am no better a patriot than the next person. I do not pretend to be the savior of the flame. Maybe naively, I assign a sacred value to our beautiful flag. I feel ownership of our national standard and the strongly debated values of diversity, hope, steadfastness and opportunity.

When I attend a graveside burial of a veteran, I watch intently when servicepersons fold the flag so precisely and faithfully and then give it to the widow or widower or mother. I never tire of watching this ritual, trying hard to control my emotions.

Why is it so important to conduct this artful slice of drama? Because the exquisitely folded flag represents gratitude for military service, a gesture that remains solemn and sincere.

Our American flag bears no cynicism or divisiveness. It appeals to the best of us, if only briefly, to protect our values and honor our forebears. It reminds us we can rise above hatred and bigotry if we so choose.

This piece of cloth has no designer label. In its bright, colorful way, it speaks to consistency of purpose and unity, though hard to achieve, but obligatory to strive to accomplish.

Our flag flies proudly through natural and political storms and turmoil. It takes no partisan sides. It embodies unity, a rare commodity.

God Bless America.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

 

 

Today is the 77th anniversary of an incredible amphibious invasion by Allied forces of the Normandy, France beaches that shattered the invincibility of the Third Reich, ruthlessly led by Adolph Hitler, and led to eventual victory in Europe.

D-Day, June 6, 1944, is a permanent chapter in any book about World War II and the cause of freedom waged against despotism and fascism. It was a bold action that changed the direction of a vicious war.

D-Day marks a time when Americans felt optimistic, proud and confident. Anything seemed possible when prospects for a triumph against acolytes of ethnic destruction were awfully bleak at times.

We urgently need other D-Days, now more than ever. We crave a coalition of diverse groups willing to pull together to attack overwhelmingly difficult and complicated challenges. We have scant time to occupy hardened concrete positions and refuse to tackle what ails us.

We have many internal battles to fight. Many have festered for hundreds of years. Years and years of neglect and denial have created what some would characterize as intractable problems. Optimism is discounted.

Hope is still alive.

When American troops stormed the Normandy beaches, particularly Bloody Omaha Beach (Vierville-sur-Mer), they faced an enemy with the distinct tactical advantage of cliff-high battlements. Though aided by the element of surprise, our soldiers faced withering and deadly firepower from the bluffs overlooking what had been a serene swatch of beach.

Our troops—many shocked by the unrelenting fire rained down on them—struggled to capture the beach, climb the bluffs and overcome a stubborn enemy. And so they did, surrounded by dead and maimed buddies.

In the spirit of D-Day, we can declare that we will end racism; moderate economic inequality; elevate our better angels over rampant hatred; end political polarization; combat right-wing extremism anti-Semitism and anti-Asianism; dilute voter suppression and stanch disabling global warming.

We must do all of this with a sense of urgency that is sorely lacking in our “Ununited States.”

We could start with mandatory national service to spread the gospel of service greater than self, to create a structure that brings men and women from all the “castes” into projects that benefit our nation and focus on merit, not entitlement.

We can place a national priority on listening and empathy. Sound like a goody-two-shoes proposal that invites ridicule and cynicism? Probably, but necessary.

But what characterizes our country now more than anything else but rancor toward, and distrust of each other and our institutions? We disparage government, the church, higher education, the police and the justice system.

President Dwight D. Eisenhower, formerly the Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces that assaulted the Normandy coast, said:

“The world of ours…must avoid becoming a community of dreadful hate and distrust, but be, instead, a proud confederation of mutual trust and respect.”

Unfortunately, cynicism has become our national pastime.

Some ill-informed people have questioned our voting system in the face of little or no evidence of fraud. They are encouraged by our unhinged ex-president. Many of the irresponsible distrusters attacked the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6 at the urging of the raging president.

Do we simply surrender to the forces of division and dissonance?

Do we accept that we cannot overcome the weapons of divisiveness and disdain sowed to achieve power and elected office?

Do we give up and accept the end of American exceptionalism and heightened sense of morality and decency?

Or do we muster our best selves and applaud selflessness—instead of paying homage to those who care little about our fragile democracy—and commend harmony and unity?

If we view the “D” as meaning “deadline” and set deliberately strict dates of completion, then maybe we can save ourselves short of another disastrous civil war. We could reverse course and seek to re-establish a country that is respected, not resented in our turbulent world.

Nazi Germany wreaked havoc for 12 years. Its despicable concentration camps subjected humanity to murder and degradation. It had to be defeated. Our nation and allies united to do just that.

We have a crisis of credibility. We are content with a raging stock market and a sickly human condition. While Covid has subsided, helplessness in our population has increased.

We should celebrate D-Day with awe and gratitude. We vanquished evil such as the world had never witnessed. We saved freedom and democracy. We used our military and moral power to restore sanity to the Western World.

We must defeat the enemy. Our opponent is ourselves.

We must see a person with brown or black skin and see nothing different. We must see people in medical service jobs and pay them more as a sign of their importance to us during Covid and domestic crises. We must see teachers struggling against low pay and classes too large and pay and praise them more.

We must see the increased severity of weather events and decide we are going to use renewable energy and reduce stifling carbon emission.

We must act now. We face horrible consequences if we do nothing.

D-Days need not be military operations. They can be applicable to problems that affect our daily lives. They can propel us to the greatness that we once treasured.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

 

Somehow, heading to Rehoboth Beach, DE eight days ago felt like a reprieve from an ultra-minimum security prison in which the only crime you committed was becoming old and a bit decrepit.

You miss a neighborhood where the residents’ age range is diverse.

When you get a chance to flee to the ocean to a home, which though a rental, feels like your own after 40 years of family use, you rapidly relax and set upon creating new memories. With a slower gait and willingness to accept help, you quickly realize that suddenly you are the titular head of the family clan—without exhibiting any special qualifications.

I have written before about the delight of spending time in Rehoboth. My grandchildren are now the fourth generation to enjoy a house built in 1929 by a Wilmington, Del. lumber dealer. His granddaughter, a University of Delaware professor, manages the property.

About a mile away as the crow flies is President Joe Biden’s beach house. It matters not to me. Mr. Biden and his wife Jill share our judgment that Rehoboth is wonderful place to unwind and eat Grotto pizza and Thrasher’s fries.

Reading a good book is a typical part of vacation, occupying time and mind. Many prefer fiction, generally captivating but not too mentally challenging. I chose a different direction, painfully completing the much-acclaimed “Caste,” The Origins of Our Discontents,” by Isabel Wilkerson.

Well-written and researched, it requires all white readers to confront their bias,either outright or unconscious, toward African-Americans. It compels readers to understand and accept the continued ravages of slavery in a country undergirded by blatant as well as subtle bigotry.

It does something else: it explains how the German masterminds behind the Holocaust studied the American tenets behind the destructive and dehumanizing institution of slavery to design their 12-year regime of inexcusable human destruction.

It is disturbing. It is distressing.

My vacation reading was anything but soothing. However, it was satisfying in a revelatory way.

Every time I turned a page, I faced a figurative mirror that forced me to confront my actions and inactions during nearly 76 years of life in a country controlled by rigid rules, many unspoken, that benefited those on the top rung or dominant caste—and inhumanely and unequally treated those born with black skin and automatic exclusion from privilege accorded those with white skin.

Personal character and talent were meaningless and disregarded. Your life and lifestyle were dictated by your lowest caste; your life span was perilous if you deliberately or inadvertently broke rules that irritated and maybe threatened the dominant caste.

If you spoke up or acted like any normal human being exposed to constant abuse and ridicule, you could die at the hands of cruel, merciless people. Your only transgression was your black skin and assumed inferiority.

I read this book with alarm and anger. I cringed at the repeated comparisons to the Nazi treatment of Jews. I wondered, as noted, if I have ever acted in a bigoted, dehumanizing way to African Americans. I hope not.

Isabel Wilkerson’s book offered me no escape from my introspection. I either could stop reading an emotionally difficult book, or face the demons of prejudice and the corrosive behavior of so many White Americans programmed to hate and exclude.

My vacation was exceedingly pleasant. It also was disturbingly revealing.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

No sooner did the 2021 General Assembly adjourn in early April than the political floodgates opened with a rush as Republican candidates for governor and comptroller declared their intentions.

First, Lt. Governor Boyd Rutherford announced he would not run for governor. Then, Secretary of Commerce Kelly Schulz said she would like to succeed Gov. Larry Hogan. The rumor really began to churn with the news that former Lt. Gov. Michael Steele, now a television pundit unafraid to bash former President Donald Trump, was considering a run for governor.

After considering a race either for governor or the 1st Congressional District now occupied by the controversial Andy Harris, Harford County Executive Barry Glassman threw his hat in the ring for comptroller.

The Republican Party, buoyed by Hogan’s success and popularity in a distinctly blue state, is staking its claim for top-tier offices in Annapolis. Except for congressional seats in the U.S. Senate and the House of Representatives, the GOP is alive and well in Maryland and offering strong candidates.

The politician who fascinates me the most is Mike Steele, whom I got to know during the four years of the Ehrlich Administration. He is bright, personable and charismatic. He has an unmistakable presence. Because of his unabashed comments about Trump and his political followers in Washington, he is considered a traitor to the party.

Keep in mind the Trumpian influence on the ouster of Rep. Liz Cheney from the top echelon of House Republican leadership, and you can easily understand the antipathy toward a person like Steele. He sees a less inclusive and more extreme party and says as much on national TV.

A former state delegate and loyal member of the Hogan cabinet, Schulz is well liked among her fellow Republicans. Though Steele’s potential entry into the Republican gubernatorial primary might seem to doom Schulz’s prospects, those who condemn his criticism of the national Republican Party and consequently consider him a pariah very well may torpedo his elective chances in favor of a candidate viewed as a more reliable loyalist.

Steele would provide a real spark of excitement. As noted, he has an electric personality and polished communication skills. He lost in 2006 to Democrat Ben Cardin in a U.S. Senate race. His stint as RNC chair lasted only one term despite his role in a successful 2010 congressional cycle.

A former state senator, Glassman is a savvy and likable person from a populous and conservative county. He has run a suburban county that must deal with fiscal and growth issues, environmental concerns and a slew of other pressing issues.

Meanwhile, I would hope that Del. Johnny Mautz and Secretary of Natural Resources Jeannie Haddaway-Riccio, Talbot County residents, would consider higher office, such as the 1st Congressional District seat occupied by the increasingly erratic Andy Harris. Mautz and Haddaway-Riccio are hard-working servant- leaders. They are accessible and competent.

As the district is now configured, winning requires political connections to Harford and Baltimore counties—and votes. If redistricted, perhaps including Annapolis, the 1st might again be more oriented to the Eastern Shore.

Though some disagree, I believe in a two-party system despite its current polarization. Were congressional districts more balanced nationwide, the polarization would be much less severe, requiring legislators to listen to. and accommodate constituents belonging to both parties.

This column in no way is handicapping the 2021 election season in the Old Line State. Instead, it is describing a vibrant Republican Party in a blue state.

My experience, far from empirical, is that Marylanders typically tend toward supporting genuinely personable and accessible candidates. That calculus can sometimes confound the pollsters.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

No better sign of the Talbot County Council’s ineptitude strikes a discordant chord more than the lawsuit filed two weeks ago by the NAACP and the ACLU to remove the Talbot Boys Monument from the public space in front of the county courthouse.

The lawsuit is a direct result of lack of responsiveness and responsibility on the part of the county council. It voted more than a year-and-a-half ago to retain the offensive Confederate monuments. It has done nothing to assuage public opinion, beyond pleasing those determined to keep the monument as is, a statement of white supremacy in the minds of those advocating its removal.

That the monument is the only one representing the Confederacy on public space in Maryland seemingly is a badge of honor to Councilpersons Chuck Callahan, Frank Divilio and Laura Price. Embarrassment is not a factor. Standing your ground amid a public uproar seems preferable to removal of a symbol of Confederate opposition to a united country and an end to slavery. 

Lawsuits typically happen when civil discourse ceases. Compromise is no longer achievable. A courtroom or judge’s office becomes the only venue for a legal settlement. A failure to resolve differences produces a litigious outcome, expensive in time, cost and emotion.

I again listened, painfully so, to council proceedings on October 27, 2020 when the council voted 3-2 against a request by Richard Potter, president of the local NAACP, and other community leaders, to meet with the county’s five elected leaders. Both Corey Pack, then the council president, and Councilperson Pete Lesher voted in favor of granting the request. Had I not already known the result of the frequently acrimonious discussion, I would have recoiled from the cowardly stance expressed by Callahan, Divilio and Price.

The three councilpersons adamantly argued against a public hearing for fear of emotional and possibly inflammatory comments voiced by proponents of moving the Talbot Boys Monument. Each one questioned the efficacy of a public hearing, preferring to meet individually with those favoring removal of the monument. Callahan advocated for the question to be submitted to the voters in 2022, ignoring his previous comments during his political service asserting that he and others are elected to take stands on difficult issues, not hide behind a ballot question, to do their jobs.

I found the position taken by the threesome oddly ironic. A public hearing that might become rancorous should be avoided in favor of private conversations, so their reasoning seemed to illustrate. Few people like contention. That I understand. 

What puzzles me was a 3-2 decision to pursue non-public conversations, forsaking the role of officials elected to conduct business in front of their constituents.

Pack and Lesher promoted a public hearing to no avail. The latter opined that acceding to the request for a meeting would “restore a spirit of civility and mutual respect.” Pack apologized for his 2015 vote opposing removal of the highly controversial Confederate monument, saying he was “ashamed” of his role. He agreed with Lesher about the potentially harmful effect on tourism and the hospitality business. The two councilpersons bemoaned a statue that exudes an aura of a non-welcoming county that eschews equity and justice.

It is no wonder that the Talbot County Council is the subject of an avoidable lawsuit. A majority of the five-person council voted against public dialogue. It voted against trying to reach common ground with passionate civic leaders intent on moving the Talbot Boys Monument.

It was a mistake.

By refusing to meet with those favoring removal of a hostile symbol entrenched on public ground, Callahan, Divilio and Price exhibited blatant disrespect for the views expressed by residents who disagreed with them. 

The threesome closed the door to public dialogue. The decision was regrettable.

As I listened, I sensed an unproductive defensiveness on the part of the three deniers of a legitimate request. They seemed to resent being placed in a position to decide whether to exercise their responsibilities to meet in what might have been a confrontational meeting.

If you read the comments of congressional members nationwide who hold town meetings, you realize that these events can be raucous and discordant. You also learn that the congressional representatives understand that disagreement expressed publicly comes with democratic government.

The lawsuit will now consume time and money. It will prove embarrassing to Talbot County, placing its flawed thinking in the national spotlight. It will diminish its reputation as a desirable place to live, work and play.

Communication can be fraught and fractious. It also can be helpful in calming turmoil and dissension.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.