For me, Senator John McClain’s funeral services in both Phoenix and Washington were a breath of cool, fresh air.
Those cities, along with Memphis, have been inundated with the hottest summer in history.
Our country, and world, have been more divided recently than when the continents themselves divided over 200 million years ago.
These services gave me hope and they also “reminded me of a story.”
When our company decided to expand our business internationally one of the first markets we entered was the United Kingdom. Obviously, this involved engaging a “solicitor.” Solicitor is a British term of justification for larger fees. After an all-day meeting, this member of the British bar invited us to his home for cocktails. Yes, his meter runs on the left side of the road, too.
His home had been built in the early 19th century and included a beautiful garden. Alfred Lord Tennyson had actually lived there. As we sipped scotch in the garden, I sat down on a stone bench. Our host wandered over and told me that the bench I was sitting on was the same bench where Tennyson sat when he composed “In Memoriam.” Never to be out done after 3 scotches, I began to quote from that beautiful poem Tennyson wrote as a eulogy to his friend Arthur Hallem.
“Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;”
I believe for the only time in his life our solicitor was at a total loss for words. “I had no idea you were an educated man,” was all he could say. The only reply I could slur was “That makes two of us.” In typical British fashion he smiled and replied, “Well said.” Who says we are separated by a common language that six scotches can’t fix. In Memoriam.