From the final pages by Sir Martin Gilbert:

The nation mourned, showing its grief at Churchill’s lying-in-state in Westminster Hall, when 300,000 people filed past his coffin, and during the State Funeral, the first given to a commoner since the death of the Duke of Wellington more than a century earlier.

In her message to Parliament, the Queen called Churchill a “national hero.”  Attlee, his wartime deputy and post-war successor, described him as “the greatest Englishman of our time — I think the greatest citizen of the world of our time.”

“It is hardly in the nature of things,” Churchill’s daughter Mary had written to her father in 1951, “that your descendants should inherit your genius — but I earnestly hope they may share in some way the qualities of your heart.” 

Four years later Randolph had written to him: “Power must pass and vanish.  Glory, which is achieved through a just exercise of power — which itself is accumulated by genius, toil, courage and self-sacrifice — alone remains.  Your glory is enshrined forever on the imperishable plinth with the centuries. ”  Such was a son’s encouragement at the time of his father’s final resignation [after his second term as PM].” 

From Mary had come further words of of solace nine years later, when his life’s great impulses were at last fading.  “In addition to all the feelings a daughter has for a loving, generous father, I owe you what every Englishman, woman & child does — Liberty itself.”

And with that, this remarkable story of Sir Winston Churchill ended.  It’s not a final farewell,  however.  More of a beginning.

I’d argue that not just every Englishman, woman & child owes a great deal to Churchill — every freedom-loving man, woman & child has a debt to him as well.  Take the time to learn about him so that you can learn from him and be inspired by his courage and determination.

His legacy lives on.  It’s not the end, but more of a beginning.

I’ve almost conquered Sir Martin Gilbert’s delightful tome on Winston Churchill.  With just a chapter and a half left, I’m growing a bit nostalgic.  Favorite item of late: when the former Prime Minister (he went back to Parliament after World War II) needed to rest, he’d just call up one of his friends (read royal dignitaries from other countries or very rich English dukes & duchesses) and go stay at their chalet/castle/cottage/country estate for weeks upon end.  If I had that luxury, I’d simply decide to “need rest” forever.

I’m slowly conquering my neck & back injuries I mentioned last week.  The pain is lessening, although my doctor says there are still “unresolved issues” that I can’t feel right now.  But I’m thankful to be feeling more like myself — and honestly, two deep tissue massages a week are not all that bad.

I’m in the process of conquering our basement with a paint roller and brush.  Painting is really fun.  And although I’m not sitting by a lake in some European chalet, there’s a grand sense of accomplishment when you personally transform an 80′s-peachy-pink bathroom with a bright and cheery “Blue Mist” from Home Depot.  I’m now onto the rust-red and navy guest bedroom (going to a “Soft Plum” option) and the faded-tan and brown living room which will soon be transformed by a delightful shade of green, the name of which I can’t remember.  But I’m slowly conquering.  And our house is becoming our home.

There’s another thing I’m going to start conquering: William Safire’s Lend Me Your Ears, a collection of great speeches I’ve previously mentioned.  It has rested peacefully on my office bookshelf, watching me and yet not complaining.  I’ve been in the middle the  seemingly-daunting tome above.  But it’s time.

My plan is to read 2-3 speeches a night and then reflect on them here.  Not every bit of every one.  The highlights.  Even though I’d beg you to read them all with me, I’m realistic and know that probably won’t happen.  So.  If you want to see how Abraham Lincoln modeled his Gettysburg Address after Pericles’ Funeral Oration, “read” the speech Nixon had prepared in case the Apollo XI landing ended in tragedy, or encounter some of the best commencement speeches ever given, stay tuned.

His graduation ceremony got me thinking about commencement addresses.  Not the ones that are a mask for campaign speeches or political messaging — those go into a different category, in my opinion. 

I’m not talking about the intellectual ones, either.  There’s a time and a place to discuss your life-long research.  But that time and place is not at a graduation.  I say this with a bit of personal sadness, for my college commencement fell into this category.

The school headmaster, Dr. Wacker, didn’t give the official commencement address, but he spoke directly to the gradautes before presenting their diplomas. 

He told them (and the audience) of his his academic mentor — a brilliant man who taught him to dream, to reach for the stars and work hard in the process.  He recalled how his mentor encouraged him to press on, even when discouraged by grueling days and weeks and months of writing and research.

This mentor died many years ago.  But Dr. Wacker said that he had been a part of every class he taught, every lecture he gave.  His mentor’s life and work and legacy allowed him to “stand on his shoulders, just as you all [speaking to the graduates] will go on and stand on ours [speaking of the teachers and faculty].  You’ll carry this place and time with you, just as I carry the lessons learned from my mentor with me.”

Dr. Wacker’s story reminded me once again of the power of learning from those gone before.  They may be dead, they may be living.  But there are those who have much to teach us, either from their writings or over a cup of coffee.

O, the many places and ways there are to be an ongoing learner.

We’ve been talking about this purchase for several months now, but several circumstances convinced us that it was finally time to that strange trip to the furniture store when mimic your sleeping position on multiple mattresses while a total stranger watches with intent interest.  At least we’re married.

What circumstances, you ask?  This summer we have several dear friends coming to visit and I have been scheming up the “perfect” guest room downstairs.  I’m sure they’d be perfectly content with an air mattress… but after all, we’re “old” and “grown-up” and should certainly have a civilized guest room to offer. 

The second circumstance is rather unfortunate.  A few weeks ago I injured my neck, shoulder, and back in a bus accident while riding to work.  The severe whiplash has made it very difficult to sleep, and thus my sweet husband declared that it was time to buy a more comfortable option for me (and he said he wouldn’t mind, either).

So with that, we were off.

Thomas, our ever helpful sales associate, greeted us at the door and ferried us to the back of the store.  He explained the differences between foam and spring options, pillowtop and tempurpedic, and why you should let your mattress “breathe” at night.  It was very informative.

We decided on a brand, style, and coil count.  My back was hurting and Jason had to study.  We were ready to pay and leave.

Somehow, as Thomas entered our address for delivery and reviewed the payment information, he mentioned that he was studying for the Minnesota Bar.  Naturally interested, we asked what type of law he wanted to practice.  Thomas went on to explain that he was also writing his dissertation for a second Ph.D and was selling furniture on the side.

It would be worth noting here that Thomas was balding and appeared to be almost 50.

He then proceeded to list off his 5 undergraduate degrees, 5 masters, and 2 doctorates, including the corresponding universities and areas of specialty.  I didn’t really know what to say.  Like I said, we were ready to pay and go home.  But the conversation continued, especially when it came up that I was starting graduate school in the fall in rhetorical studies.  His dissertation is on the political rhetoric of Chinese engineers.  So he had an opinion.

By the time we finished an hour later, new pillows and mattress protector in tow, we were exhausted.

Over the past few days I’ve thought a lot about our conversation with Thomas.  He’s invested a significant amount of time, money, and life into his education.  I’m sure he knows a great deal.  He’s been successful and he obviously enjoys it.

But what next?

Education is a tricky thing.  You can pursue knowledge to know a lot and talk about what you know.  Or you can  pursue knowledge to broaden your understanding of the world and use this knowledge to impact lives.  There’s something beautiful about studying a budding tulip just for the sake of appreciating the smell and the color, delicate petals and sleek form.  But at some point, this beauty will cause you to appreciate life more deeply, notice flowers more frequently, be thankful for the new life of spring.

It’s the same way with education and knowledge.  I love reading Dante just for the beauty of the words.  But he also challenges me and deepens my wonder for God.

In the end, our encounter with Thomas left me sad.  At some point, his pursuit of knowledge and intellectual mastery will disappoint.  The gift of understanding will turn sour if we don’t seek to learn and grow and be humble and change.  I think it’s the difference between a student and a learner.

My hope is that I’ll be an ongoing learner instead of a perpetual student.

During my freshman year at Hillsdale College, two year-long classes dominated the curriculum: Western Heritage / American Heritage and Rhetoric and the Great Books I & II. 

Our introduction to ancient civilization was drawn from original texts – the Book of Genesis and The Code of Hammurabi.  To learn about ancient Greece, we studied Pericles’ Funeral Oration – and then discussed how his rhetoric influenced America’s Founding Fathers. 

We read The Odyssey and The Aeneid and The Divine Comedy by Dante.  We didn’t just read about them or overviews of them – we read them.  I’ll never forget the day Dr. Smith told us we’d be reading The Divine Comedy in it’s entirety.  I think we all gasped.  But soon I discovered the beauty and sheer genius of his poetry, and I was hooked.  I laughed out loud at his metaphors and wit.  I wrote down quotes on plain note cards and used them as bookmarks.  I still use them today.

My point is this: reading others changes you.  You learn and grow and form new ideas and think new thoughts and slowly, over time, become more of yourself in a deeper, fuller sort of way. 

Just as traveling abroad expands your horizons and changes your perspective, reading others – their opinions and observations and what they think is important – teaches you something new.  And even if you don’t agree with everything you read, you’re still learning.

So what does this have to do with speechwriting?

Good question.  More to come tomorrow.