Lenny Ackerman

Inauguration

February 2021

Much has been written of last week’s inauguration. For me, coming off the crisis of the insurrection at our country’s temple of Democracy, the highlight was the young poet Amanda Gorman, whose poetry, youthfulness, and spontaneity were an inspiration. Great speeches are recorded in our history books—Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, John Kennedy’s inauguration speech and Martin Luther King’s speech at the Lincoln Memorial to name a few that come to mind. Yet the excitement generated by the young poet Gorman is intriguing. Who is she? Where did she come from and how did she come to the attention of Biden’s inauguration committee? Beyond the who, where and how, her delivery and the substance of what she said rose to an oratorical level not witnessed in our country for the last four years. It was as if all the windows and doors had been flung open allowing fresh air and sunlight into stale and fetid rooms.

Young Gorman’s recitation took me back to the fall of 1958 when, as a freshman at Rutgers Mens College in New Brunswick, New Jersey, I sat beneath the gothic arches in the Kirkpatrick campus chapel, listening to Robert Frost deliver his poem, “The Road Not Taken.” His words echoed throughout the majestic stained-glass hall. This was my first experience listening to a live reading by such a distinguished man of letters, and it was overwhelming. Amanda Gorman’s performance evoked in me a similar sense of awe. How incredible that the words of a 22-year-old could stir genuine inspiration and hope for our Democracy. Just as Robert Frost had motivated me to pursue my educational path– “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I– / I took the one less travelled by”—I heard and felt in Amanda Gorman’s “The Hill We Climb” the courage to move on from the corruption of the past four years. Her reading was no political stunt. It was honest and true and thrust open the doors and windows to a brighter future. “For there is always light, / If only we’re brave enough to see it. / If only we’re brave enough to be it.”

Winter Fishing

January 2021

My friend Ted sent me an email picture of himself, along with our buddies Greg and Darcy, fishing for brook trout at Dark Cove on East Grand Lake. The lake had finally frozen over, and Darcy had drilled down through the ice to the frigid lake water below. There was Greg all bundled up holding his fish amidst the paraphernalia of ice fishing. Our last fishing trip together for trout was in August at Beaver Dam, where we cast for the loveliest speckled brookies. Oh how I miss those days of a quiet summer afternoon, wading through the dense forest to reach the beaver ponds. Muck up to my knees, pulling myself loose from each step in anticipation. Funny how one can recall the details of an afternoon last August and barely recollect what happened yesterday. I suppose it is the personal moments in life that stay with us. So many of them for me are connected to Maine. Like finding that bright star, Sirius, the faithful “dog star” which always shines off the dock, never diminished by other stars or clouds. I locate that star the first night at camp when I arrive. It sets me in place. I know I am where I am supposed to be. Above all else that star is a constant. The Earth rotates, Washington changes Presidents, the weather is spotty, my stomach sometimes rumbles but the star is always in the same place watching over us souls on Earth while we stumble through the mud on our way to Beaver Dam to fish for brook trout. Be there soon.

At the Capitol

January 2021

I anticipated writing a very different column this week. It was to be about something timely and momentous and to me, very exciting: I just got my first Covid vaccine. Then, on Wednesday, during painting class, a breaking news notification popped up on my iPhone. I put down my paintbrush and watched in horror as the events in the Capitol unfolded. Seeing the Chambers of Congress in the news footage took me back to the summer of 1963 when I served as an intern for the esteemed Senator Estes Kefauver of Tennessee. It was the most exhilarating and inspiring time of my life up to that point. I witnessed the Civil Rights Act debate on the Senate floor. I was introduced to and had a bourbon with the legendary newsman Edward R. Murrow in Senator Kefauver’s office. I met Senators Barry Goldwater and Ted Kennedy, Attorney General Bobby Kennedy as well as other greats of that era. My biggest thrill was meeting President Kennedy in the Rose Garden after he addressed us, the interns of ‘63. Bill Clinton visited the White House that summer as a high school senior—there is a famous photo of him shaking hands with the President. I may have crossed paths with him too, in one of those august halls of government.

That is the background against which I viewed the shocking events of Wednesday, January 6, 2021, events that will live on in my mind and memory for the rest of my years. How does one react to such destruction in the heart of our democracy, the hallowed site of so much of our collective history, of our Republic? Perhaps Doris Kearns Goodwin said it best when she suggested it would take a hundred years for historians to fully assess this tragedy. I don’t need a hundred years to come to my own conclusions about it. I have thought long and hard since that day and I have decided that I will no longer associate with any of my friends who still support Trump and his lies. I tried to discuss it rationally and sensibly with these few friends, some of which I have known since college in the 1950s. They are not ignorant, uneducated people. They have had careers in business, law and medicine. Yet they still believe the election was stolen and that the mob that invaded Congress are patriots. I am done chilling over their stupidity. They are of the same ilk as Cruz and Hawley and all the other House members who voted to deny the validity of the election. No longer will I tolerate them–no more sympathy or conversation. I am blocking their email accounts and the repugnant diatribes they forward to me from the right-wing groups in bed with the white supremacists and anti-Semites.

My father left Ukraine as a teenager to avoid conscription into the army. He fled to Argentina because he could not enter the United States. His family that stayed perished in the Holocaust. Seeing the invaders of Congress wearing t-shirts with “Camp Auschwitz” and other anti-Semitic slogans emblazoned on them settled it for me. I believe I learned the lesson. Those who lingered in Germany, Hungary, France, Italy, Poland and Ukraine as Hitler spread his anti-Semitic rhetoric became victims. Hitler’s followers believed the lies. Trump’s followers believe his lies and have acted violently at his bidding. This is not going away after Inauguration Day. Congress must take a stand. We must all take a stand.

Vaccine Day

January 2021

Thursday was sign up for Vaccine Day here in Palm Beach. There were only a limited number of spots available online and they were gone after 30 minutes. Whoever got the email and responded instantly was given an appointment. It was like a free for all and if you hesitated you lost out. What a way to handle distribution. Some folks I know have flown back to New York to get their shots. Others, such as wealthy donors and board members of a local long-term-care facility, got personal invitations to come in first for their jabs–before the residents and staff. Everyone over the age of 65 is using their network to find a way to get vaccinated against COVID-19 and for some, all bets are off when it comes to ethics. I suppose it is to be expected in these times. Like a game of musical chairs, when the music stops make sure there is a chair for you, but in this version the stakes are life or death. I am patient and will wait my turn, just like my mother taught me to do. Do not cut the line to be first for pizza at school lunch. Do not look over at Gary the math whiz’s exam for your answers. Your turn will come. Be honest. Be patient. It is amazing to me when smart people don’t follow the rules. We are seeing it in Washington with the election. Rules don’t matter when political ambitions are on the line. Constitutional law only applies to the winners! These are not good lessons for our children. Cheat, scheme, do whatever you need to do to get ahead. Watch your parents offer bribes to get you into college. Another great example. We need to put on our big boy pants and stand up occasionally for the right things. The moral things. The honest things! I am cutting this short– time to get back online. I am following the vaccine rollout and need to get in line!

Kids Play

January 2021

An unidentified call lit up my cell phone screen. “Grandpa, it’s me, Billy! I got a phone!” Yes, a ten-year-old with a cell phone. First it was a TV, then an iPad, now a cell phone. When I was his age in Rochester, New York, playtime was decidedly more low-tech. All I asked for, repeatedly, was a Daisy BB gun and an Indian Racer bike. Eventually, I wore down my parents and got them both. Electronics for kids were not yet invented, but Kodak was just across the Memorial Bridge and if you took their tour, they offered free film and a loaner camera. No one had their own cameras back then, at least no one I knew. Today’s youngsters have an abundance of battery and cable-powered toys and devices from which to choose. My Billy is also into Legos and puzzles and I push him to read with incentives. He has an interest in coin collecting and his father established a savings and investment account to encourage some good financial habits. Things are sure different from the late 1940s when I was ten years old. My savings account was one set up by my teacher in elementary school, and we were advised to deposit a few coins in a jar each week. I was thrilled with the few dollars I had accumulated at the end of the year, and it permanently instilled the idea of saving, which was far more valuable.

My friends and I played cowboys and tried to dress accordingly. I maintain that Ralph Lauren, who is of my generation, must have breathed in the western style from similar games in his youth. Soldiers returning from WWII discarded their uniforms and other surplus. To me and my friends, getting our hands on a real Army jacket was the ultimate prize. I was able to collect some of the castoffs and to this day have a few Army shirts that I still wear, for fishing at camp. Some old habits never fade, though the shirts certainly have. One of my favorite haunts as a youngster was the public library across from Ben Franklin High School. I must have ridden my bike there hundreds of times. The librarian would sit me down at a table and bring me a book. I was a slow reader and would never finish. I had no basket on my bike so the librarian would mark my place and set the book aside for my next visit. During my last trip to Rochester a couple of years ago, I saw the library had been permanently closed. My old high school is now a technical school, and the neighborhood was recently the scene of some rioting. Yes, times have changed but not always for the best. I will be returning there to visit the cemetery of my parents once the pandemic is finally under control. If science created a complex cell-phone-camera device operable by a ten-year-old, it can and will defeat Covid with a vaccine—as long as everyone is willing to play along.

Enough Already

December 2020

It is finally over. The Supreme Court, The Electoral College, The States have all weighed in. The Supreme Court, in a simple sentence, said “No Standing” to Trump’s latest attempt to overturn the vote in the Presidential election. “No standing” is an interesting legal concept especially in that the Supreme Court has unlimited jurisdiction to hear cases brought before it. The Court found that the plaintiff, the State of Texas as represented by the Attorney General had no basis in making the claim. The Court never considered the merits of the claim, sidestepping the evidence submitted. Notwithstanding the unlimited jurisdiction rule, the Supreme Court found that Texas had no standing to attack, in a court of law, the voting in other states.

I assert the “no standing” objection often in my land use work when a neighbor from outside the block complains about an applicant seeking a variance or other relief before a Zoning or Planning Board. The concept is a basic rule of law. Texas should have no say in the voting in Michigan—they are “outside the block.” The Supreme Court invoked “no standing” to relieve the nation of Trump’s continued challenges to the legitimacy of the vote, and his undermining of our Democracy.

We are told that most of the Republican Party believe that the 2020 election was “rigged,” including 126 Republican Congressmen who co-signed Texas’s lawsuit. How can that be? The States themselves have recounted. The Lower Courts have ruled. And now the Supreme Court has said “Enough.” Trump knows, Rudy knows, Jared knows. Barr certainly knows and has finally put on his “man pants” and said so, after which he resigned so Trump could pre-empt coverage of the Electoral College votes confirming Biden’s win. So, what is the true agenda? Some say fundraising is the real story and this money –millions of dollars—will go to Trump’s pockets. This scheme cannot be true. I know from experience that lawyers have the capacity to keep litigating for delay purposes, but to use litigation to raise funds to support attacking the election when it is clear and established by the Supreme Court and Trump’s own Attorney General that election was won by Biden goes too far!

Our judicial system is not designed to put litigation on a path to finality. There is always another theory or an appeal from an appeal. Even with the Supreme Court’s “no standing” decision the system still allows for more litigation. One needs only another filing or court appearance to keep moving forward and to generate donations. Courts continue to accept filings of unfounded matters attacking the election. The funding will never stop because the appetite is insatiable.

Untold numbers of op-eds, columns and books will be written, laying out the events of the 2020 election. Our democracy will survive, and voters’ confidence will return. The conspirators will continue to spit out their claims. Let’s hope common sense will soon prevail.

Obituaries

December 2020

I grew up reading obituaries. There were very few books around my home, but we always received newspapers. The few books we did have were Christmas gifts to my father from employees at the Scrantom’s Books and Stationery emporium on Main Street in Rochester, New York. My father ran the parking lot concession for them, and they obviously did not know that he, an immigrant from Ukraine, could not read or write in English. He brought home the latest bestsellers, which were simply added to our bookshelf. I was fascinated by them and remember trying to tackle Les Misérables a dozen times, but at age five or six it was far too advanced–it wasn’t until high school that it finally made sense to me. My mother could read a little English as she had taken classes at night school to gain citizenship. She admired FDR and loved reading about him in the newspaper. Soon she and I were slowly poring over the articles together, polishing our reading skills, side by side. I was soon drawn to the obituaries, which were in both the morning and evening papers, so I had my fill reading them, each and every word. I do not believe, looking back, that I fully comprehended what I read in many of them –the background of the Kodak executive that died meant little to me. My interest was piqued by the battlefront deaths of the real-life young men who served and died in Europe and the Pacific and later the WWII veterans with their colorful military records. They were and still are heroes to me.

Eventually, I was able to ride my bicycle to the public library and my obsession with obituaries was sidelined by a new passion: books. Ever since then, reading has been one of the “structures” in my life, as essential as food and water. These days I read every evening before falling asleep. During the pandemic, book sales soared due to the stay-at-home life. Of course, many people are busy streaming on their smart TVs but reading books has gained momentum. Books are always my first choice for gift- giving, and I try to keep my local bookstore in business rather than using the online bookselling behemoth. Dan, the salesman, knows my taste and always recommends good current fiction and non-fiction. He also goes to the monthly used book fairs in Fort Lauderdale, where he finds copies of the out-of-print books I am looking for—many of which I discovered through the obituaries of famous authors who have died. The inventory at the book fairs come from libraries, private collections, and estate sales. I am often amazed at what people write in their books: comments about the author, notes on the writing, highlights, and underlines, even a shopping list. I continue to read the obit section regularly—unfortunately they keep coming–and quite often, especially in today’s political environment, it is still the most interesting section of the newspaper.

Conversations, Pt. II

November 2020

Friday after Thanksgiving was quiet around here. No scheduled calls or zoom meetings. The office calendar was empty. Nothing to do but relax. This was difficult for me. I need structure. My mornings are usually filled with people wanting advice which is “time sensitive.” My afternoons are busy videoconferencing with clients, architects, and engineers. But Friday was all mine to do as I wished, and I decided on something I have been meaning to do since I returned to Florida a month ago: a run in the wetlands trails that fringe Lake Okeechobee. It is a short run but there is a good mile and a half of natural track with plenty of roots and mud to make it satisfy an old athlete. I wore a mask the entire run and am pleased to report that all but a few stragglers on the trail wore masks as well. I kept my social distance when I passed walkers.

Lunch afterward, then on the way home, I stopped to get my old ’62 Jag cleaned. The car wash was mainly an open lot that appeared to have once been a service station–abandoned garages are a common sight along Dixie Highway in Riviera Beach. But this one was manned by a woman named Jeannie. Her hair was purple, she carried a lot of keys, and she ran the place with the assistance of a couple of obedient men. Jeannie is superb at what she does and dropping off the 60-year-old Jag was like delivering a sirloin steak to her for lunch. She attacked the job with all the enthusiasm one can muster for a car wash. When she opened the hood and saw the grime around the fuel pump, I heard a distinct OMG. She practically climbed in to examine the engine. The men assisting just followed her commands, wiping and scraping inside and out until Jeannie was satisfied. With 60 years of wear and tear, the Jag usually doesn’t shine much when cleaned up. There is rust in all the usual places. But after Jeannie and her crew were done, I saw a glimmer of how it might have looked when it rolled off the Jaguar factory line. There were a few folks passing by who popped in when they saw the unusual car. One fellow, Wendell, told me about a vintage Jag he restored but had to sell to meet mortgage payments. When he saw the interior of mine, he recommended a friend, a tradesman, who specializes in car woodwork. The old Jag needs it.

Riviera Beach is an up-and-coming area. Businesses like Jeannie’s, among the empty lots and repair shops, are the green shoots in a still mostly depressed area. I was happy to support Jeannie and give her some car joy. She told me she usually details used cars for sale out of back yard lots off the side streets in the area. I told her I would return soon. Given that the car is such a draw, maybe she could use it somehow as a marketing tool for her car wash. Time to get back to business.

Thanksgiving

November 2020

Thanksgiving 2020. A day that we will all remember for one reason or another. My prayers go out to the homeless that roam the streets of New York City, unable to find a regular meal, or a safe place to sleep for fear of violence. I think of the good folks who usually spend their Thanksgiving serving the homeless in the shelters. Are they wary of the close contact due to Covid? It is a cruel conundrum: the need versus the threat to everyone involved. These kind people are frontliners as are those serving in the Emergency Ward at Lenox Hill Hospital at 69th Street and Lexington. The EMT drivers leaning against their chariots of life, smoking under their cloth masks, waiting on the shrill beeping sound from their radios. The doctor who left his family early this morning to drive into the City to relieve his friend who has been on duty for the last two days, attending to a deeply scared patient on a respirator. And yet so many folks are troubled that they are not able to be with family. Yes, it is a sense of loss when you cannot spend the traditional holidays with loved ones. Get used to it buddy! We may all be in the same place next year per Dr. Fauci. Make the best of it. Compared to those living on the street, you are 1000% better off. Some people spent the summer at your Hamptons home on a new boat. Others went camping in their Range Rover. Those who are privileged to work remotely should be thankful they have a job to Zoom about. I am grateful to have a roof over my head, my health and my family – even if we can’t spend Thanksgiving 2020 together.

After the Election

November 2020

I had my scheduled exercise program shortly after the election. My trainer is a Trump supporter and has been espousing the usual Fox News disinformation: Covid-19 only exists because more people are being tested, Biden is suffering from dementia and the election was rigged. Well, Covid is real, Biden seems able to remember that he won, and Court after Court has affirmed that there is no evidence of vote tampering or fraud. I like my trainer. His political views do not affect his skills as a rehab professional. Now that the election is over, he is quieter, but digging in his heels, waiting for the next Oval Office tweet for proof of election malfeasance. I have numerous friends, college buddies and fishing cohorts who support Trump and each is managing the disappointment in their own way. Some are clearing the trees in their back 40, others have resorted to sending out emails of the Right, stoking rumors of Democratic Party plots to steal the election for Biden. The President will not concede and is attempting to stall the transition of the Biden administration. He refuses to provide the President-elect with the nation’s intelligence reports and has failed to address the rising infection rate throughout the country. This denial phenomenon has a major impact on the well-being of people everywhere. Those parents who refuse to wear a mask when taking their children to the public playground, those who continue to dine at local restaurants indoors and those who shop at grocery stores without masks, despite the signs at the entrance–their right to “liberty” may be depriving others of the right to “life.” How do they justify the danger to those who are more vulnerable? Is it morally right to place your family members or even perfect strangers in harm’s way? What is the moral obligation to look out for your neighbor in times of a health crisis? This is the strain we are all under these days. How can this be happening? The denial starts at the top, or the bottom, depending on how you look at it. The disregard of the science, the facts and the law. What has our country become? Where is the leadership from the Republican Party and its Congressional members? Do they care about their constituents or are they only thinking of their own re-election? There are a few Republicans who have taken a stand against all the misinformation. They are the future of their party and with the willingness of both sides to work together our country may return to sanity. Every day I count down to the inauguration of the new Washington with hope and empathy.