A Tale of Two Governors

It was the best of governors, it was the worst of presidents. . .

To watch the coronavirus briefings of Roy Cooper and Andrew Cuomo, governors of North Carolina and New York respectively, is to watch two men with contrasting styles.  Where Governor Cooper is reserved and gentle, Governor Cuomo is open and aggressive.  Where Governor Cooper's briefings are controlled and organized, Governor Cuomo's are freewheeling and unconventional.  Where reporters in North Carolina phone in questions with deference to the Governor, reporters in New York compete and shout each other down.  But here the differences end and the similarities begin. 

Each of these distinguished, intelligent men knows how to lead in this crisis:

They thank their citizens--particularly those working for the public--for their hard and selfless work.

They express sadness for the loss of life and sympathy to families in mourning.

They present facts based on science and medicine.

They refer questions to their staff so that clear, precise information is conveyed.

They treat reporters with respect and answer questions carefully.

They seek to unify rather than divide.

Their president, however, does the opposite.  His briefings are all about him.  He brags, he lies, and he blames others.  He answers questions directed at staff despite his ignorance.  He demeans reporters and political opponents.  He calls his citizens names.

That great opening sentence from A Tale of Two Cities continues, "it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity. . . "

We're fortunate in these two wise, believable governors and in many of their peers. . . but could we be cursed with a more foolish, incredible character sitting in the White House?  Not a chance.

Why Aren't You Listening?

A joint post between Marjorie and her daughter, Miranda

This week's events have reminded us of an old parable, "The Man by the River."  In this story, a man hears a warning over the radio about a coming flood but does nothing, insisting that God loves him and will save him.  Meanwhile, most of his neighbors clear out.  Then a rescuer comes along in a boat, offering to row the man to safety.  He insists, once again, that God will save him.  Finally, a helicopter hovering above is another avenue to safety.  When the man refuses help again, he drowns.  In heaven, he asks God, "Why didn't you save me?  I prayed, and I thought you loved me."  God responds, "I sent you a radio message, a rowboat, and a helicopter.  What were you waiting for?"

(This story is told brilliantly by Karl Malden on the television show The West Wing.  Link to the Youtube clip here.)

Many of our fellow citizens have spent their time this past week protesting stay-at-home orders around the country.  In Michigan, they sat in their cars, blocking access to a hospital.  Their reasons for protesting include a desire to visit a hair salon, purchase grass seed and lawn fertilizer (it's snowing in Michigan, folks!), and the theory that staying at home is allowing the virus to win.  Our top scientists insist that stay-at-home orders and the continuing closure of non-essential businesses and schools are the best strategies to manage this pandemic.

We believe that, as in the parable, God has sent us the best scientists and researchers, government warnings and press conferences (thank you, Governor Cuomo, etc.), and plenty of news.  God doesn't save us but asks us to save ourselves.

Donald Cottontail

A reworking of a popular Easter song, "Here Comes Peter Cottontail," composed by Steve Nelson and Jack Rollins.

Governors Trumping Trump

Despite Donald Trump's insistence that he's managing the coronavirus crisis, our state's governors are the ones who've been in charge.  Many of them--like Andrew Cuomo of New York, Gavin Newsom of California, and J. B. Pritzker of Illinois--communicate facts, explain trends and patterns, take responsibility, and support each other.  They are refreshingly honest, and they speak with intelligence.

What does President Trump do to support their efforts?  If you hoped for encouragement, helpful advice, and thoughtful cooperation, you hoped in vain.

We had an early clue about this when Jay Inslee, Governor of Washington, faced the first onslaught of COVID-19 in a nursing home near Seattle.  Other states weren't facing the crisis yet, and Inslee was largely on his own.  As reported by Politico, Inslee told Vice President Pence the efforts to combat coronavirus would be more successful "if the Trump administration stuck to the science and told the truth."  Trump's response: "That governor is a snake."

Since then, Trump has admonished Gretchen Witmer of Michigan, saying, "Failing Michigan Governor must work harder and be more proactive."  Last month he tweeted that Governor Pritzker "and a very small group of certain other Governors. . . shouldn't be blaming the Federal Government for their own shortcomings."  And just yesterday Trump said that Governor Cuomo wasn't being "gracious" for the aid he's received.

Donald Trump has called himself a "wartime president," invoking World War II and saying, "Now's our time. . . We must sacrifice together, because we are all in this together."  But don't wartime presidents support their generals in the field?  Undermining one's own staff is a sure path to defeat. 

Whether or not the wartime metaphor is apt for the coronavirus onslaught, the need for cooperation between our federal and state governments couldn't be greater.  For this to work, leadership needs to come from the top.  Since it hasn't, governors have stepped into this void, and I for one am grateful.