King's Corner: What We Didn't See
Halloween decorations are beginning to fill the stores, some classic and some strange. I saw one in Tractor Supplies of a cow draped in a sheet, supposed to look like a ghost. I half expected to see a “Battle Born” logo on the side of the sheet.
Every Halloween we’re reminded that Nevada was born as a state in the midst of the civil war, a rushed anointing on October 31, 1864 so silver mining could provide the finances to fund The North. We’re “battle born” although, fortunately, no battles of that time were fought on this soil.
But we’ve been impacted by frightening tragedies elsewhere.
For anyone old enough to remember, there was a party game you could always play and everyone would participate. Just ask “Where we you when you heard that President John F Kennedy (JFK) had been shot?” Even now, every person that age clearly remembers. Each can share in great detail. The shock was seared onto their emotions. The party game was cathartic, the brief release of the still-embedded sense of loss.
On the night in April 1968 that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, Senator Robert F. Kennedy, then a candidate for president, told a shocked and largely Black crowd in Indianapolis that “it is perhaps well to ask what kind of a nation we are and what direction we want to move in.”
“Those of you who are Black,” he said, could be filled with “a desire for revenge.” Or, he said, the nation could try to replace violence “with an effort to understand.” It was considered one of the finest speeches of his life. But in the wake of Dr. King’s death, riots, looting and arson erupted in more than 100 American cities, and Kennedy himself was assassinated that June in California.
Fifty-seven years later, our nation is at another polarized moment after the assassination of Charlie Kirk, the 31-year-old conservative activist gunned down on a college campus in Utah. We’re grappling with the brutal killing of a young leader who is viewed through radically different lenses. On America’s political right, Mr. Kirk has been lionized as an inspiration to a new generation of young conservatives. Among thousands of young conservatives on American college campuses he was a rock star, a gifted speaker who relished debating with more liberal students. On the left, he has been pilloried as a divider who attacked civil rights, transgender rights, feminism and Islam.
Both King and Kirk centered their ability to inspire passion in others based on their belief in the God and the Bible, and the certainty that it could impact everyday American life. Both murders both occurred in a country already awash in violent political rhetoric and partisan anger. Mentions of the term “civil war” have skyrocketed on social media platforms.
But the outcomes of then and now have the potential to be very different.
I think back to one time when my dad, Mark King, and I were at an event run by Douglas County Mounted Sheriff’s Posse, testing horses for use by the posse. In the first part both horse and rider had to traverse an obstacle course. In the next part the horse had to show it was capable of pulling loads, like it might be asked to do in a rescue situation. During each part Mark gave me a narrative of what they were doing and why.
Then the horses stood there as a helicopter landed. Mark said to watch them closely. I asked what I was looking for, and he said “nothing”. I didn’t understand. Then he explained that the horses should be doing nothing, not reacting in any way to the helicopter. What they didn’t do was more important than what they did. That’s what qualified them to be in the posse.
And that’s what I’ve noticed in the last few days when Democrats and Republicans in Congress lashed out at each other, and are ever more fearful for their own safety. When strong opinions on both sides have filled social media. I watched what didn’t happen.
How many buildings were burned? None. How many people were dragged into the street because they might look like the shooter? Not one. How many police officers were spit on for not doing their job? Not one. The hate, the negativity didn’t erupt in violence. That alone offers hope.
If the assassin was seeking to trigger a violent response from MAGA they’d be disappointed. Instead they may have inspired a new generation of Charlie Kirks.
Charlie Kirk had principles, had accountability. That used to be something in this country to be admired: to be different, to speak your heart. He took risks, tackling topics that we almost can’t discuss including three things that are death sentences for public speakers: religion, gender and politics.
And he had incredible patience. He would give the microphone to anyone, including those who strongly disagreed. He would give them the mic knowing they were ready to call him every name in the book.
Charlie, in his death, showed that his faith was incredibly strong. His willingness to create a public forum on college campuses to discuss anything was courageous. But what stands out to me is the willingness of both his supporters and opponents to move ahead without violence.
These coming weeks and this Halloween may not be filled with horrors, but with hope, because of what we didn’t see.
