CELEBRATION DAY
Gratefully embracing the calm following the storm: A hopeful metaphor for America
Hello, good people.
Twelve weeks ago to the day, my immediate family, which currently consists of a patient wife and an anxious cat, exited Wisconsin for good in the middle of a March blizzard and aimed for the blue skies of North Carolina.
But Friday officially marked the end of our 1,300-mile journey eastward.
Our beloved home in Madison is now owned by another family, and if their karma is near as good as I think it is, they will be surrounded by warmth in that happy place on the frozen tundra.
As we finally put a snazzy bow on what has been an arduous move, I am reminded of what a relieved George Washington said after an eager John Adams was sworn in as our second president: “Well, Mr. Adams, I am fairly out, and you are fairly in.”
I’ve moved more than 25 times during my wonderful, eventful life, but this one simply has to be the last. As I have gotten grayer, and grunt reflexively when I sit down in a comfortable chair, the idea of stretching out and staying in one place has become a steady friend with some genuine appeal.
I met and married my wife 17 years ago while we were beating the beat as journalists in Europe. Two years later, work took us to Madison. I was an East Coast guy, and my wife a West Coast gal, so being stuffed in the middle of the country was a new experience for both of us.
We made the most of it, dug into the arts, and the raging political scene in that battleground state, and in no time at all were comfortable as could be in the Upper Midwest — “oh, you-betcha we were ...”
But the tug of the ocean constantly nagged at us, and years ago we started formulating a plan to get from there to here …
On Friday, our hard-fought mission was accomplished.
It didn’t go quite as planned, but things seldom do. We are both tired, but stronger for the journey.
Mostly, we’re grateful as hell.
We can finally look forward to what’s coming next, instead of helplessly looking back, and hoping all the doors are finally closed once and for all on our time in Wisconsin, and the wonderful house that didn’t want us to go.
I have been considering that maybe our bumpy journey is a modest metaphor for our roiling country these days. Has anything in the United States gone as we might have planned it since 2015?
Our move from the calm and steady leadership of President Barack Obama was never supposed to lead to the mayhem, corruption and out and out treason of the despicable Donald Trump and his filthy, racist henchmen.
The good and righteous people of this country have been dealing with a lot of heartache and grief they never asked for. We have been knocked down, and gotten back up more times than the America-attacking Trump has won and lost his idiotic war in Iran.
I hear people say they just want things to return to normal, but I have no idea what normal is, and suspect it is in the eye of the beholder.
Is it 1852 when soulless white men ran everything and owned human beings? By their odious actions and words, Republicans seem to think it is.
Is it 1964 and the passage of landmark legislation aimed at protecting human beings and their unassailable rights? Maybe, but I grew up in the ‘60s and I’m not really much interested in going back to the wars, riots, and assassinations of that volatile decade. The music, and my long blonde hair are the only things I really miss, and I still have access to one of them anytime I like.
The only normal we can count on is the certainty of change, and how we react and adapt to it, my friends.
Change led me to you, and for all the fortunate things I count in my life, that one’s right at the top of the list.
If not for these blustery times, we might not have met, and become anchored to each other as we ride out this latest American storm. This one is a doozy, but we know we are stronger together, and bound by undeniable truths.
As long as we stand as one we can never be defeated no matter how hard the howling winds of change rip away at our sturdy sails.
So thanks for staying with me during my journey East in this little but formidable nook on the Information Highway. I hope my stress hasn’t worked its way into my writing, and the words I have chosen for you are worth your valuable time and treasure.
I think the world of you, I really do, and hope a wonderful weekend awaits as you navigate your own ever-changing times.
We got this.
-Earl
How the journey started …
How the journey ended …
(D. Earl Stephens is the author of “Toxic Tales: A Caustic Collection of Donald J. Trump’s Very Important Letters” and finished up a 30-year career in journalism as the Managing Editor of Stars and Stripes. You can subscribe to his work here, and follow him on Bluesky here.)
Well said, Earl, and congratulations on your move. I am fervently hoping for a course correction for America on this treacherous voyage that we are currently on. We must all press on to better times once again.
I wish you all the happiness in your new home. Moving is the worst, esp to another state. New driver license, finding a new doctor, all the vendors you need, on and on. But soon you'll be wired in to your new community. Have fun!