Update 11-11-08

Hi,

In this historic week, one of those linked chains of letters.  First, from Lynn Nudleman Villagran to Booker Gibson:
   
        Hi, Booker,
        Wasn't yesterday a wonderful day!  It was so momentous.  Just wanted to share my joy with you.
        Fondly,
        Lynn Nudelman Villagran
   
    Then, from Booker to Lynn:
   
        Lynn,   
        Thank you so much.  I was a Hillary supporter in the very beginning since she had come out here to support a Black lady who was running a very uphill battle.  This was before Hillary had even "announced" for the presidency.  After the primaries started, we got to observe Obama, but somehow the thought of his being elected still didn't seem true or even possible.
        On Tuesday night, watching the returns, we were waiting for the West coast results.  We were at home alone when the dramatic announcement was made.  It was so short but shocking.  My  wife kept repeating, "I can't believe this!" and I was helplessly crying.
        The phone started ringing with calls from relatives.  I picked it up, but couldn't even speak.  I just handed it to my wife. 
        Lynn, we've slowly come back to earth when we just think of the enormous "mess" he's been left with and the many people who don't think he's capable of doing the job.  Some people, I know, say he's a "socialist" or a "Muslim."  They have so many things wrong.  By the way, Valley Stream, north and south, voted for him
        The last wish, Lynn, if you see Barnet Kellman, please tell him "thanks" for urging younger Jewish people to fly to Florida to help persuade their parents to vote for Obama.  That was cheerfully mentioned on CNN.  And say "hello" to anyone who can imagine my happiness.
        Sincerely, 
        Booker T. Gibson
   
    Lynn asked me to forward Booker's note to Barnet Kellman, who wrote:
   
        Hi Booker,
        The thanks for “The Great Schlep” goes to Sarah Silverman, of course.  But we all have to thank each other as Americans for coming together and doing the right thing in so many different ways.
        Did you see Sunday’s NY Times editorial by Maureen Dowd?  It made me laugh and cry — too true, too true.  I, of course, immediately thought of you.
        Reading the Reunion newsletter all these years, I have always been struck by the burden you have had to carry for all of us Class of 65ers, and god only knows how many other South High students.  I’m always a bit embarrassed by the shout outs you get in our blog.  You are a great teacher, and a great human being, and you had quite a job on your hands, being the only Black authority figure any of us ever had through the age of 18.  But damn it, you sure did a great job as all of the recollections in the newsletter attest.
        You should feel enormously proud, and, perhaps, somewhat relieved that Barack has arrived to pick up the mantle from you.
        Warmest regards and thanks, 
        Barnet
   
    Barbara Blitfield Pech noted in an "Open Note to Barnet Kellman:"
   
        Barnet,
        Greetings.  Caught an old "Murphy Brown" segment a day-or-two after the election and noticed the theme tag line, "Yes We Can" repeated through out the episode.  Coincidence, or did you have a wonderful presidential ear to whisper it into?
        Barbara
   
    Finally, I wrote Booker:
   
        Booker,
        Lynn forwarded your letter, and I'd really like to share the pleasure of both your letter and hers with the class.  I think they'd appreciate them.  Please let me know.
        And, yes, now if Mr. Obama can just lead this country where so many people in it, and in the world, want and need it to go.
        Rich
   
    An excerpt from -- and the link to -- the Maureen Dowd Times editorial Barnet mentioned:
   
        I grew up in the nation’s capital, but I’ve never seen blacks and whites here intermingling as they have this week.  Everywhere I go, some white person is asking some black person how they feel.  I saw one white customer quiz his black waitress about whether she cried when Barack Obama won.  She said she did, and he said he wept like a baby.
        He wondered how long she thought it would take the new president to scrape the government up off the floor.  “Three years,” she replied authoritatively.
        I saw three white women asking a black bartender if he was happy and what he thought about Jesse Jackson’s flowing tears at Grant Park.  “I think the tears were real,” he said.
        And did he feel it would be better to refer to Obama as "half-white and half-black," or simply "black," they pressed.
        “Black,” the bartender responded.  “Because it means more.”
        I saw a white-haired white woman down the block from me running out to strike up a conversation with a black U.P.S. delivery guy.  I heard my cute black mailman talking in an excited voice outside my house.  “Are you talking about the election?” I said brightly.  He shot me a look of bemused disdain as I suddenly realized he was deep in a personal conversation that had nothing to do with Barack Obama.
        I was starting to feel guilty.  Would perfect strangers want me to ask how they were feeling?  Or was that condescending, and were they sick to death of it?  But how would I know if I didn’t ask them?
   
        The full editorial at:  http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/09/opinion/09dowd.html?em
   
    Also, unfortunately coincidentally, this week's Times obituary of another role model, starting from the 1950s:
   
        Miriam Makeba, a South African singer whose voice stirred hopes of freedom among millions in her own country though her music was formally banned by the apartheid authorities she struggled against, died overnight after performing at a concert in Italy.  She was 76.
        Widely known as “Mama Africa,” she had been a prominent exiled opponent of apartheid since the South African authorities revoked her passport in 1960 and refused to allow her to return after she traveled abroad.  Although Ms. Makeba had been weakened by osteoarthritis, her death stunned many in South Africa, where she stood as an enduring emblem of the travails of black people under the apartheid system of racial segregation that ended with the release from prison of Nelson Mandela in 1990 and the country’s first fully democratic elections in 1994.
         In a statement on Monday, Mr. Mandela said the death “of our beloved Miriam has saddened us and our nation.  Her haunting melodies gave voice to the pain of exile and dislocation which she felt for 31 long years.  At the same time, her music inspired a powerful sense of hope in all of us.  She was South Africa’s first lady of song and was a mother to our struggle and to the young nation of ours.”
        Mr. Mandela’s was one of many tributes from South African leaders.
   
        The full obituary at:  http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/11/world/africa/11makeba.html?ref=obituaries
   
    There are other class notes, unrelated to history, but they'll wait till next week.