I Have a Dreamgirl

Yesterday, at my day job, which involves answering telephones and helping people with technical issues related to their applications for federal government grants, I stood up to stretch and suddenly felt the need to sing the old Supremes' song, "Where Did Our Love Go?"

These moments happen to everyone, I believe --- not necessarily a desire to suddenly channel Diana Ross and burst into song in an inappropriate setting --- but to release pent-up energy and shake the cobwebs from one's brain. Some people may shadow-box; others may go outside and smoke a cigarette. Small children have it down to a science --- when all else fails, you simply start spinning in circles.

But in any case, seeing and hearing a husky, 50-something man suddenly stand up and, with appropriate Dreamgirls hand gestures, start warbling, "Baby, Baby, Baby, Where did our love go? Oh, don't you want me? Don't you want me no more? ..." --- well, it does cause them to look up from their computer screens and take notice.

"You can't be Diana Ross in here," one of my co-workers, a friendly guy in his late twenties, said.

I became indignant and immediately turned into Flip Wilson's old Geraldine character.

"What you mean I can't be Diana Ross?" I said. "You saying because that just because I am a white man I can't be a black woman? Honey, I'm telling you, that is discrimination! That is hate speech! This is a matter to take up with the Human Resources office! And as soon as I can find two people to be Mary Wilson and Cindy Birdsong I'm going to do just that!"

(Now before I continue, I want to state that I realize that many people regard Ms. Birdsong as a zaftig usurper who replaced the original Third Supreme, the late Florence Ballard, but I referenced Cindy because I think her name is funnier than Flo's.)

In any case, the joke was well received and we all went back to work. But it also got me thinking about the recent Martin Luther King holiday and the current U.S. presidential election.

We officially observe Martin Luther King day because the late civil rights leader continues to be ranked among the most influential and inspirational Americans of the 20th century. He is remembered for his eloquent speeches evoking peaceful change and progress in the world and for his call for all people to be judged on "the content of their character" and not the color of their skins and, by implication, the way they worship God, and, by implication, their genders and sexual orientation.

If it weren't for the efforts of King and other people of all ethnic, racial, religious backgrounds, genders and sexual orientations, I probably would not be able to stand up as an openly gay man in my office and joke about wanting to be Diana Ross. The key word here is "open" --- I've made no bones about the fact that I share my life with another man and am proud of the picture of the two of us together that I keep on my desk. Camping it up and pretending that I want to be a black woman is a joke I would probably not be able to pull off if I remained in the closet --- my co-workers, who might suspect I was gay, would wonder if I was joking or serious and just give me a blank look. But because I've made it clear who I am --- a middle-aged gay guy who also happens to be a biological father --- they feel they know enough about me to know when I'm joking and making fun of stereotypes.

In other words, I was judged by the content of my character and not unclarified assumptions about what I was doing and saying. Thank you, Rev. King.

This year, we're seeing a quantum leap in the fulfillment of Martin Luther King's dream: The final two candidates for the Democratic nomination for president are (may I have the envelope, please) ... Hillary Rodham Clinton, a woman, and Barack Obama, a mixed-race man whose father is a black man from Kenya. With John Edwards, the third-strongest candidate among the Democrats, now withdrawn from the race, it is inevitable that the Democrats will make history this year by nominating a presidential candidate who is not a white man. Whether it's Clinton or Obama, it's obvious a glass ceiling --- gender or race --- is going to be broken through.

Of course, whether Senator Clinton or Senator Obama gets the nomination, they will still have to run against the white male the Republicans select for president this year. And the highest glass ceiling --- the one that covers the Oval Office in the White House --- may have to wait until another election. But this year, it's obvious that Democrat voters, at least, already are looking beyond color and gender and at the character of their two finalists.

I am still undecided about who I am supporting for president --- Clinton and Obama (and Edwards) are/(were) strong candidates with platforms with which I am comfortable, for the most part. All of them stop short of supporting a key issue for me --- that all people, regardless of sexual orientation, may have equal access to marriage or civil unions under federal law --- and so, I am withholding judgment until the Democrat convention. I will support whoever the Democrat nominee is because it is obvious that another Republican president will simply cause more of the social stagnation and economic recession that we have experienced during the last eight years under the incompetent "leadership" of George W. Bush.

If Al Gore were running for president again, I would be whole-heartedly supporting him --- he's had the cojones to support equal status for same-sex partners, at least. But he's not, and Clinton and Obama (and Edwards) are playing/(played) it safe.

But I can put up with compromise --- for now. Lord knows we gay folks have put up with it before. It's enough for me this year to see that part of Martin Luther King's dream of equal access for all people is being fulfilled. The American people have the opportunity to put a woman or a black man in the White House and no one has to report anyone to the Human Resources office to do that.

And it's nice to know that I can be Diana Ross if I want to, even if I don't pass the physical.

Being Where You're Supposed to Be

At my co-worker's invitation, the lady sat down and joined us at our table in the workplace lunchroom.

I'm new to the company for which I'm working and so every day provides an opportunity to make a new acquaintance and hear a fresh human story.

In this case, the lady originally was from Ohio, just like me, and so I used that as a starting point for conversation.

"What brought you down here to eastern Kentucky?" I asked politely.

"Oh, it was my brother's death," she said, explaining that he was killed in a truck accident.

I figured she meant she came for his funeral and decided to stay. She said that was not the case --- he actually was killed in Texas, and that was a sign she needed to make a change in her life.

Confused, I said so.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said. "But I don't get how it brought you to Kentucky."

She explained, in a rambling fashion, that his death triggered a religious reawakening in her and somehow that led her to Appalachia, one Kentucky county away from the Tennessee-Virginia border. She then, in a pleasant way, started to describe how the Lord was doing good things in her life these days and she felt like she was on the right track.

Now, I have to admit, that I am wary of anyone that just comes up and discusses their religious beliefs with strangers. To me, it's a social faux pas, akin to bad-mouthing a local politician before first finding out if you're talking to one of his relatives.

But on the other hand, the lady seemed pleasant enough, and I thought, "What the hell," --- which, looking back, was perhaps not entirely in keeping with her line of thought --- and decided to pick up on her thread.

"Well, I agree, that sometimes if you just follow your instincts, you might just end up where God wants you to be," I said. "I think that's what happened to me."

She beamed.

"Oh, what brought YOU to Kentucky?" she asked eagerly, no doubt expecting a story about a similar tragedy involving a deceased relative.

"Well, it was romance," I said. "I met someone online from this area and within six months I had moved down here. That was a year and a half ago and we're still together and very happy."

Although it was not the tale of gore she seemed to be hoping for, she still smiled.

"And you two are planning to get married?" she asked.

I hesitated for one of those moments in which one has to decide whether it's better to end the conversation with a simple "yes" or "no," or use the moment to do some diversity education. I decided I had the energy to elaborate and said, "No, we can't get married."

Her brow furrowed.

"Why not?"

"Well, it's because he and I aren't allowed to in this state."

All the happy energy drained from her body and her eyes glazed over. Uh-huh, I thought.

"It's not that we're against the institution of marriage," I said, feeling the little gay horns trying to force their way out of my shaved head. "Between us, we've been married and divorced from three different women. When we met each other, I guess we finally figured out what we were doing wrong."

She laughed, despite herself, but then got all serious again. I saw her eyes dart around the lunchroom, looking for someone else she knew so she could get away.

"But just the same," I continued. "I know exactly what you mean about God leading you in a particular direction. Why every morning, when my man and I wake up in each other's arms, we know that God is blessing us. It would be nice to have a ceremony to celebrate that blessing, but it would primarily be for others and not us. We already know God loves us."

I smiled sweetly and then helped her out by saying, "Well, break's over. Better get back to work. See you around."

The relief in her eyes was evident.

And as I walked back to work, I knew what it's like to be a Jack-in-the-Box and not on the receiving end of the surprise.

Blessed to the Final Departure

I love what my parents made of their marriage, which lasted 63 years.

By the time the love story of Clifton and Minnie Spires ended on Jan. 15, 1999 --- that's the day Dad died of pneumonia in a hospital bed in Gallipolis, Ohio, they had outlived many of their contemporaries and were inspirations to many younger generations as individuals and as a couple who succeeded in combining their lives.

My sister, who has been married four times (once divorced, twice widowed) and I (thrice coupled, twice divorced) will never know what it is like to sleep and wake up with the same person for more than six decades, but at present we are both hopeful that at the end, it will be our spouses who are there for us.

Ultimately, of course, we wake up with and die by ourselves. Dad technically died alone in his hospital bed and was found by nurses. About a year and a half later, Mother was in an assisted-care center, where she was found on the floor in her room --- her mighty soul simply stepped out of her frail body and left it behind. Their deaths remind me of a line from Billy Joel's "My Life:"

They will tell you, you can't sleep alone in a strange place

Then they'll tell you, you can't sleep with somebody else

Oh, but sooner or later ,you sleep in your own space

Either way, it's OK, you wake up with yourself

People wake up alone, even with a warm body beside them. And they die the same way, despite what Hollywood would have us believe about Merle Oberon going cold and limp in Laurence Olivier's arms or Ali MacGraw saying one last goodbye to Ryan O'Neal. We just stop and whatever happens next to what's inside of us is the next great mystery to discover.

Life can be a lonely journey, and it helps if someone is there along the way. In my case, I spent half a century looking for the one person who could make me feel like I have a little bit of what my parents had, and I believe I've found him. As I've said on countless occasions, I don't believe Robert and I need to go through a church ceremony for a benediction on our relationship --- every day we wake up in each other's arms, we know God is blessing us.

Robert, an English professor, and I, with my increasing involvement in gay civil rights organizations and issues, find ourselves often surrounded by "young people" --- which, to us, is anyone younger than us. When these folks compliment our relationship --- often by speaking of us as a two-person unit or by treating it like any heterosexual couple's --- I realize that I am starting to achieve what my parents had together: Knowledge of what it is like to love and be loved on a 24/7 basis. It is deep and complex and rich and unique in its layers and emotions, and yet very commonplace and mundane. When something is right, it becomes extraordinary and ordinary at the same time. A good marriage is something that just IS and one day you wake up and find that you've accomplished one of the great achievements in life, simply by rolling over and touching the person who is snoring peacefully next to you.

My mother wanted Dad to die in his own bed, and she tried to keep that promise to him until the very end. But with her own health declining, and him succumbing to the after-effects of heart disease, stroke and Alzheimer's, she finally had to give in to her children's selfishness: "Please put him in a nursing home and hold on for a little while longer by yourself --- we can handle losing one of you, but not both at the same time."

And so, Dad was hospitalized for a week while Sis and I drove Mother around in search of a place where he could be cared for while he died. It proved to be unnecessary: Dad's time to move on came while he was in the hospital.

Alzheimer's Disease gallops through my family's medical history --- my father and all five of his siblings developed it; for their aging children, family reunions are a time to study the behavior of first cousins and siblings and wonder, "Is he or she going to be the next one to get it? Because the odds are 50-50 that I could get it, I worry about being a burden to Robert, who is three years younger than me, and my younger son, who already has gone through the experience of having to be a caregiver for his own mother.

On a purely selfish level, I worry about dying alone --- which I understand I will do anyway, even if Robert is there holding my hand. When my time comes, I, like everyone else, will do what I have to do to take the next eternal step, but it would be nice if I could have a loved one --- particularly the man I regard as my husband --- next to me.

Although I feel the world is changing in favor of accepting same-sex relationships as legitimate, I am aware that, in America, at least, there are no guarantees that Robert and I will be allowed to be at each other's sides should we be hospitalized. I trust and want him to be the one who makes decisions, in my inability to do so, about my health care and, when the times comes, termination of life. And, if it is possible, I would like him to be holding my hand (I just can't see him carrying me to the window and staring out at the moors like Heathcliff and Cathy in "Wuthering Heights"), just as my parents would have preferred to be together when Dad moved on.

But the way America's laws are set up, there are no guarantees, from state to state, city to city, hospital to hospital, that we, as a same-sex couple, can be together. And so, we and other couples like us, have to pre-plan everything. There's no guarantee that when the time comes, we will be granted the right to say goodbye one last time.

Robert and I don't have enough years left to match my parents' record of successful marriage. But we want the quality of our lives together to be similar to theirs, lived in an extraordinary peace that allows us to be together until the very end. And that peace has to include the peace of mind of knowing that no arbitrary and unfair outside forces will conspire to separate us --- if we die alone, it will be God's purpose, not man's. But if we are able to be together at one or the other's departure from the world, it will simply be a continued blessing.

Insurance Priorities

Yesterday, I was headed from my home in Middlesboro, Kentucky to my job in Barbourville, about 40 miles north, when a pickup truck driven by a woman with a baby in her back seat sheared off my front bumper.

I won't bog down this column with the details of how the accident occurred, other than noon rush hour traffic undoubtedly played a factor. I was not cited, and to my knowledge, neither was the other driver, whose truck was damaged worse than my PT Cruiser. And fortunately, neither driver nor the baby were seriously injured, although it was obvious that all of us were very shaken up by the experience.

It's hard to say what one's first concern is in such a situation --- I remember trying to operate a new cell phone and call 911, but I was too disoriented and shocked by the events to make it happen. Fortunately, an EMS squad happened to be driving near the scene so everyone involved was immediately attended to. I had no cuts, no bruises, knew what day it was and could move my fingers and toes, so it was left up to me as to whether I would appreciate a trip to the hospital to be checked out.

I hesitated. In the early 1990s, I experienced a series of whiplash injuries to my neck and upper back, caused by a pair of falls and another automobile accident, and they still aggravate me with stiffness and pain. Back then, I immediately sought medical attention. My employers provided adequate insurance coverage which covered emergency room visits.

But yesterday, which would have been my next-to-last day at my current phase of employment --- I start a new position with the same company on Monday --- I did not have health insurance. If I went to the hospital and let them X-ray my neck and back and prescribe painkillers "just in case" I experienced pain, the payment would come out of my own pocket.

And so, I declined the young EMS man's offer to transport me to the hospital --- it was an offer I couldn't afford this week. As it happens, if the accident occurred next week, when I start my new job, I would be covered by my employer's health insurance plan, as I will be stepping up into a new category that allows that option. It will be a relief as I will be able to afford the increasing number of medications that the aging process is bringing into my life and I will be able to afford an emergency room visit should I ever be able to restore my car and let some woman in a pickup truck hit it again.

Sadly, what I am experiencing right now is pretty much what a lot of people in Appalachian Kentucky --- and much of America --- are going through. Some people have to make a daily choice between tending to the health of one's car, putting food on the table, getting the utility bills paid and going to a doctor for preventive or cautionary health care. In some of the worst cases, it becomes a matter of food vs. gasoline vs. prescriptions, and some people can only afford only one of these, if any.

The New York Times recently published a lengthy report (accessible at http://www.blogger.com/) about what an editorial in the Lexington News-Herald described as "the deplorable state of dental health in Kentucky." Seems the folks in the Empire State had just noticed the gaps in the teeth of their hillbilly cousins down in the Commonwealth of Kentucky and realized that the cause had a lot to do with lack of access to and inability to afford proper health care.

No big news in Barbourville, which was a central focus of the Times article --- heck, all I have to do is look around at the gaping holes in the smiles of several of my co-workers and I can see what growing up without being able to afford regular visits to a dentist can cause. Likewise, improper nutrition contributes to poor dental health, as can certain untreated childhood illnesses. When these problems go on for generations, a tendency toward dental problems becomes a hereditary issue.

It would seem that improving health care access would be the perfect starting point for the state government, which just elected a new Democrat governor last November after four years of incompetence from an inept Republican administration. While the state legislature's two houses remain divided in party leadership --- the House majority is Democratic; the Senate's is Republican --- it still is obvious that health care should be a bipartisan concern, one that should be put at the forefront of all other issues.

Consequently, it was very disappointing to discover that two of the state representatives from Kentucky's poorest districts --- Richard Henderson and Ancel Smith, both Democrats --- decided to look away from more important health care issues and do some election-year posturing on the Republican issue of health care for the domestic partners of state universities.

In December, Henderson and Smith, with a lot of Republican backing, chose to become the primary sponsors of a renewed effort to legislate prevention of state universities' right to decide will be offered health care accessibility. Some universities --- particularly the University of Kentucky and the University of Louisville --- already offer health care inclusion to the domestic partners, gay or straight, of their employees.

Henderson and Smith, and their co-sponsors, which sadly include Rep. Rick Nelson from my own House district, claim that the issue is a moral one because it does not reflect the religious interests of the conservative Christians in their districts. Henderson, in particular, claims to have received thousands of calls from constituents, which would mean the people of his district are obsessed with denying health care benefits to unmarried couples far beyond their concerns about general health care, educational needs and jobs, and certainly at a rate well beyond most other House districts.

My personal opinion is that Henderson, a freshman representative wanting to impress the voters in an election year, is, shall we say, "exaggerating" the number of calls received.

I have written to Rick Nelson about my concerns over his co-sponsorship and am awaiting a reply. It seems odd for a man who represents a district where the general health care issues are so obvious that they gained the attention of a nationally-circulated New York newspaper to be focused on an issue that boils down to DENYING people health care access.

This week, in the Lexington News-Herald, there was published a letter supporting the Smith-Henderson bill and taking issue with the News-Herald's opposition to it. The letter-writer, a Terry Thornsberry of Martin, Kentucky, described himself as a small business employer of 25 people and described what sounded like legitimate concerns about the rising costs for people like himself who are responsible for insuring their employees.

My response to private employers with similar concerns is this: My employer, which has many more than 25 workers, offers full coverage for its employees, but additional coverage for family members --- including domestic partners, under certain circumstances --- requires co-payment from the employee. This seems like a satisfactory arrangement that deals with the concerns expressed by Thornsberry, i.e., "Who watches the bedroom to determine who is a legitimate partner and who is an uninsured friend?"

The answer is that when some of the cost of adding an insuree to an employee's health care plan comes out of that employee's paycheck, the unlikelihood of abuse decreases, rather than increases.

And so, as I go off to deal with getting a new front bumper on my car (and don't even start on the subject of affordable car insurance --- I have liability only), I console myself with two thoughts: My own domestic partner, an employee of a state community college, has his own insurance plan which, at present does not include me. And next week, I will be covered so that if my past back injury starts acting up, I can afford to see a doctor about it.

I just hope a little aspirin will get me through the weekend.

Insurance Priorities

Yesterday, I was headed from my home in Middlesboro, Kentucky to my job in Barbourville, about 40 miles north, when a pickup truck driven by a woman with a baby in her back seat sheared off my front bumper. I won't bog down this column with the details of how the accident occurred, other than noon rush hour traffic undoubtedly played a factor. I was not cited, and to my knowledge, neither was the other driver, whose truck was damaged worse than my PT Cruiser. And fortunately, neither driver nor the baby were seriously injured, although it was obvious that all of us were very shaken up by the experience. It's hard to say what one's first concern is in such a situation --- I remember trying to operate a new cell phone and call 911, but I was too disoriented and shocked by the events to make it happen. Fortunately, an EMS squad happened to be driving near the scene so everyone involved was immediately attended to. I had no cuts, no bruises, knew what day it was and could move my fingers and toes, so it was left up to me as to whether I would appreciate a trip to the hospital to be checked out. I hesitated. In the early 1990s, I experienced a series of whiplash injuries to my neck and upper back, caused by a pair of falls and another automobile accident, and they still aggravate me with stiffness and pain. Back then, I immediately sought medical attention. My employers provided adequate insurance coverage which covered emergency room visits. But yesterday, which would have been my next-to-last day at my current phase of employment --- I start a new position with the same company on Monday --- I did not have health insurance. If I went to the hospital and let them X-ray my neck and back and prescribe painkillers "just in case" I experienced pain, the payment would come out of my own pocket. And so, I declined the young EMS man's offer to transport me to the hospital --- it was an offer I couldn't afford this week. As it happens, if the accident occurred next week, when I start my new job, I would be covered by my employer's health insurance plan, as I will be stepping up into a new category that allows that option. It will be a relief as I will be able to afford the increasing number of medications that the aging process is bringing into my life and I will be able to afford an emergency room visit should I ever be able to restore my car and let some woman in a pickup truck hit it again. Sadly, what I am experiencing right now is pretty much what a lot of people in Appalachian Kentucky --- and much of America --- are going through. Some people have to make a daily choice between tending to the health of one's car, putting food on the table, getting the utility bills paid and going to a doctor for preventive or cautionary health care. In some of the worst cases, it becomes a matter of food vs. gasoline vs. prescriptions, and some people can only afford only one of these, if any. The New York Times recently published a lengthy report (accessible at www.nytimes.com/2007/12/24/us/24kentucky.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin) about what an editorial in the Lexington News-Herald described as "the deplorable state of dental health in Kentucky." Seems the folks in the Empire State had just noticed the gaps in the teeth of their hillbilly cousins down in the Commonwealth of Kentucky and realized that the cause had a lot to do with lack of access to and inability to afford proper health care. No big news in Barbourville, which was a central focus of the Times article --- heck, all I have to do is look around at the gaping holes in the smiles of several of my co-workers and I can see what growing up without being able to afford regular visits to a dentist can cause. Likewise, improper nutrition contributes to poor dental health, as can certain untreated childhood illnesses. When these problems go on for generations, a tendency toward dental problems becomes a hereditary issue. It would seem that improving health care access would be the perfect starting point for the state government, which just elected a new Democrat governor last November after four years of incompetence from an inept Republican administration. While the state legislature's two houses remain divided in party leadership --- the House majority is Democratic; the Senate's is Republican --- it still is obvious that health care should be a bipartisan concern, one that should be put at the forefront of all other issues. Consequently, it was very disappointing to discover that two of the state representatives from Kentucky's poorest districts --- Richard Henderson and Ancel Smith, both Democrats --- decided to look away from more important health care issues and do some election-year posturing on the Republican issue of health care for the domestic partners of state universities. In December, Henderson and Smith, with a lot of Republican backing, chose to become the primary sponsors of a renewed effort to legislate prevention of state universities' right to decide will be offered health care accessibility. Some universities --- particularly the University of Kentucky and the University of Louisville --- already offer health care inclusion to the domestic partners, gay or straight, of their employees. Henderson and Smith, and their co-sponsors, which sadly include Rep. Rick Nelson from my own House district, claim that the issue is a moral one because it does not reflect the religious interests of the conservative Christians in their districts. Henderson, in particular, claims to have received thousands of calls from constituents, which would mean the people of his district are obsessed with denying health care benefits to unmarried couples far beyond their concerns about general health care, educational needs and jobs, and certainly at a rate well beyond most other House districts. My personal opinion is that Henderson, a freshman representative wanting to impress the voters in an election year, is, shall we say, "exaggerating" the number of calls received. I have written to Rick Nelson about my concerns over his co-sponsorship and am awaiting a reply. It seems odd for a man who represents a district where the general health care issues are so obvious that they gained the attention of a nationally-circulated New York newspaper to be focused on an issue that boils down to DENYING people health care access. This week, in the Lexington News-Herald, there was published a letter supporting the Smith-Henderson bill and taking issue with the News-Herald's opposition to it. The letter-writer, a Terry Thornsberry of Martin, Kentucky, described himself as a small business employer of 25 people and described what sounded like legitimate concerns about the rising costs for people like himself who are responsible for insuring their employees. My response to private employers with similar concerns is this: My employer, which has many more than 25 workers, offers full coverage for its employees, but additional coverage for family members --- including domestic partners, under certain circumstances --- requires co-payment from the employee. This seems like a satisfactory arrangement that deals with the concerns expressed by Thornsberry, i.e., "Who watches the bedroom to determine who is a legitimate partner and who is an uninsured friend?" The answer is that when some of the cost of adding an insuree to an employee's health care plan comes out of that employee's paycheck, the unlikelihood of abuse decreases, rather than increases. And so, as I go off to deal with getting a new front bumper on my car (and don't even start on the subject of affordable car insurance --- I have liability only), I console myself with two thoughts: My own domestic partner, an employee of a state community college, has his own insurance plan which, at present does not include me. And next week, I will be covered so that if my past back injury starts acting up, I can afford to see a doctor about it. I just hope a little aspirin will get me through the weekend." name=message>
Yesterday, I was headed from my home in Middlesboro, Kentucky to my job in Barbourville, about 40 miles north, when a pickup truck driven by a woman with a baby in her back seat sheared off my front bumper.
I won't bog down this column with the details of how the accident occurred, other than noon rush hour traffic undoubtedly played a factor. I was not cited, and to my knowledge, neither was the other driver, whose truck was damaged worse than my PT Cruiser. And fortunately, neither driver nor the baby were seriously injured, although it was obvious that all of us were very shaken up by the experience.
It's hard to say what one's first concern is in such a situation --- I remember trying to operate a new cell phone and call 911, but I was too disoriented and shocked by the events to make it happen. Fortunately, an EMS squad happened to be driving near the scene so everyone involved was immediately attended to.
I had no cuts, no bruises, knew what day it was and could move my fingers and toes, so it was left up to me as to whether I would appreciate a trip to the hospital to be checked out.
I hesitated. In the early 1990s, I experienced a series of whiplash injuries to my neck and upper back, caused by a pair of falls and another automobile accident, and they still aggravate me with stiffness and pain. Back then, I immediately sought medical attention. My employers provided adequate insurance coverage which covered emergency room visits.
But yesterday, which would have been my next-to-last day at my current phase of employment --- I start a new position with the same company on Monday --- I did not have health insurance. If I went to the hospital and let them X-ray my neck and back and prescribe painkillers "just in case" I experienced pain, the payment would come out of my own pocket.
And so, I declined the young EMS man's offer to transport me to the hospital --- it was an offer I couldn't afford this week.
As it happens, if the accident occurred next week, when I start my new job, I would be covered by my employer's health insurance plan, as I will be stepping up into a new category that allows that option. It will be a relief as I will be able to afford the increasing number of medications that the aging process is bringing into my life and I will be able to afford an emergency room visit should I ever be able to restore my car and let some woman in a pickup truck hit it again.
Sadly, what I am experiencing right now is pretty much what a lot of people in Appalachian Kentucky --- and much of America --- are going through. Some people have to make a daily choice between tending to the health of one's car, putting food on the table, getting the utility bills paid and going to a doctor for preventive or cautionary health care. In some of the worst cases, it becomes a matter of food vs. gasoline vs. prescriptions, and some people can only afford only one of these, if any.
The New York Times recently published a lengthy report (accessible at www.nytimes.com/2007/12/24/us/24kentucky.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin) about what an editorial in the Lexington News-Herald described as "the deplorable state of dental health in Kentucky." Seems the folks in the Empire State had just noticed the gaps in the teeth of their hillbilly cousins down in the Commonwealth of Kentucky and realized that the cause had a lot to do with lack of access to and inability to afford proper health care.
No big news in Barbourville, which was a central focus of the Times article --- heck, all I have to do is look around at the gaping holes in the smiles of several of my co-workers and I can see what growing up without being able to afford regular visits to a dentist can cause. Likewise, improper nutrition contributes to poor dental health, as can certain untreated childhood illnesses. When these problems go on for generations, a tendency toward dental problems becomes a hereditary issue.
It would seem that improving health care access would be the perfect starting point for the state government, which just elected a new Democrat governor last November after four years of incompetence from an inept Republican administration. While the state legislature's two houses remain divided in party leadership --- the House majority is Democratic; the Senate's is Republican --- it still is obvious that health care should be a bipartisan concern, one that should be put at the forefront of all other issues.
Consequently, it was very disappointing to discover that two of the state representatives from Kentucky's poorest districts --- Richard Henderson and Ancel Smith, both Democrats --- decided to look away from more important health care issues and do some election-year posturing on the Republican issue of health care for the domestic partners of state universities.
In December, Henderson and Smith, with a lot of Republican backing, chose to become the primary sponsors of a renewed effort to legislate prevention of state universities' right to decide will be offered health care accessibility. Some universities --- particularly the University of Kentucky and the University of Louisville --- already offer health care inclusion to the domestic partners, gay or straight, of their employees.
Henderson and Smith, and their co-sponsors, which sadly include Rep. Rick Nelson from my own House district, claim that the issue is a moral one because it does not reflect the religious interests of the conservative Christians in their districts.
Henderson, in particular, claims to have received thousands of calls from constituents, which would mean the people of his district are obsessed with denying health care benefits to unmarried couples far beyond their concerns about general health care, educational needs and jobs, and certainly at a rate well beyond most other House districts. My personal opinion is that Henderson, a freshman representative wanting to impress the voters in an election year, is, shall we say, "exaggerating" the number of calls received.
I have written to Rick Nelson about my concerns over his co-sponsorship and am awaiting a reply. It seems odd for a man who represents a district where the general health care issues are so obvious that they gained the attention of a nationally-circulated New York newspaper to be focused on an issue that boils down to DENYING people health care access.
This week, in the Lexington News-Herald, there was published a letter supporting the Smith-Henderson bill and taking issue with the News-Herald's opposition to it. The letter-writer, a Terry Thornsberry of Martin, Kentucky, described himself as a small business employer of 25 people and described what sounded like legitimate concerns about the rising costs for people like himself who are responsible for insuring their employees.
My response to private employers with similar concerns is this: My employer, which has many more than 25 workers, offers full coverage for its employees, but additional coverage for family members --- including domestic partners, under certain circumstances --- requires co-payment from the employee. This seems like a satisfactory arrangement that deals with the concerns expressed by Thornsberry, i.e., "Who watches the bedroom to determine who is a legitimate partner and who is an uninsured friend?" The answer is that when some of the cost of adding an insuree to an employee's health care plan comes out of that employee's paycheck, the unlikelihood of abuse decreases, rather than increases.
And so, as I go off to deal with getting a new front bumper on my car (and don't even start on the subject of affordable car insurance --- I have liability only), I console myself with two thoughts: My own domestic partner, an employee of a state community college, has his own insurance plan which, at present does not include me. And next week, I will be covered so that if my past back injury starts acting up, I can afford to see a doctor about it.
I just hope a little aspirin will get me through the weekend.

Sadie's Choice

January 6 is observed in many Christian denominations as the Feast of the Epiphany, when Jesus was presented to the world and worshipped by the Magi.

The same date has a sadder resonance for me as one who is a recipient of what has been a dark, unspoken family secret for generations: My grandmother, Sadie Hartley Spires, died of a self-induced abortion.

Sadie was just past 30 years old when she died and already was the mother of six children, ranging from diapers to adolescence, when, in the winter of 1925, she made the decision to seek the help of a midwife and abort what would have been Child No. 7.

Sadie and her husband, Clyde Spires, were, like most people living in southeastern Ohio then, dirt poor. Clyde supported his family --- as his father did --- as a non-union mine worker, a tough, risky job that barely kept the kids in shoes and clothes and would not have provided enough to eat if the family didn't plant their own gardens and bring home wild game to put on the table when they could find it.

The 1920s were supposed to be boom times in much of America, but in Appalachia, times were as lean as they always had been, especially for undereducated and underskilled workers. There was no question of Sadie working outside the home --- there weren't many jobs for women, even if she could find a way of balancing her duties as wife and mother of six with outside employment.

I have no idea what went on in Sadie's mind when she realized she was pregnant again. Poverty breeds domestic strife --- maybe she and Clyde had a fight and she just decided she didn't want to have any more of his children. Maybe she realized they couldn't afford any more. Maybe she was so overwhelmed by premature aging, the sounds of babies crying and older children squabbling and everything else about her life that she just stopped caring. Obviously, she was desperate.

Whatever the reasons, she found someone who would help her and as family legend has it, she used a "penny pencil" or a buttonhook (an archaic device used for lacing corsets and boots) to cause herself to abort.

She died on Jan. 6, 1925, of peritonitis and other complications, leaving Clyde alone with all those kids. He remarried as soon as he could find a woman who would take him and his brood on --- a slatternly ex-prostitute named Wilma, whom the kids despised. The oldest ones, including my dad, Clifton, ran away from home as soon as they could. Only one of the six children, Susan, graduated from high school.

I believe that life is a blessing and should be accepted and celebrated as such. Hence, when I first heard the story of Sadie's self-caused death from my father when I was in my twenties, I was torn emotionally. I never knew Sadie --- none of her grandchildren knew her, and I was born 26 years after her death. But I could tell, from the reminiscences of my father and his siblings who were old enough to remember her, that she had been a remarkable person for her times. She valued education, and hoarded books like they were diamonds and gold. She was tough and outspoken --- when Ku Klux Klansmen appeared at church one Sunday to make a donation, she shook her head and took her entire family, including her father-in-law, out and refused to be a part of such activities. She hid my father behind her skirts and held a gun on her husband one time when Clyde was about to remove his belt to give Clifton a whipping.

All I've ever seen of Sadie were a few faded pictures --- she is gaunt and unsmiling, looking away from the camera as if distracted by her own thoughts or one of her children --- and some locks of her beautiful chestnut hair that were clipped from her corpse and saved by her oldest daughter, Mildred. She is one of the people from the past whom I would give anything to meet, just to say, "Grandma, I know your story second-hand. Tell me."

Abortion was illegal then and a social disgrace. The cause of her death was never discussed around strangers or children. The anguish in my dad's voice when he blurted out the truth to me was that of a man still hurting like the nine-year-old boy who lost his mother in the winter of 1925.

I wish Sadie had lived, as her husband, children and all those who knew her undoubtedly did. She was loved and respected and her death perplexed everyone. She was a good mother, yet she did not want more children, because she wanted to do the best she could for the children she already had. Nowadays, she would be on the pill or practicing some other kind of contraception. Or maybe, she would even have a legal abortion --- the kind that would have reduced the risks for her, if not her unborn child, and allowed her to see her six living children to adulthood and perhaps changed their lives.

My political sympathies on the issue of abortion tend to differ from a lot of the people with whom I share other views on social issues. I believe, in most cases, that babies should be born and given a chance. As a father whose then-wife miscarried twice, I grieve at not being able to hold those babies in my arms. I see children who are abandoned, unloved, growing up in lonely foster homes or foreign orphanages and fantasize about being rich enough and benevolent enough to take them all in.

Yet at this point in my life, I know that I'm too old to raise a baby and not motivated that way anymore. And I believe that many times, women --- like my grandmother, Sadie Spires --- reach a point where they realize they cannot be a mother to one more child. Perhaps they're too poor. Perhaps they're too young or too old. Perhaps they know they're too selfish and just not cut out for child-raising. Perhaps they've simply got all the children they can afford. Or perhaps they've been forced into a pregnancy. Or realize that the child they would be bringing into the world will have physical and medical needs beyond their capabilities.

Abortion should be the last resort, I believe, but it should be left on the table as a legal and safe option. Not as a solution for pregnancies that are just inconvenient, but as one imperfect way of dealing with the complications of an imperfect world.

Although I agree with the concept that a child should be given a chance at life, I am repulsed by the religious zealots who fail to realize society's responsibility in making the world a healthy and safe place in which to bring children. So many of the anti-abortionists also align themselves with politicians who vote against funding for social support systems that would help an unwed or impoverished mother raise her child in ways that would ensure its physical health and emotional security.

Society also makes it difficult for a child to be removed from an abusive or neglectful home and placed in a secure environment. The emphasis on placement in two-parent, heterosexually-headed families prevents many single people or gay and lesbian people from becoming adoptive parents.

I think, if she had not been desperate and had been in a situation where more options were available, Sadie Spires would not have undergone the self-induced abortion that ended her life and left her children motherless. Family planning clinics were not available in southern Ohio in 1925. It was scandalous to think of giving up a child for adoption simply because you couldn't afford to raise it. And even if one could afford to see a doctor, no respectable physician would assist an overworked and exhausted woman in terminating a pregnancy.

I wish she had not chosen abortion. But I understand why she did. It's not up to me to judge my grandmother, nor for anyone else, except God. All I know is, my father lived the rest of his life grieving for her and I would have liked to have known her in more than just family remembrances.