 by Dr. Jeffrey Lant. Author's program note. There it was, in his obituary. The smallest of details and yet as every good writer knows, such vignettes are telling, revealing unexpected insights into the subject at hand. And so with the utmost economy of language, comes the unexpected clue.. There he was just a moment or two from where I'm writing you now here in Cambridge. It was 8 p.m. or so, the time when our civilized ancestors dined. The fine old silver lay gleaming on the cloth. The food was simple but expertly prepared; both parties took pleasure in their culinary skills. The candles were lit, thereby providing a soft suggestive shadowing which no Edison could conjure, immensely flattering at any age. His lady Margaret Marshall, retired chief justice of the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court, was present, dispensing a look that was all hers... and when she bestowed it, all his. She had the secret to his heart, and this, their important daily ritual proved it. It was a joyous occasion; it always is when two people find their soul mates, and keep them. The final touch, the quite necessary element, was music... tonight it was Schubert, Franz Peter Schubert (1797-1828) and his "Lebesbotschaft"... "Love's message" from "Schwanengesang". It was the far-too-early final collection of the master's songs. Find it now in any search engine, turn off the lights, light a candle... "Murmuring brooklet/ So silvery bright, Hurry to my beloved/ So fast and light." Simply perfection. No wonder Queen Victoria and Prince Albert with an empire of talent to command summoned young Schubert's genius to make their royal homes gemutlichkeit. This is a glimpse of the gentle, loving life of Anthony Lewis and you need to know these candles were lit nightly. Then was there peace, elegance, serenity... and the opportunity to renew before tomorrow's battles... for this kind and empathetic man was also a great warrior, doing battle for the Constitution of the United States, the most important single document ever produced by our species. >From privilege to acute perception. Joseph Anthony Lewis was born in New York City, into a life of privilege. He edited the school newspaper at Horace Mann School in the Bronx, then went to Harvard College, from which he graduated in 1948. At Harvard he was by his own admission an indifferent student who enjoyed Cambridge but neglected his work, pulling all-nighters as necessary. It was a way of impressing, even astonishing one's equally nonchalant peers. Later in life he changed his ways and became through dint of hard work and constant effort a savant, recognized for his broad interests and wide perceptions. He wore his learning lightly, eager to share not to impress, for he was an educator believing others could improve their lots if they were given the means and the necessary assistance to do so. However, it was not clear just yet what his own special role in the process of improvement could be. And then he spent a summer as a copy boy at The New York Times... and he knew... He wanted causes to fight for, clever colleagues who were no respecters of persons but only of truth... he wanted to find the right words and wield them for good... he wanted a better world... and he wanted to shape that world, not just watch it all go by whilst he did nothing more than read about the struggles of real people and how they fought for their humanity, for their dignity, for their hard-earned self respect. He needed just one more thing... but it was an absolutely essential thing; he needed a sense of moral outrage. For there can be no real progress where there is no rage against the prevailing injustices which are everywhere around us. It is not enough to report on them, turning the brightest of lights on whatever is found under each rock. It is not enough to say, "Here, here there is evil" and let events take their course. No, not nearly enough. One must be committed not just to revealing facts, but to changing lives. And this takes vision, anger, commitment and love, for without love there is nothing. After all what is outrage but love focused to achieve meaningful results? Anthony Lewis' journey to outrage and transformation began when he worked for Adlai Stevenson's 1952 presidential campaign. It matured when he began reporting for The Washington Daily News. In the capital of the Great Republic, noble sentiments and high flying rhetoric everywhere apparent, he discovered he had the gift of rage, for there he saw how real people lived, especially Black people who endured lived shocking lives, segregated lives, lives afflicting so many, outraging too few. The reality of these lives appalled him and gave him purpose, resolution and a well spring of necessary indignation. He was now ready for action... Toward's "Gideon's Trumpet." He wrote a series of articles on the case of Abraham Chasanow, a civilian employee of the U.S. Navy. He had been dismissed from his job on the basis of allegations by anonymous informers that he was associated with anti-American subversives. The series garnered Lewis a Pulitzer Prize for National Reporting in 1955. He was just 7 years out of Harvard and The Crimson which he had managed. He was now recognizably the man of liberal outlook and progressive ideas he remained for the rest of his life. Lewis returned to The New York Times that year as its Washington Bureau Chief. He was assigned to cover the Justice Department and the Supreme Court. He won another Pulitzer Prize for National Reporting in 1963. The citation singled out his coverage of the court's reasoning in "Baker v. Carr", a Supreme Court decision that held the federal courts could exercise the authority of legislative redistricting on the part of states, and the decision's impact on specific states. These were Lewis' glory years when in his 1969 history of the Times, Gay Talese described him as "cool, lean, well-scrubbed looking, intense and brilliant." But greater glory -- and lasting significance -- was yet to come. "Gideon v. Wainwright." During a four-month newspaper strike, Lewis wrote "Gideon's Trumpet", the story of Clarence Earl Gideon, the plaintiff in "Gideon v. Wainwright", the 1963 case in which the Supreme Court held that states were required to provide counsel for indigent defendants charged with serious crimes. This was arguably the most influential legal book ever written. Lewis was now in uncharted waters, inventing a whole new genre of journalism, reporting that covered not only what the courts said, particularly the U.S. Supreme Court, but how they said it, how they arrived at that point and the nuances of their opinions. It was, in short, how people create living, breathing institutions that meet the changing needs of each generation, for to be effective the law must be flexible, have latitude, and use its profound intellect and common sense -- not just precedence -- to approach the high standard of justice, for all. Lewis knew rights for only some make for uncertainty for all. And so Lewis joined the justices who believed rights must continually be fought for, never taken for granted, never ignored, never assumed. And because such talk and such positions roiled the radicals who called themselves conservatives they spat the ugliest words they could conceive at Lewis, calling him an intellectual, a progressive, un-American, and of course liberal, the ugliest and most insulting of all. He wore each epithet as a medal of honor and took joy in his critics, for if a man is known by the company he keeps, so likewise by the company he eschews and disdains. "Amicus curiae" Having found his metier, he pursued it with the utmost energy and thoughtfulness. He knew how valuable his particular gift was, although he probably never said so. And so there followed one insightful book after another; "Portrait of a Decade: The Second American Revolution" (1964), about the civil rights movement. Then in 1991 he published "Make No Law", an account of "New York Times v. Sullivan", the 1964 Supreme Court decision that revolutionized American libel law. And so he became "Amicus curiae", the friend of the court... understanding, venerating, explicating, scrutinizing... and all with decency, empathy, humanity, for these were the hallmarks of Anthony Lewis, a man of equanimity, fairness, balance and always kindness, particularly where there had been so little kindness before. Now he is gone... It is customary in this kind of article to state and remind us that we shall not see his like again. However, with Anthony Lewis that may be nothing other than the God's honest truth. Not just because of his erudition and graceful prose; not just because of his point of view and steadfast commitment to protecting the rights of all citizens. These are factors, but they are not the reason. That has to do with the journalistic medium he mastered and made all his own. And this medium, as any child can see, is dying by inches as the Internet eviscerates all opposition. Thus, the most lamentable thing of all is that The New York Times is dwindling and with it the ability to afford the features that made it great and improved lives. Thus, with the death of Anthony Lewis, one of its greatest talents, we may also be saying adieu to the institution that supported and sustained him... and which in turn supported and sustained our crucial rights as citizens. And this is a tragedy indeed, for all of us and for our Great Republic whose citizens have lost a great paladin but not the abiding need for him. About the Author Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc. at www.worldprofit.com, providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. To see Dr. Lant's blog go to www.jeffreylantarticles.com Dr. Lant is happy to give all readers 50,000 free guaranteed visitors for attending his live webcast today. Visit Worldprofit for details. Your response to this article is requested. What do you think? Let Dr. Lant know by posting your comments below. Smart Tips For Your Personal And Business Success Today.......... Anthony Lewis, voice of sense and sensibility, amicus curiae. Dead at 85, Monday, March 25, 2013. And so are we all diminished. by Dr. Jeffrey Lant. Author's program note. There it was, in his obituary. The smallest of details and yet as every good writer knows, such vignettes are telling, revealing unexpected insights into the subject at hand. And so with the utmost economy of language, comes the unexpected clue.. There he was just a moment or two from where I'm writing you now here in Cambridge. It was 8 p.m. or so, the time when our civilized ancestors dined. The fine old silver lay gleaming on the cloth. The food was simple but expertly prepared; both parties took pleasure in their culinary skills. The candles were lit, thereby providing a soft suggestive shadowing which no Edison could conjure, immensely flattering at any age. His lady Margaret Marshall, retired chief justice of the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court, was present, dispensing a look that was all hers... and when she bestowed it, all his. She had the secret to his heart, and this, their important daily ritual proved it. It was a joyous occasion; it always is when two people find their soul mates, and keep them. The final touch, the quite necessary element, was music... tonight it was Schubert, Franz Peter Schubert (1797-1828) and his "Lebesbotschaft"... "Love's message" from "Schwanengesang". It was the far-too-early final collection of the master's songs. Find it now in any search engine, turn off the lights, light a candle... "Murmuring brooklet/ So silvery bright, Hurry to my beloved/ So fast and light." Simply perfection. No wonder Queen Victoria and Prince Albert with an empire of talent to command summoned young Schubert's genius to make their royal homes gemutlichkeit. This is a glimpse of the gentle, loving life of Anthony Lewis and you need to know these candles were lit nightly. Then was there peace, elegance, serenity... and the opportunity to renew before tomorrow's battles... for this kind and empathetic man was also a great warrior, doing battle for the Constitution of the United States, the most important single document ever produced by our species. >From privilege to acute perception. Joseph Anthony Lewis was born in New York City, into a life of privilege. He edited the school newspaper at Horace Mann School in the Bronx, then went to Harvard College, from which he graduated in 1948. At Harvard he was by his own admission an indifferent student who enjoyed Cambridge but neglected his work, pulling all-nighters as necessary. It was a way of impressing, even astonishing one's equally nonchalant peers. Later in life he changed his ways and became through dint of hard work and constant effort a savant, recognized for his broad interests and wide perceptions. He wore his learning lightly, eager to share not to impress, for he was an educator believing others could improve their lots if they were given the means and the necessary assistance to do so. However, it was not clear just yet what his own special role in the process of improvement could be. And then he spent a summer as a copy boy at The New York Times... and he knew... He wanted causes to fight for, clever colleagues who were no respecters of persons but only of truth... he wanted to find the right words and wield them for good... he wanted a better world... and he wanted to shape that world, not just watch it all go by whilst he did nothing more than read about the struggles of real people and how they fought for their humanity, for their dignity, for their hard-earned self respect. He needed just one more thing... but it was an absolutely essential thing; he needed a sense of moral outrage. For there can be no real progress where there is no rage against the prevailing injustices which are everywhere around us. It is not enough to report on them, turning the brightest of lights on whatever is found under each rock. It is not enough to say, "Here, here there is evil" and let events take their course. No, not nearly enough. One must be committed not just to revealing facts, but to changing lives. And this takes vision, anger, commitment and love, for without love there is nothing. After all what is outrage but love focused to achieve meaningful results? Anthony Lewis' journey to outrage and transformation began when he worked for Adlai Stevenson's 1952 presidential campaign. It matured when he began reporting for The Washington Daily News. In the capital of the Great Republic, noble sentiments and high flying rhetoric everywhere apparent, he discovered he had the gift of rage, for there he saw how real people lived, especially Black people who endured lived shocking lives, segregated lives, lives afflicting so many, outraging too few. The reality of these lives appalled him and gave him purpose, resolution and a well spring of necessary indignation. He was now ready for action... Toward's "Gideon's Trumpet." He wrote a series of articles on the case of Abraham Chasanow, a civilian employee of the U.S. Navy. He had been dismissed from his job on the basis of allegations by anonymous informers that he was associated with anti-American subversives. The series garnered Lewis a Pulitzer Prize for National Reporting in 1955. He was just 7 years out of Harvard and The Crimson which he had managed. He was now recognizably the man of liberal outlook and progressive ideas he remained for the rest of his life. Lewis returned to The New York Times that year as its Washington Bureau Chief. He was assigned to cover the Justice Department and the Supreme Court. He won another Pulitzer Prize for National Reporting in 1963. The citation singled out his coverage of the court's reasoning in "Baker v. Carr", a Supreme Court decision that held the federal courts could exercise the authority of legislative redistricting on the part of states, and the decision's impact on specific states. These were Lewis' glory years when in his 1969 history of the Times, Gay Talese described him as "cool, lean, well-scrubbed looking, intense and brilliant." But greater glory -- and lasting significance -- was yet to come. "Gideon v. Wainwright." During a four-month newspaper strike, Lewis wrote "Gideon's Trumpet", the story of Clarence Earl Gideon, the plaintiff in "Gideon v. Wainwright", the 1963 case in which the Supreme Court held that states were required to provide counsel for indigent defendants charged with serious crimes. This was arguably the most influential legal book ever written. Lewis was now in uncharted waters, inventing a whole new genre of journalism, reporting that covered not only what the courts said, particularly the U.S. Supreme Court, but how they said it, how they arrived at that point and the nuances of their opinions. It was, in short, how people create living, breathing institutions that meet the changing needs of each generation, for to be effective the law must be flexible, have latitude, and use its profound intellect and common sense -- not just precedence -- to approach the high standard of justice, for all. Lewis knew rights for only some make for uncertainty for all. And so Lewis joined the justices who believed rights must continually be fought for, never taken for granted, never ignored, never assumed. And because such talk and such positions roiled the radicals who called themselves conservatives they spat the ugliest words they could conceive at Lewis, calling him an intellectual, a progressive, un-American, and of course liberal, the ugliest and most insulting of all. He wore each epithet as a medal of honor and took joy in his critics, for if a man is known by the company he keeps, so likewise by the company he eschews and disdains. "Amicus curiae" Having found his metier, he pursued it with the utmost energy and thoughtfulness. He knew how valuable his particular gift was, although he probably never said so. And so there followed one insightful book after another; "Portrait of a Decade: The Second American Revolution" (1964), about the civil rights movement. Then in 1991 he published "Make No Law", an account of "New York Times v. Sullivan", the 1964 Supreme Court decision that revolutionized American libel law. And so he became "Amicus curiae", the friend of the court... understanding, venerating, explicating, scrutinizing... and all with decency, empathy, humanity, for these were the hallmarks of Anthony Lewis, a man of equanimity, fairness, balance and always kindness, particularly where there had been so little kindness before. Now he is gone... It is customary in this kind of article to state and remind us that we shall not see his like again. However, with Anthony Lewis that may be nothing other than the God's honest truth. Not just because of his erudition and graceful prose; not just because of his point of view and steadfast commitment to protecting the rights of all citizens. These are factors, but they are not the reason. That has to do with the journalistic medium he mastered and made all his own. And this medium, as any child can see, is dying by inches as the Internet eviscerates all opposition. Thus, the most lamentable thing of all is that The New York Times is dwindling and with it the ability to afford the features that made it great and improved lives. Thus, with the death of Anthony Lewis, one of its greatest talents, we may also be saying adieu to the institution that supported and sustained him... and which in turn supported and sustained our crucial rights as citizens. And this is a tragedy indeed, for all of us and for our Great Republic whose citizens have lost a great paladin but not the abiding need for him. |
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