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.

 

The Republicans in the U.S. House of Representatives are making a shameful mockery of the unassailable virtue of honesty. It has become a foreign concept. 

Rep. Liz Cheney, a true-red Republican, has had the audacity to call a lie a lie. For uttering the truth about the 2020 presidential election, labeling Donald Trump’s claims of a fraudulent election a bold-faced lie and having voted for his impeachment, Cheney faces expulsion from the House Republican leadership. She is to be replaced tomorrow by Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy. 

Why?

Because the majority of Republicans in Congress subscribe to Trump’s false assertions, disputed in the courts and state elections supervisors, Cheney is being shunted aside for rejecting a dishonest party orthodoxy and supporting the election process. Her spineless colleagues continue to court Trump’s favor and by extension support by his base.

If the projected expulsion were not a real possibility, it would seem ridiculous and rancid. Unfortunately, the democracy we all love and treasure is threatened by the constant drumbeat by irresponsible Republicans of fraud in the 2020 election—despite its utter lack of proof.

The folks seeking to oust Liz Cheney care little about the damage they are inflicting on our country. It matters little to these people that some Americans may believe them and question the bedrock of our once exceptional country: our vote and belief it counts.

The congressional sheep, including Rep. Andy Harris, peddle this nonsense to supporters to win elections. Harris and his ilk feed the acknowledged discontent with, and distrust of government to Americans who might follow leaders with vision and integrity.

The theory among Trump and followers is a cynical one: if you tell the same lie over and over, it may seem the truth to the uninformed.

Through the despicable behavior of her misguided colleagues on the right, Cheney seems heroic, a symbol of honesty, even it means a temporary exile and unconscionable shunning.

When sloughing through a swamp with crocodiles hungry for power and money, it is difficult to survive if your intention is to speak the truth and defend the basic tenets of democracy. Why are the other swamp residents so driven by political avarice and praise doled out by the unelected swamp rat?

Cheney is a principled conservative. Her views run counter to mine. Yet, she accepts the undeniable truth: the 2020 election result was unimpeachable, that calling it otherwise is a lie, and that Trump incited a riot against democracy on Jan. 6.

Punished and sent to the corner to do penance, Cheney will not keep quiet. She has a responsible, credible voice. Her expulsion would be foolhardy for a party whose distaste for dissenting views makes it increasingly irrelevant and morally corrupt.

By casting its lot with a person loyal only to himself and devoted to wreaking revenge on party members opposed to his vacuous leadership, the Republican Party is damaging itself and the nation.

As the New York Times columnist, Thomas K. Friedman, wrote last week, “To be a leader in today’s G.O.P., you either have to play dumb or be dumb on the central issue facing our Republic: the integrity of our election. You have to accept everything that Trump has said about the election—without shred of evidence—and ignore everything his own attorney general, F.B.I. director and election director said—based on the evidence—that there was no substantive fraud.

“…There is simply nothing more dangerous for a two-party democracy than to have one party declare that no election where it loses is legitimate, and, therefore, if it loses it will just lie about the results and change the rules (as in pernicious efforts in state legislatures to suppress the vote to ensure future victories.”

I vote for honesty. I vote for principled leadership on either side of the political divide. 

I vote against attempts to dismantle our democracy. I vote against fraudulent behavior instigated by an ex-president with no concern about the inviolate foundation of our fractious country.

In an op-ed in the Washington Post, Liz Cheney wrote, “I am a conservative Republican, and the most conservative of conservative values is reverence for the rule of law. Each of us swears an oath before God to uphold our Constitution.”

Simply said, easily understandable, these comments are ageless and incontrovertible. Even for those who might disagree with the congresswoman’s political views.

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.

Spying takes eyesight and instinct. I learned how particularly important the former is last week.

You may wonder why Out and About (Sort of) did not appear on Tuesday. It’s entirely possible you did not wonder. We all have busy lives.

Last Wednesday I had a second cataract operation, this one on my left eye. The result, not uncommonly, generated annoying blurriness. As of the past Sunday, when I normally write my column, I could barely see the keyboard on my laptop. I asked Dave Wheelan for a momentary leave of absence.

The blurriness has dissipated. Thank goodness. I can resume cultivating my addiction to writing innumerable emails and my weekly Spy column. I have no excuses for spelling and grammatical errors.

To be a bit serious, I had little or no idea how disabling blurred eyesight can be to your lifestyle and psyche. I spent many hours in a darkened room to shield me from bothersome glare.

Extroverts do not normally hide away in a cave-like fashion.

So, I’m back in the saddle. I feel reinvigorated. My blurry perspective on life has diminished. Of course, that does not mean that my family believes that my perspective is any more sensible or clearer. or even correct at times.

Spycraft takes keen observation and insight. I think I’m up to the mission.

 

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 cool, windy day last Thursday morning at the Oxford Cemetery, as an eagle flew over the graveside burial service, a group of bundled up friends and family members gathered to say farewell to a man known for his understated leadership as a businessman, civic leader and philanthropist. 

Al Gipe died at age 95 on April 15 at his home in Royal Oak.

He was a man of few words. He established three successful engineering firms during his career, the last in Easton in 1979. He chaired the Academy Art Museum and Talbot Hospice and served as president of Easton Rotary.  He was a past vice president of the Waterfowl Festival and a board member of Waterfowl Chesapeake.

He was a superb listener. He had an innate sense that it was often better to listen, than talk. That is a rare attribute.

In a Star Democrat interview 10 years ago, he said that Talbot Hospice was his favorite non-profit. As chair, he oversaw the fundraising for construction and headed the building committee for the first phase of Hospice House and oversaw construction of the second phase of Hospice as well.

When he was Hospice chair, Liz Freedlander (my wife) served as executive director. Like so many others, she too was impressed by this soft-spoken man. She considered him a friend and mentor.

“Al was completely committed to the community volunteer leadership roles he assumed over the years. This was especially true of Hospice. While president of the board, he visited the patients in Hospice House once a week. He was calm, wise and persistent that a gold standard of care was delivered to the community. Al was my mentor while I worked at Hospice and remained my dear friend for 34 years,” Freedlander said. 

Liz and I attended the graveside ceremony, moved by its simplicity, its patriotism as represented by a U.S. Navy honor guard and the words spoken by his wife, Dagmar, and his daughter, Pat Lesnoff. The former graciously thanked friends for attending, while the latter slowly read a poem paying tribute to her dad’s straight-forward instructions about hunting, fishing and boating.

Gipe touched the lives of many people in his modest, steadfast way. One of them was Melanie Dixon, a longtime employee and vice president of Gipe Associates who offered these recollections:

“Al started this company (his third) in October 1977. That in itself I find amazing.  Who in their right mind at the age of 52 is thinking of starting a NEW company instead of thinking about retirement or slowing down! They don’t make them like they used to!  I was hired in August 1979.  Over the years, Al lived his personal and business life as he had once said to me: work hard. Play hard. But maintain a good balance.  I think he nailed it.

“In prior years and businesses he has had, then sold outright, he wanted to find a “new” way of selling this company to all of its employees under a “ESOP-Employee Stock Ownership Plan (ESOP).”  He spent a good year researching all the pros and cons, attending seminars, meetings with plan administrators, lawyers, accountants, banks, etc. etc.  Finally in 1991, we successfully started this process, and we purchased the first batch of shares.  By 2002, we purchased the final shares and became 100% employee-owned.  

“Essentially this is a plan where the company contributes corporate profits into the “ESOP Plan” each year, it gets allocated to all employees in cash and shares, and this builds over the years.  When an employee terminates, then their account is paid out to them over a 5-year period.  This instills a cohesive work force that all work towards a common goal and assures the best outcomes, not only for our clients, but for our workers and families and supports a “team” effort in all that we do.  

“Years ago, Al had a sailboat he named “Charisma”.  I think that word truly represented Al and all that he stood for.  He was the kindest, most positive and patient employer and person.  It was amazing how he had the best “insight” and faith in each person that they could learn and handle a particular duty or task, even when that person wasn’t so sure of themselves or capability.  

“He was a great listener…and many times told me that 99% of the solution was merely listening – letting the person vent about whatever- getting it off their chest, then the solution would come in its own good time and work itself out.  Piece of cake…don’t sweat the small stuff.  To me it was like watching a magician and racking my brain to figure out how he could make things look so damn easy.

“He will be so sorely missed and irreplaceable.  I found myself in the last week having moments of panic as it sinks in that I can no longer bounce an idea off him…what am I going to do!?  Then I calm down and keep telling myself – don’t sweat the small stuff, just keep on…play hard, work hard and maintain a good balance.”

In his low-key, down-to-earth way, Gipe inspired many who had the good fortune to work and serve with him in his business and non-profit careers. He sought little or no recognition; it just didn’t seem to matter to him. He remained focused on results and forward movement.

Ron Flohr, a financial adviser at Morgan Stanley in Easton who knew Al Gipe as he was dipping his toes as a young professional into community activities, also has many fond memories of this first-class gentleman.

“It is not too often that you meet someone as successful as Al at the early age of 28, and they treat you like a peer. In 2007, I had the opportunity to meet Al when I joined the Easton Rotary group. I went to my first meeting and sat down at a table with Al and a few others. I had not been in the seat for more than 30 seconds when I was told, “Hey, that’s my seat” — a real Cheers moment. Al told me not to worry about it, welcomed me and introduced me to the rest of the table.  

“Around the same time, I joined the board of the Waterfowl Festival, and once again there was Al welcoming me and introducing me to the rest of the board. It seemed like Al and his wife Dagmar were at every fundraiser or charitable event that I went to and always the first one to say hi.  

“Al really became an inspiration to me. He volunteered or donated to everything he could, which in turn made me feel like I could do the same. I genuinely believe that Talbot County is the place it is today because of people like Al. They volunteered their time; they gave their support and asked their friends to get involved.  

“I didn’t know Al for his success in business, I knew him as someone who loved this community and was passionate about doing what he could to improve it.”

Al Gipe has left our earthly bonds. Like many before him who contributed so mightily to the goodness of Talbot County and the Mid-Shore, he will not be forgotten. Folks like Liz Freedlander, Melanie Dixon and Ron Flohr will vividly recall a modest and committed person who achieved great success as a businessman and community leader.

While purely coincidental, the flyover by an eagle at the serene Oxford Cemetery seemed just right.  

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.

 

Just imagine an influx of immigrants with no political uproar or partisan bickering—it seems improbable.

Just imagine that this influx confronted no wall, no inhumane treatment by U.S. immigration officials “just doing their jobs.”

Just imagine one more thing: these immigrants receive unconditional love and sufficient nourishment, becoming immediate members of gratified families.

These immigrants are Kuwaiti dogs left homeless on the streets of Kuwait City by wealthy residents unwilling to care for their well-bred Western European dogs. The dogs are viewed as disposable, not valued.

Last week, my youngest daughter’s family became the adoptive parents of a three-year-old Chocolate Lab flown over two weeks ago to the United States. Bess and family are overjoyed. Augie (his new name) seems very comfortable, drawing plentiful love and countless pats.

Augie is a small, 30-pound dog that will remain the same size. Though nearly 13,000 miles away from Kuwait City, he has adapted quickly, apart from a few accidents.

This immigrant has gained immediate citizenship—and acceptance. 

Dogs are amazing animals. They make their owners kinder, gentler people capable of immense affection for a pet that keeps on giving the gifts of friendship and loyalty. By and large, they are neither judgmental nor petty.

In 2015 during a layover in Kuwait City, an airline attendant named Patricia Riska observed numerous dogs roaming the streets of Kuwait City, hungry, frightened and lost. She was alarmed. She began bringing one or two dogs home on each of her trips for adoption.

She then did more than that.

She and a woman in Baltimore established a non-profit rescue dog organization, Wings of Love, to bring Kuwaiti dogs to the United States for adoption by appreciative families. As of February 2020, according to an article in the Washington Post, the non-profit has brought more than 535 dogs from Kuwait, working with a woman there who rescues and cares for them on her farm.

Most of the dogs are living in Baltimore, with 30 also adopted in Washington and Virginia, according to the Post article.

We all know we live in a small world. We draw closer to our global neighbors, not only through human, but also canine relationships. We want to save lives as well as dogs abandoned in the streets of a Mideast city.

An airline attendant with a heart and a conscience saw an opportunity to give dogs a chance to find owners ready and able to embrace them and provide a nurturing environment. Two other women joined her long-distance rescue operation.

My daughter’s family is overjoyed.

Family members wondered if Augie would understand English commands. He does. I suppose that the language of dogs is universal.

Just maybe, my wife might agree to own another dog after our beloved Yellow Lab, Sandy, died more than four months ago. I doubt it.

Welcome, Augie, to our dog-loving country.

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.