Dr. Amy Wax is a conservative flamethrower at the University of Pennsylvania Law School. She is a tenured professor who is now facing sanctions for her perceived racist comments both in and outside the classroom. 

Does she use freedom of speech as a coaxer or a cudgel?

To this Penn undergraduate alum, her comments are alarming, if not abhorrent.

I have spent weeks thinking about this column. I have sought the opinions of friends who are attorneys whose intellectual depth I respect. Still, I sit alone on a writer’s island awaiting clarity from my ephemeral muse. It can be a lonely perch.

Dr. Wax, a neurologist as well as a lawyer and professor, undeniably opposes affirmative action. Her chronically inflammatory comments reflect disdain for Blacks who eschew bourgeois values, question the cognitive aptitude of African- American students and criticize Asian students who strive for conformity and vote Democratic.

She aligns herself with White Nationalists. Her public statements bluntly condemn wokeness and a culture that cancels conservative speakers and critics such as this determined Ivy League lightning rod. She virtually dares my alma mater to remove her tenured status. She’s a relentless warrior of free speech, unfettered by condemnation by students and colleagues.

Readers would be unsurprised to learn of my disgust for what strikes me as a pattern of bigoted remarks by a brilliant teacher who exhibits little or no reluctance or contrition to voice hurtful and hostile remarks. While her perspectives mostly happen outside the classroom, she has insulted students inside her academic realm. She decries their sensitivity; I despair of her damning asides. 

She seems oblivious to the impact of her comments. In fact, she displays an attitude contemptuous of criticism from students and colleagues. 

As I contemplate my position on this columnist’s weekly pedestal, I find myself defending Professor Wax’s right to utter free, though outrageous speech. I cringe more than a little bit at this conclusion. The discomfort experienced by her students is bothersome, if not outright despicable. 

But she has the right to claim her niche as a conservative speaker at a university considered liberal. Her tenured status provides unassailable academic freedom. That freedom underscores the basic tenets of an educational institution unaffected by political concerns and constraints. 

Amy Wax seeks no pulpit but the one offered at Penn Law. She has no political ambitions. She rejects implicit or explicit censorship. Unfortunately, she and the law school are engaged in a battle royale that produces headlines injurious to a brilliant professor and esteemed law school. The media is providing a public venue for litigation.

The dispute has been roiling the campus since 2017. Regrettably, it has attracted considerable media and academic attention. I suspect that a legal settlement is out of question since freedom of speech has become a national cause celebre. The sides are intractable. 

Among friends, classmates and readers, my stance will be unpopular. I will understand their consternation. I still support Dr. Wax’s right to be appalling.

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. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.

From the first time I immersed myself in Maryland General Assembly machinations, I learned that one subject never vanished: abortion.

It has been a constant source of heated controversy. I never understood why. I still am perplexed. Discussion consumes an inordinate amount of valuable public policy time. Relationships among legislators fray.

Due to recent action by the current House of Delegates and State Senate, legal abortion will be decided in a public plebiscite in 2024. Voters will vote on a referendum to determine if abortion rights should be incorporated into the state constitution.

If I could vote early, my vote would be resoundingly yes. It will not change. I am keenly aware that a large segment of the population would think differently, passionately so.

My reasoning is simple. The choice of an abortion belongs solely to a woman and her doctor. It does not rest in the hands of politicians, nor in the Catholic Church. The decision is intensely personal.

Moreover, abortion as part of public policy debate pales in comparison in terms of importance to discussion of the minimum wage, water quality, crime prevention, poverty reduction, quality education and climate control.

The referendum will elicit strong, well-organized opposition from the Catholic and evangelical churches as well as a slew of interest groups. Equally adamant proponents of abortion will state their arguments. Verbal combat will be relentless.

The unfortunate Supreme Court decision overturning Roe vs. Wade, in June 2021, placing abortion rights under the purview of the states, catalyzed the Maryland General Assembly to enthrone abortion in the state constitution should voters approve the referendum.

If the referendum, which undoubtedly will prompt non-stop advocacy on both sides, is approved, maybe abortion rights will no longer stir strong emotions in our state. For me, that would be a welcome relief. The citizenry could invest its energy and passion in other causes.

I spend little or no time debating the age-old conundrum about when an embryo becomes a person. This comment will shock abortion opponents. What I concentrate on is choice; an abortion represents a clear statement of a woman’s desire to be a mother. Should a woman have no wish to be a parent—indicative of her disinclination to provide love and care—then she ought to have the right to abort prior to “fetal viability,” except in consultation with a doctor when a woman’s life is in danger, as stipulated in Maryland law.

Ideally a woman feels capable of raising a child with abundant, unconditional love. That obviously is not the case in multiple instances. Giving birth to a child and putting him or her up for adoption is also a sensible option too. I have met people who were adopted, led wonderful lives and then sought out their birth parents. The result is heartwarming in most cases.

My attitude toward pregnancy is far from being cavalier. Parenting is difficult and demanding. Should a woman choose an abortion to avoid the responsibility of raising a child, then I respect that decision.

Chances for an unloved child to lead a satisfying life are minimal.

I applaud the state legislature for placing the terribly fraught subject of abortion before the public as a referendum. The decibel level of the arguments for and against a woman’s right will be deafening. I would hope that abortion will be protected once and for all in Maryland through a constitutional amendment.

We can clear the public arena for other substantive topics and dialogue.

We can protect a woman’s reproductive rights.

We can respect, rather than demean a woman’s decision.

We can ensure that freedom of choice is a valued right as a Marylander.

We can sustain a tolerant, compassionate culture in our state.

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. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.

Ten days ago, I happily watched Navy play Lehigh in lacrosse on a cool Saturday afternoon at the Navy-Marine Corps Memorial Stadium in Annapolis. A friend who was a former opponent when he played at Princeton against the University of Pennsylvania joined me.

We talked our way through Navy’s losing effort, second-guessing the young athletes on their failure to pass when we thought they should, and the poor shot selection by the midshipmen. Two 77-year-olds were experts, forgetting our miscues more than 55 years ago. We were unforgiving.

Shame on us. Our memories were in full swing. We were older men joyfully enjoying our all-knowing perspective. We relished recounting the past and respecting the present.

That’s my point. My friend, a retired pediatric surgeon who also played football at Princeton, and I spent two hours reliving our exploits on lacrosse fields in the Northeast. We played, however, in a different era. While our competitive spirit was the same, the pace of the game was different, slower, not so specialized.

We played with wooden sticks. We played on grass, not turf. Our coaches were gentlemen who coached the game to win—but not at all costs. Not at the detriment of demanding academic requirements. Our aspirations were modest.

We never considered an NCAA championship even a remote possibility. An Ivy League championship, unreachable for our inconsistent team, would have satisfied me, providing bragging rights.

Whether participating on Division I or III levels, today’s lacrosse players are far better conditioned and more intensely coached than we were. The game reflects a greater emphasis on speed, athletic skill and year-round commitment. Fun is harder to achieve.

I believe that intercollegiate sports at the top academic schools in the nation have veered way off balance. When you are not playing, you are fulfilling rigid expectations in a school’s well-equipped fitness center during the off-season. Practice sessions begin earlier, if approved by the NCAA. A conference title is desirable but not the final objective.

The blame is not solely the responsibility of ambitious, driven coaches and the universities that employ them. Parents deserve criticism too (as do proud grandparents).

Young children can spend their summers at expensive camps devoted to lacrosse, field hockey, ice hockey, football, tennis, gymnastics, baseball, soccer and other sports. And, lest I forget, young people (including my 12-year-old grandson) join travel teams, if selected. The time commitment is tremendous.

Children want to succeed at their favorite sport. They are striving for victory, weekend after weekend. The desire to excel and attract notice is evident. Parents support them if they have the time and money

What eventually happens, however, is becoming increasingly more common: the college athlete, excessively focused for more than 10 years, decides that he or she is burnt out and seeks a normal life in higher education. They have lost their enthusiasm. Other things matter more, like a future career.

Mind you, my observations in this column did not interfere with my total enjoyment of the recent game, a sport that I started playing with my brother in the backyard when I was 10. In fact, I tried to imagine how I would perform if I were competing either for Navy or Lehigh.

Spectator sports provide a healthy escape from life’s vicissitudes. When shared with a friend, the experience is even better. Unceasing chatter is de rigueur, featuring stories that may be partially true.

Alone with my thoughts, I still think about missed goals, errant passes, elusive ground balls and avoidable losses. Hovering over my past recollections, though, is the unforgotten thrill of teamwork and camaraderie.

Memories may fade, but they still color our lives.

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. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.

Who cares that Fox News, a cable TV version of the screeds voiced on radio by Rush Limbaugh, the late radio commentator whose outrageous right-wing bluster was immensely popular, is being sued for defamation by Dominion Voting Systems for $1.6 billion?

Very few people. Viewers distrust television news shows as purveyors of truth.

Sad commentary about a country filled with multiple tribal interpretations of news. The tide has turned. You believe only what feeds your existing bias.

I watch little or no TV news. I prefer the printed word. My news providers are the Baltimore Sun, the Washington Post, the New York Times, Maryland Matters, the Baltimore Banner and, of course, the Spy.

I avoid bumptious and boisterous TV commentators. They often resemble entertainers—because they are. They succeed or not by the number of viewers who tune into loud exclamations of certainty. I will not watch CNN or Fox News; they both infringe upon my journalistic sensibilities. They peddle anger and outrage.

The facts presented so far in the Dominion lawsuit against media magnate Rupert Murdoch’s empire portray news executives and its jarring commentators deliberately reporting lies about verifiable voting machines—for three reasons: retain its right-wing audience, retain its advertisers committed to polls and return its commercial advantage over competing, ultra-conservative cable TV networks.

Truth be damned. It mattered not. Support of lies propagated by the former president was the primary objective. Fox wanted to retain its wildly conservative and misguided Trumpian audience—and advertisers.

Fox now faces the consequences of its loose relationship with the truth. If it avoids legal condemnation, its reputation is at risk. Does it matter to Murdoch?

My guess is that the Fox fanatics are so distrustful of what they consider liberal media, they will be reluctant to relinquish their allegiance to a distorted perspective of news. I doubt that Fox will resort to an honest reporting of the news; it does not suit its business model.

Journalism has taken a dangerous turn. Truthful reporting is twisted according to the political slant of a particular news platform. Objective reporting is passé. Clear separation of reporting from editorial comment is muddied.

I have written about the demise of local media, as proved by the number of newspapers that are no longer in business. I worry too about the demise of objectivity, a doctrine drilled into this writer while enrolled in journalism school. Any variation would not be tolerated by the faculty.

While some may question whether objectivity is humanly possible, I believe it is. The Public Broadcasting System’s daily News Hour epitomizes straight-up, fair reporting. I realize, however, that conservative viewers may disagree, sensitive to body language or treatment of guests.

Fox TV, viewed by some friends as the apostle of truth and a bulwark against “woke” culture, engenders distrust of government. Long-serving bureaucrats are viewed and characterized as insidious roadblocks to the implementation of plans and policies proposed by politicians intent on behaving illegally, if not unethically. In my way of thinking, these conscientious civil servants provide necessary checks and balances.

However the defamation lawsuit proceeds, Fox’s credibility as a news source is in serious trouble. Its obsession with pleasing the Trumpian audience, at all costs, is open to question, if not derision. Even Paul Ryan, former Republican Speaker of the House and Fox corporate board member, cautioned against the peddling of lies about unproven election fraud. He was ignored.

Life goes on. Not necessarily civilly. Broadcast and cable news will continue feeding the public all the news fit for differing and conflicting viewpoints.

It would be nice to conclude with an optimistic message about truth or consequences, to opine that our prevalent distrust of institutions and opposing political perspectives will diminish. Just imagine if a new wave of decency enveloped our nation. Improbable, but possible.

Politically slanted media make lots of money by catering to their adamant audiences. Rupert Murdoch and other communication titans could change their modes of operation by viewing the truth as a marketable commodity.

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. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.

 

 

As my good friend planned his weekly Saturday morning attendance at religious services at his Manhattan synagogue, he received word from the rabbi to beware of potential violence propagated by neo-Nazis and white supremacists during a national “Day of Hate” created to “expose the international clique of parasitic vermin that infect our nation today…that is the one truly enemy of the American people, the Jew.”

In response to the possibility of poisonous actions, the rabbi informed congregants that the Sabbath service would be conducted outside on the steps of the temple. Call it an act of defiance. Call it an act of courage.

The prime purpose was to resist intimidation. 

Temple Emanuel-El, the largest Reform synagogue in the world, had received no specific threats. Nonetheless, its location at East 65th Street and Fifth Avenue makes it a prime target for destructive extremist actions. New York Police Department (NYPD) police are constantly on alert. Protection of houses of worship by local police forces throughout the country is now more intentional than ever before.

According to my friend, roughly 100 congregants attended the service, far more than usual. NYPD police provided security on a chilly morning. The media covered what became a poignant event, along with onlookers across the street. Clergy from other denominations also participated.

When asked if he felt scared, my friend initially said no. Then, he said that at one point during the abbreviated service, he did consider the possibility of violence. Resolve was his primary emotion.

While intellectually I understand that segments of our fractured society feel angry about what they perceive as threats to their sense of cultural dominance, I despise their behavior. Free speech is one thing, even if objectionable. Violence and intimidation are unbearable.

Haunted by the Holocaust, Jews face constant fear of replication of Adolph Hitler’s murder of six million Jews. This memory will never fade. Pure hatred instigated unimaginable killing and maiming. Obliteration of the Jewish culture was Hitler’s abhorrent objective. Any of us with Jewish heritage remain on guard against increasing anti-semitic terrorism.

Churches, synagogues and mosques are sacred places of prayer and solace. They are cherished. They must be protected.

Extremist threats and behavior, intended to parlay loathing into personal attacks and community disruption, are the domain of narrow-minded bigots. I grant the right to grievances and unhappiness. However, I do not countenance acts of outright bias; the perpetrators and victims both suffer. Hatred sucks up your energy. Innocent targets of violence either lose their lives or their sense of security.

Instead of the comfort of religious observance and silent prayer, my friend faced an unusual, fraught service in the most populated city in the United States. It was his choice to attend and join his fellow congregants in making a statement to dangerous haters. I commend his determination. I told him so.

We live now in a nation where a “Day of Hate” not only is celebrated but tolerated. Our Founding Fathers would be flabbergasted. They hallowed freedom and liberty. If you read their words, they sought happiness and peace. And, yes, they paid far too little attention to slavery and its abominable oppression of people who only differed in their skin color.

New York answered the “Day of Hate” with a “Day of Resolve.” That makes sense. What is galling is the ever-spreading disease of animus. Anti-semitism is on the rise. Dangerous bias against “others” afflicts our country. The cure is elusive.

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. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.

In writing this column, I feel as if I am confronting an odd conflict of interest. Three years younger than President Biden, I am torn about whether his octogenarian status renders him too old to seek a second term and serve as a physically and mentally capable president.

His performance at his recent state of the union speech was strong and energetic. He seemed to enjoy the repartee resulting from disrespectful comments voiced by a few outrageous Republicans. He was agile rhetorically during the unusually spirited exchanges. And his sudden trip to Kyiv, Ukraine, with its exhausting logistics, exhibited admirable energy and perseverance

The next evening, I watched him during an interview with PBS’s Judy Woodruff. While he appeared relaxed and confident, his voice was faint. His gait was labored as he walked toward the interview venue. He tossed aside concerns about his age with his typical refrain, “Watch me.”

My 22-year-old grandson, a Democrat, told me during Thanksgiving that the president’s age would be an absolute barrier to his support of Biden. A 79-year-old longtime state politician hesitated when I asked her if she could vote for Joe Biden. She asked for my opinion. I said I was “torn.” She responded by saying she too was conflicted.

I referred at the outset to my “conflict of interest.” I feel confident about my brainpower, however one judges that component of our state of being. I love to learn. New, creative concepts enthuse me. I savor thoughtful competition of ideas and perspectives.

But I tire more easily. I deal with gnawing medical challenges. I look in the mirror and see obvious signs of aging. I am more prone to accept physical problems. Optimism and persistence continue, however, to be strong defenses.

So, when I think about President Biden and the relentless pace and demands of his job at the churning White House, I fret about its impact on its 80-year-old occupant. The decision-making pressure is ceaseless. The overriding need to concentrate on complicated, fraught crises, both domestic and foreign, is constant. Political machinations are stressful.

Whether you are 40 or 80, the power and potency of the highest office in the land is intoxicating. Legislative victories in a poisonous political environment produce prideful euphoria. Buoyed by these hard-fought triumphs, Biden naturally wants to do more, create more opportunities for success. 

Should he seek a second term, an exhausting grind challenging someone half his age? Should he step away from political combat after 50 years and return to a pleasant life in Wilmington, Del. and a vacation house that beckons him to Rehoboth Beach, Del.? 

If he is the only Democrat who can win the presidency, fending off notable Republicans with frightening agendas, then I would urge him to go for it despite his discouraging polls. If I could feel comfortable that someone else in the Democratic camp could beat tough GOP opponents, I would argue for Biden to retire and enjoy his twilight years–without pundits and political foes questioning his cognitive and physical abilities.

I want to believe that President Biden is fully equipped to serve as an effective and vibrant chief executive. I want to think that his advanced age is irrelevant. I strive to consider his wisdom and common sense as more crucial than his chronological benchmark.

Some will assert that age is a state of mind. That might be true. I hope that Joe Biden and his family approach the impending decision about running or not for a second term personally and politically. I would recommend an objective analysis, if possible. 

Public service, while fulfilling at times, is tiresome and frustrating. Your days are overcome by crises. 

If he seeks a second term, this senior citizen will support him wholeheartedly despite my doubts about the adverse effects of aging. His steady leadership, devoid of unnecessary drama and disruptive behavior, is appealing. 

Charisma is not his strong suit. I wonder if it matters. His sincerity does.

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. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.

 

A visit to Colonial Williamsburg always restores my faith in the wisdom of our founding fathers and their faith in the American experiment of democracy. They would be alarmed, if not sadly disappointed by the current state of our democratic government.

As George Washington approached the end of his presidency and public service in 1797, the historical interpreter portrayed a man anxious to return to his Mt. Vernon, Virginia home and concerned about “factions.” He bemoaned the emergence of political parties and geographical parochialism. Also, he warned against passion in foreign affairs, fearful that fondness for, or hatred of, a foreign power were unwise motivations for intervention.

Ever practical, Washington was a firm proponent of a strong federal government, one that had inherent mechanisms for balance of power, such as the executive and legislative branches. He understood that political parties would be divisive, creating a corrosive element in our democracy.

Rather prescient, was he not?

Exhausted, if not disillusioned by the difficulties of serving as our nation’s first president, Mr. Washington said he wished he had declined the presidency. He yearned for an agrarian life on his northern Virginian plantation.

Having listened previously to the forthright, sometimes blunt Washington, I realized again that common sense and muted ambition characterized this gentleman. His colleagues spoke more elegantly than he, but not necessarily more wisely. He served his raucous country during the Revolutionary War. He then assumed leadership of our newly birthed nation when it required a resolute, pragmatic and sensible chief executive.

The contrast between Washington and a young James Madison, portrayed in 1782, was stark. One projected steadiness; he was smarter in the ways of the world than he was an intellectual giant. The other, eventually our fourth president, was a skilled writer and deep thinker.

He prided himself on tackling a blank piece of paper and filling it with influential ideas, as he did with the Federalist Papers.

A close friend and associate of Thomas Jefferson, Madison is credited with being the ‘Father of the Constitution’. His stage presence, as interpreted by one of Colonial Williamsburg’s superb cadre of actor-historians, depicted a young, energetic and intellectual member of Congress. He was supremely confident in his mental acuities.

Like Washington, Madison too opposed factions. He wondered, once the Revolutionary War ended, what, and who would be the young nation’s common enemy; he justifiably fretted about the bonds of unity in a country built on an idea. While acknowledging the power of individual options and fruitful disagreement, he seemed concerned about how the exchange of differing concepts would manifest itself.

I should stop here and collect my thoughts. Commentary about current events remains eerily similar after 250 years.

Madison placed his faith in logic and reason, not emotion and personality. The United States in 2023 reflects the consternation of Washington and Madison: factions, evident in both political parties, are seeding discord and division. No better example illustrates today’s disagreeable and disgusting behavior than the spectacle of Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R, Ga.) screaming “liar” as President Biden delivered his State of the Union speech a week ago.

The Jan. 6, 2021, insurrection, undertaken by extremists determined to block verification by Congress of the 2020 Presidential vote count, was a despicable act of factionalism propagated by misguided and violent election deniers, specifically members of the Proud Boys and the Oath Keepers.

Refusal by segments of the Black community and conservative Republicans to accept scientific evidence supporting masking and anti-Covid vaccine points to distrust motivating many Americans, placing themselves and their families in danger of serious illness and death. Institutional trust is at a low, disturbing ebb across the political spectrum.

Our founders were extraordinary people who believed in freedom and liberty. They considered rule by a king antithetical to placing government in the hands of the people. They disdained authoritarian dominance whose only claim was hereditary prerogative.

Democracy, though messy and unruly at times, is preferable to royal or autocratic governance. The founders instinctively knew our experiment was precarious. The documents that they produced—the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights—provide an inviolate definition of our shared values.

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. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.

 

 

 

 

Listening two weeks ago to the Spy interview with Talbot County Councilperson Pete Lesher, I found the content troubling and confusing.

Lesher went into extensive detail, struggling at some points, to explain that the Lakeside at Trappe development was a dead issue. The county council would not rescind its faulty decision to approve an outsized project that could bring a harvest of 2,500 residential units.

Lesher, a highly intelligent and deliberative public official, pointed to the decision in early November 2022 by the Maryland Department of the Environment (MDE) to grant sewage usage for 400 homes. MDE would have to approve all other hookups for additional phases of a subdivision injurious to the rural character of the Trappe area.

Councilperson Lesher said he made his decision after speaking with the county attorney, members of the Talbot Integrity Project (TIP) and “others.” Normally I would grant Lesher the benefit of the doubt and accept his reasoning. As an Easton town councilperson for eight years and county representative for four years, “Pete” typically approaches decisions sensibly and cautiously.

In this instance, I disagree with what was obviously a painful decision. I do so after reading a thoughtful letter to the editor of the Talbot Spy by Mike McConnel, a Royal Oak resident and retired Philadelphia attorney comfortable with land use issues and legal interpretation. I respect his sound judgment.

If this non-lawyer understood McConnel’s letter, which drew several favorable comments, the county council is legally empowered to decide whether the Lakeside community should proceed—regardless of MDE’s decision to approve sewage capacity for 400 homes. McConnel’s legal premise is not his; it was the result of due diligence conducted by a Baltimore law firm.

In answer as to whether the county council can rescind Resolution 281 authorizing Lakeside and approve Resolution 381to execute the recission, Gallagher, Evelius & Jones said the council “unquestionably is authorized to rescind Resolution 281…Particularly in a case where new facts have come to light or a resolution was based on material assertions of fact that have turned out to be inaccurate or incomplete, the Council not only has the authority to rescind the resolution, but a responsibility to do so.”

Were I betting on the legal expertise of the county attorney versus a law firm familiar with land use and administrative law, I would opt for the latter. The reasoning is logical, not political. The decision to forgo rescission is legally unsustainable. 

Throughout this tortuous process, the county attorney wrongly advised that the council could not rescind a planning commission resolution, which was based on faulty information. That assertion by the county attorney is flawed. Lesher and his council colleagues proceeded to move forward with an inappropriately large development based on incorrect guidance.

According to the law firm’s opinion and McConnel’s endorsement, the county council should not consider MDE’s actions as absolute. Further, the decision whether the developer’s rights are “vested” is one made by a court, not a political or administrative body. Based on Maryland Code, the council, should it rescind an amendment due to “changed circumstances or other local factors, the Code’s requirement that MDE approve or deny the amendment does not and will not stand in the way of the county’s control over development.”

While Lesher’s comments during the Spy interview seem to spell the end of the Lakeside contretemps, they also epitomize how sloppily the former and current county councils have managed a shameful disruption to Talbot County’s rural character—and inattentiveness to unexercised legal rights. 

Dead issue? Probably. Regretfully.

TIP, led by Dan Watson, achieved a major victory despite the council’s acceptance of its own misguided reality: it galvanized residents to be aware of land use decisions and shine the public spotlight on the process. To avoid additional Lakesides, vigilant citizens must hold the county council accountable. 

Political decision-making is often ugly, sometimes devoid of common sense to trusting constituents. That would be the case with this consequential matter.

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. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.

Adolescence and young adulthood during the turbulent 1960s challenged the senses and sensibilities. It was a decade that begged to be explained. Its impact still resonates.

The music, epitomized by the incomparable Beatles, explored social mores, love, disobedience and war. While the sound captivated people throughout the world, the lyrics compelled soul-searching and doubt. I can still hear the unmistakable rhythms of the British Invasion pour out of rooms in my college dormitory. It was infectious.

The world of music had changed; rock-and-roll had taken a strange but wonderful turn.

The Vietnam War dominated the 1960s, bringing the horror of vicious combat to television screens. Death was a constant. Dishonest behavior by Presidents Johnson and Nixon added to the disillusionment and generational tension that pervaded our ruptured country.

Assassinations of an American president, his brother seeking the presidency and the most visible civil rights leader marked this upsetting decade as one that shook and splintered the United States in ways that disrupted family and community cohesion.

A young, charismatic president. His passionate, relentless brother. And a leader determined to stamp out racial bias. All three gone by the way of bullets and rage. The 1960s shook our beings to the core. It was a wrenching time in America.

Readers may wonder what inspired this surge of painful nostalgia. As my wife and I recently watched The Sixties Show in Annapolis, a multi-media production, the music, events and personalities that dominated our young lives again burrowed into our consciousness. Images of anti-war protests, the wild and ruly Woodstock music festival, the somberly beautiful lyrics of Simon and Garfunkel, the advent of the smooth Motown sound and the cruelly unnecessary murders of President John F. Kennedy, Sen. Robert Kennedy and the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. all coalesced in a music venue filled with memories of unforgettable music and societal disruption.

The 1960s remain part of my soul. Social unrest roiled our lives. The peaceful 1950s gave way to questioning and concern. Racial injustice was a major theme, embodied in the soaring words of Rev. King. Sexual mores became more liberal. Marijuana was the drug of choice. Academic and governmental institutions engendered distrust.

Life turned upside down. America was undergoing catastrophic change.

Music performed by counter-cultural groups provided the backdrop for a noisy revolution. African American groups came out of Detroit with a smooth Motown sound that captivated audiences of all shades. It was a remarkable transformation of popular music. Like all artistic works, music reflected the times: circumspect, sad, rebellious and soulful.

As noted, the Vietnam War was the defining event. It split our nation: young versus old, Black versus White, liberal versus conservative and status quo versus change.

Opposition to the war was rampant on college campuses. World War II-era parents generally supported the Far Eastern conflict. Black leaders bemoaned the large number of young African Americans serving in infantry units prone to combat death. Sons of wealthy, well-connected parents avoided the war by joining the Guard and Reserve—or moving to Canada.

Liberal voters grew in their criticism of a war that U.S. forces seemed to be losing; conservative voters supported the government despite increasingly reliable information about our failed efforts.

Remnants of the Vietnam War remain in my generation. So do opposing views of patriotism and disagreement.

As The Sixties Show ended, the mostly gray-haired audience was clapping and singing along. It was heartening. The mood was joyous. Politics was irrelevant. The decade had stirred strong passions. The music was a unifier.

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. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.

 

As Baltimore’s riots raged in 1968 after the gruesome assassination of the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., Maryland Governor Spiro Agnew chastised Black leaders for failing to step forward to ramp down the violence. His remarks drew national attention and consequently his selection by Richard M. Nixon as his vice presidential running mate.

The politically shrewd and ruthless Nixon figured he had an attack dog in Agnew who would curry votes from the segregationist South.

Nixon had learned the tremendous appeal of anti-integration Alabama Gov. George Wallace, who was gaining momentum before he was seriously wounded in a Laurel, Md. shopping center parking lot while campaigning for the presidential nomination as an Independent.

Fast forward 55 years to Jan. 18, 2023, the day that Maryland inaugurated its first Black governor, Wes Moore, and its first immigrant as lieutenant governor, Aruna Miller. Agnew would be aghast, if not appalled.

He resigned as vice president in disgrace after being accused of taking payoffs as Baltimore County Executive and vice president. He gained prominence on the national stage for his stridently divisive remarks. He exited ignominiously wreaking of corruption. Maryland was blemished.

As I listened to Gov. Moore’s crisply delivered speech, I was struck by two themes: in addressing thorny socioeconomic issues, he eschewed either/or and the politically explosive me-against-them battleground. He expressed hope. He postulated that our state could be a leader in promoting equality, achievement and fairness.

For example, Moore opined there could be safe streets and fairer treatment of Black offenders imprisoned in disproportionately greater numbers than Whites.

Further, building Maryland’s wealth should be as equally compelling as attacking poverty and unequal health care. Moore will not forget Baltimore, a city infamous for its rampant crime and disparity between the wealthy and disadvantaged.

Raised in Baltimore, with continued family ties and dear friends, I bemoan its image of incessant drug abuse and gang-related violence. Gov. Moore seems determined to revive the once-upon greatness of a city that, though generally segregated during my upbringing, did not set records for violence.

Moore has talked frequently about service above self. He is recommending a gap year between high school graduation and college or job. Domestic service for youth is a constant topic of discussion in the political arena. In recent years, many advocates think that national service will knock down barriers between the rich and poor—and minimize polarization between social classes.

I hope that Moore will succeed ‘in leaving no one behind.’ I admire his military experience and his commitment to discipline, as well as loyalty to those whom he leads.  He has served in a combat zone. He is accustomed to focusing laser-like on a mission and accomplishing it, noise and distractions aside.

He waved away skeptics during his inaugural remarks who might believe that his litany of objectives would fall victim to political strife and ideological roadblocks. He understands the challenges facing his administration. At this point, everything is possible—until it isn’t.

Moore realizes that his success as Maryland’s 63rd governor will depend on his staff, his cabinet secretaries, the legislature—and his ability to lead with clarity and credibility. Some of his appointees will serve him well, offering pragmatic creativity. Others will fall by the wayside, unable or unwilling to understand Maryland’s Byzantine political process. His priorities may suffer.

Moore’s charisma alone will not suffice. His persistence and trustworthiness will trump all. He should pay little or no attention to the national glare that will engulf him as our state’s first Black governor. He should direct his ambitions to our state and its needs.

Maryland comes first. He knows that. Flattery is illusory.

Spiro Agnew made enemies. He did little to calm the rioters in 1968. He opted for blame instead of collaboration. He unashamedly used political office for personal gain. He placed Maryland in the forefront of corruption. Five-and-a-half decades later, we have a governor who desperately seeks change to benefit the entire spectrum of citizens. His enemies will be those who view new thinking as threatening.

As a final note, I commend former Gov. Larry Hogan for his gracious handling of the transition between his and Moore’s administration. His civility, once a staple of politics, stood in sharp contrast to the handoff between Trump and Joe Biden. Hogan received special mention, deservedly so, from Moore during his inauguration remarks.