Dear Frank, Peter, Corriell, Liza, Ella, Norah, Max, Parker,
and Molly:
The nine of you (five by blood, four by marriage) range in
age from thirties to teens. So, what if anything can I say on this first day of
my 92nd lap around old Sol that is relevant to each of you, that might be useful to
the life you are developing in these times so very different from mine at your
ages? I dare not give advice for an old geezer’s advice is merely quaint. And
who am I to advise from the brambles of my life? Actually, for me, my life has
been wonderful. Watching you nine is a big part of that wonder.
No, rather than presuming to advise, let me instead tell you
what I wish for you.
I wish you good health, of course. Through taking sensible
care of yourself; through AI-driven genetic, epigenetic and pharmaceutical
science; through research breakthroughs at Universities like our UW, my
Harvard, and my newly discovered Cambridge; through the NIH and CDC, your odds
of reaching 91 are improving every year. I know, you can’t imagine becoming 91.
I recall, as a college sophomore, telling my roommates I hoped to see the
arrival of the 21st century. That would have been at a ripe old 65! The odds
are you will become 91 and you will be able to do so very much in the 60
or 70 years between now and then. I’m jealous to think what I’ll miss and can’t
begin to imagine all you will see.
I wish for you a secure future, i.e., a reliably funded
social security system, accessible low cost if not free health care, and
low-cost if not free tertiary, technical and vocational education. And I wish there be smart people among you to
figure how to deliver it,
I wish you see restored a democratic republic and these
divisive, hate-filled days of dysfunctional politics fade away. I have confidence
that they will, that Americans’ sense of fair play and love of problem solving
will overcome. I wish that you avoid fundamentalism, the abdication of thinking
for yourself and turning over your life to an ideology or creed or holy writ or
cult leader.
I wish for you a skeptical turn of mind. Not pessimism or
negativism but a thoughtful skepticism about what others want you to believe or
think. The skeptic asks what’s the source? Why does this channel or newscaster
or op-ed or official want me to accept that? What is their agenda? Does this
make sense to me? I’ve also learned that complicated questions are, in a word,
complicated; simple solutions and slogans won’t cut it. Simple solutions to
complicated questions are almost invariably wrong. Make America Great Again
is nonsense; we have always had great potential; we have never fully lived up
to it; nonetheless, we are and continue to be a great nation.
I wish for you the
joy of social or public service. Your great-great grandfather served as a YMCA
Secretary (their version of CEO) and Chair of the Akron, Ohio School Board. My
Dad remembers watching a KKK cross burnt on their front lawn to terrorize and express
the Klan’s displeasure at Halley Waller’s welcoming, as the YMCA Secretary (like CEO,) and facilitating settlement
of immigrants, migrants and especially Catholics in Akron. In his turn, Fletch
Sr, my father/your great-grandfather, served during WWII as the War Dept’s Asst.
Director of Civilian Manpower and, during the Cold War, as Deputy General
Manager of the Atomic Energy Commission. I have served as officer and/or
director of several social service, arts and cultural not-for-profit orgs, and
have run – unsuccessfully – for public office (Port Commissioner), all to my benefit
and satisfaction. I wish for you to savor the challenge and satisfaction of
public service.
I wish you appreciate what a young and resilient nation we
are and draw confidence from that. To illustrate, subtract my 91 years and we
arrive at my birth in 1934, the heart of the Great Depression, from which we
recovered our strength. Go back another “Fletch” and it’s 1843, before the
Civil War, in which we purge our original sin of slavery. Just two lifetimes! Had
I been born in 1843, I might have been in the Union Army as a 17yr old trooper
– I say Union because that side of your family was of Vermont, Massachusetts
and New York stock. Perhaps, had I been killed, would you even be here?
Go back a third “Fletch” and it’s 1752, twenty years before
the Revolution and our becoming a nation. Had I been born in 1752, I might have
been fighting alongside 6x-greatgrandfather Israel Waller and his son Joe in The
Green Mountain Boys, Ira and Ethan Allens’ militia. Vermont was just disputed
territory then, on the way to proclaiming
itself five years later an independent nation.
Imagine: it takes only 6 generations of Wallers to span the
existence of our country: Octavia and Joseph, Philena & Chester, Josephine
& Henry, Florence & Hallie, Ellie & Fletcher, and Barbara/Ann &
I. Trace the Janes back: you’ll find the same thing, except starting in Canada.
We are still a young nation. With your generation’s help and leadership, we’ll
muddle through this adolescent rebellion. Have patience, keep the faith, and
make your voices heard (oops, there, I gave advice.)
I wish for you my love of history. It gives me pleasure and
an understanding of how things have come to be, the better to understand them.
I wish for you my love of reading, of discovery. I’m not knocking Tik Tac or
whatever the hell it is, or Instagram or The History Channel, but I get my
perspective from reading different versions in books. If any of you want some
of my library, come and get it!
Going hand-in-glove with history is Ann‘s and my love of
travel; I hope you share that and experience the wondrous variety of our world
and its peoples. There’s no substitute for going, seeing and listening for
yourself. That’s why I went to Nicaragua during the Contra days: to see who was
telling the bigger lies, Ronald Regan or Daniel Ortega. (I concluded it was a
tie.)
Our goal, and I wish you consider adopting it as well, is to
become educated. Become is the operative word, for one never achieves full
education. “Lifelong Learning” has become cliché. Ann and I regard Learning as Life.
That’s why we go to summer school at Cambridge University, taking fifteen hours
of classes a week and attending 25 or so plenary lectures from world experts on
every subject imaginable. We’ll go again for two weeks next summer, God
granting us good health and stamina. Our thirst to become educated is why Ann
took several semesters in UW’s access program; why we sign up for workshops and
lectures from all sorts of orgs; why I can’t resist a history book. I wish for
you to keep trying to become educated even while recognizing that you never
will fully reach the goal.
I wish for you the challenge and satisfaction of putting
your mark on whatever institution you are part of – company, church, school,
civic org, whatever. Looking back, it appears as if I was intent on getting
through Hamilton College without leaving a mark on it; now I am trying to make
up for that by serving as class secretary. (I did a bit better at Sidwell
Friends, holding the school record for javelin for a few years, being first in
my class to earn a varsity letter, being our good field/no hit third baseman, being
President of the Boys Athletic Association, while also being the most inept JV
football player in school history. Yes, I also got good grades.) Subsequently, I
learned to speak up and volunteer, to take charge of a project or program; this
has emboldened me and enabled me to make a mark on groups of which I am a part.
(That speaking up has also gotten me fired twice, but that’s another story.) And
I wish for you the discovery of how enriching it is to work with a variety of
people of different backgrounds and values and viewpoints. My projects are
always more successful if I have suffered working out differences with and
coming to appreciate contributions of folks unlike Fletch.
Lastly, (yes, there is an end) I wish for you the joy of
expressing yourself in art, as Frank Sr. and Ann have discovered in their painting;
Amy, in her jewelry design; Ella, in her tattooing; Max, with his trumpet. Nothing
has brought me more joy than my sculpting, as amateurish as it is.
So, there it is: looking back helps me see what I wish for you.
Get to know and cherish each other.
Ciao for another year.
G’pa Fletch
PS: Rowing. One more wish is that
you discover the thrill and pleasure of crew. There’s nothing else like it. Ann
crewed with Martha’s Moms. Amy, Jeff and Norah have crewed on the Mississippi. Rowing
for Brown, Cam won an ICAA championship in 4’s. Grant crewed in high school. My
crewing and coaching days are now over. I so miss being on the water as the sun
comes up over Mt. Rainier, being, as it were, one of The Boys in the Boat. Go crew!
G’pa F
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