As many of you may know, I’m writing my memoir. My intention is to publish that book in time for my 45th birthday next year. I feel a deep and philosophical calling to share my story of resilience and transformation in the face of circumstances that would terrify mere mortal men.
I am currently composing a chapter speaking about the influence of my single greatest hero — my maternal grandfather Melborn Ivey. The mere reason why I’m a writer today was because of a race of alien monkeys and a peanut field.
As I’m at work on Wednesday afternoon, following what was going on in DC on social media, and I couldn’t help but wonder, “What would be going through Granddaddy’s mind right now?”
I make no secret of the fact that my Granddaddy is my greatest hero. But he was a literal hero.
After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, he enlisted in the Army. He did so at the relatively advanced age of 24. And while he was fighting in the South Pacific, he took a Japanese bullet in the left bicep for his trouble.
He got wounded fighting fascism.
Make no mistake, I believe at his heart my Granddaddy was a rather conservative guy. He was a church-going man who came to his greatest power during the Jim Crow Deep South.
But one of his best friends was an uneducated black man.
Yesterday was like nothing none of us have ever seen. But the most depressing, tragic, and saddest thing about all of it is that it doesn’t surprise me.
I will write this essay without using the man’s name nor his job title. But make no mistake, this is about him and about what his words incited on Wednesday.
The things that unite us are far greater than the things which divide us.
We believe in different interpretations of God or a Higher Power.
We believe in different political ideologies.
We look different.
We speak differently.
We love differently.
We even support different college football teams.
But we are ALL the same!
If Granddaddy was watching cable news on Wednesday, I guarantee that he’d be horrified.
Think about it. If the bullet that hit him strayed six inches to the right, not only would he have not come home, he would’ve never gotten married. If he never got married, he wouldn’t have fathered three children, one of whom became my mother. If my mother had never been born, I WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN BORN…you know, to the skin suit that I currently occupy.
The man damn near gave his life fighting exactly what went down in DC on Wednesday!
The things which unite us are far greater than the things which divide us. Love will always win!
Wednesday in DC was one of the most horrifying things I have ever seen.
I’m scared. We watched a siege on the seat of the American Government.
IN HIGH DEFINITION!
I want to say that we’re better than this…but I’m not sure we are.
President Reagan was fond of the “city upon a hill” metaphor that Jesus spoke about during his Sermon on the Mount. And I truly believe that American can regain her status as that beacon of hope.
The beacon that my Grandfather was wounded defending.
The beacon that great men and women have devoted their lives to defend.
The beacon that those rioters tried to darken yesterday.
The United States is an experiment. An experiment in courage, hope, fortitude, and purpose. And I believe we can be that again.
But it’s going to take all of us. Every single one of us, to come together as one.
We all have to be the warriors for the light.
We’re all one. And yesterday was one of the darkest things I have ever seen.
