REQUIEM FOR A PATRIOT

By H. N. Burdett

Among the more ironic idiosyncrasies of American history is the fact that two of the greatest founding fathers, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, passionate rivals who never lost their mutual respect passed away on the same day: July 4, 1826.

One hundred and eighty-five years later to the day, a far less known but no less a patriot breathed her last. Her name was Selma Goldberg and she lived in Crofton, Maryland. She was my friend and, at times, a burr in my saddle.

Selma was a liberal firebrand who never pulled a punch. Her causticity was usually aimed at Republicans and conservatives. But she was never shy about calling out fellow Democrats and progressives when she felt they had strayed from their ideals.

A staunch, steadfast civil rights advocate, Selma was a co-founder of the Anne Arundel County chapter of the National Organization for Women. Equal pay for equal work was her cause in the early 1970s when our paths first crossed. But she was no one-trick pony. Her curiosity and intelligence, her drive to know more about everything inspired her to research and study virtually every issue headlined on the front page and a few that seldom or never even get into the paper.

Her weapons of choice were her pen and, later, her computer. Her opinions were expressed with considerable thoughtfulness and enviable clarity in letters to the editor. More than once I had heard her grumble about what she felt was her local newspaper's absurd policy of limiting individuals to one or two letters a month. "If you have something to say, they ought to let you say it," she once told me. As an erstwhile editorial page editor who had wrestled daily with the problem of so many letters, so little space, I understood the newspaper's policy and tried to explain it to her. She sort of understood, but never seemed quite satisfied with my explanation. Yet when I urged her to use Potomac Digest as a forum, she declined on the grounds that she felt she did not write well enough. "You write well enough for me to offer you space," I replied. "It's not your writing, it's your thinking that readers will care about." She still respectfully declined. I was crestfallen.

In addition to reading Selma's letters to the editor, I was privileged to have been the recipient of a few of her thoughts via e-mail and telephone. Her phone conversations would typically begin with something like: "I'm angry with Obama today because. . ." She never shrieked or screamed. Her tone was always as controled as the evidence she had harnessed to make her point.

Though Selma and I did not always agree, I invariably respected her opinions because they invariably seemed so confounded rational. You could waterboard me forever, but there would be no possible way I would consent to debate her publicly. I know that if I had the audience overwhelmingly on my side at the outset, before it was over they would be with her.

We agreed more than we disagreed. Sometimes we both agreed and disagreed on the same issue. An example: We both felt that so-called "Obamacare" was health care restructuring rather than health care reform. We were both strong supporters of single payer insurance. But we parted on her belief that the President's bill was unworthy of the paper on which it was written. I argued that the measure had value in that it mandated coverage for at least 16 million previously uninsured Americans and virtually eliminate pre-existing conditions as a reason to deny insurance. She said that I had a point, but never indicated she agreed with me.

Selma never lost her sense of humor. We both felt that constructing a costly fence across the United States-Mexico border was an exercise in futility and stupidity, to say nothing of profligacy. She laughed when I told her that if a 10-foot high fence was built, undocumented immigrants would bring an 11-foot ladder. She laughed again when I told her the fence would probably be built by the only available labor: immigrants, perhaps undocumented.

It is her delightful laugh that I will miss most about her, I think.

It is fitting that Selma, the passionate soldier in the trenches defending social justice, died on the anniversary of American independence. Her core belief was that disagreement with your government is not unpatriotic; silence when your government is wrong is unpatriotic. In this conviction, Selma Goldberg's life is one that would please the ghosts of those two old rivals, Jefferson and Adams.