Repeat loser Alan Keyes has accepted the Illinois GOP's invitation to be beaten by up-and-comer state Senator Barack Obama for U.S. Senate, and it reminded me of a recent conversation I had with Senator Barbara Mikulski of Maryland, who kicked Keyes conservative keister back 1992.
I had the pleasure of a long, impromptu conversation with Sen. Mikulski (D-MD), the day after Sen. John Kerry "reported for duty", having formally accepted the Democratic nomination for president.
The Senator sat next to me in the waiting area at Boston Logan Airport. Across from us were two of staffers. Midway through the conversation we were joined by the Senator's DNCC "tracker" -- a Greg Kinnear look-alike with disheveled hair and short-shorts, and a smile that could light up a room.
Sen. Mikulski explained to me that a tracker was the person responsible for prepping folks who would take to the convention podium. He would tell her when to walk, how to stand, where to look, how to pace oneself while speaking, etc. While I have already forgottten this man's name, one could not forget the wonderful stories he told us with great glee, which may have even gotten the Senator's stoic bodyguard to crack a smile.
We had ample time to be regaled with colorful tales of public figures asking for beer before they went on stage, or others resisting his requests to practice their speeches, because our respective flights were both delayed.
Later, the Senator and I talked about many different, intersecting subjects: absentee voting, progressive 527 organizations like MoveOn.org and Progressive Majority, Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, and Barack Obama -- all of whom she spoke about with high regard. We also commiserated on the demise of her former colleague and my former boss, Ambassador Carol Moseley-Braun, for whom I worked on her legislative staff early in her first and only term. We talked about the racism and sexism she encountered while in office, and the more preventable issues she grappled with that all conspired to derail the political career of a highly competent, truly intelligent, and decent woman.
I mentioned to Sen. Mikulski that my family was from Baltimore. And after a minute of playing the name-game, she realized that I was the grandson of long-time community activist, TV personality, and former columnist for the Baltimore Afro-American Newspaper, Madeline Murphy. Once that connection was made, her body-language changed, such that for the rest of our exchange, she was turned fully towards me and leaning in as though we were old friends. She gave a knowing laugh, clearly reminiscing about the Madeline Murphy who would call her office to raise hell without hesitation or apology.
It was clear that she had great respect for my grandmother -- a woman who spoke truth to power, and, without a doubt, is a hero of mine, whose edge while beveled by a massive stroke a few years, still has that characteristic.
Her late husband, Judge William H. Murphy, Sr. -- my grandfather -- would always remark when hearing about the achievements and advancements of my generation, "We are an amazing people." But as much as successive generations of Blackfolk have undoubtedly accomplished, I look at my mother's mother, Madeline Wheeler Murphy, and I see a freedom fighter with extraordinary wisdom and an iron will, a fraction of which I could only hope to possess one day. When other grandmothers were telling their little ones, "Don't forget to wear a sweater," my grandmother would remind me as know-it-all college kid in the belly of the Ivy beast, "You are surrounded by assassins" -- said not so much as an insult, but as a cogent reminder that Yale was not built for "us".
I had heard from some of my fellow legislative staffers in the Senate that there was a seal on the floor of Sen. Mikulski's office that staffers quickly learned not to cross. When I asked what made that seal such an important threshold, I was told in half-jest that it was because when the Senator would hurl her desk phone in a rage, that's as far as the cord could reach.
I never met the Senator while working in the Beltway. However, given the deference she showed my grandmother and the legendary "edge" she and my grandmother shared, I wonder what it would have been like working for her: another diminuitive, but forceful crusader for the less fortunate, representing a state where my maternal lineages go back well over 200 years.
I doubt I'll never know, as I have since acquired an allergic reaction to employment within the Beltway. But I do know one thing: It's time I paid my grandma a long overdue call!
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