Preservation of Memories

I'm sitting alone in a conference room in the Marin County Civic Center, possibly the most beautiful and unusual county administration building in the country. It was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and it feels like it's a mile long crazy layer cake. I'm working/not working, at the time of a mediation where both sides are percolating in their own conference rooms on the ideas we are batting around. The time component is a necessary part of any negotiation but it too is like a baked good. There is a perfect amount of time for a souffle to bake or a loaf of bread to rise but if you wait too long, it falls apart. It's only mid-afternoon, so it hasn't been too long yet.

I traveled all day yesterday back from Alabama and I'm having a little whiplash turning around to work right away. That's how cushy my life is: I can usually build in a day of resettling before I'm back at it. This was a real whirlwind tour, though. We flew into Birmingham on Thursday, checked into this totally wild bed and breakfast and then went for dinner at Chez Fonfon, which was amazing. The next morning, we hustled down to Montgomery for lunch and for the portrait ceremony of Judge Myron H. Thompson, who Brook clerked for when we lived in MGM in 2003-4. Ususally judges have their portrait ceremony when they retire, but after 42 years on the bench, there doesn't seem to be any danger that Judge will be retiring, so they made an exception. 

This portrait was painted by Wayde Mcintosh. I don't know much about portraiture but a few speakers commented on its history and the poignancy of the imagery in this painting. Judge is sitting on a cushion sewn by his first client, a seamstress and milliner. She was present at the ceremony, an absolute wisp of a woman in an huge black and gold hat, with a bag on her lap that was magazine covers of the Michelle Obama. The chair Judge sits in was his grandfather's, a man with a third grade education who founded a high school for Black boys during segregation. The stars in the background are the same motif as the back drop in Judge's courtroom, symbolic of the American flag, but here painted with a pattern from a quilt made by the Judge's daughter, who died many years ago. It's rare to see Judge Thompson looking as somber as he does in the portrait. He's a very affable and funny person whose face is usually very open and curious. Here, he is conveying how serious he takes the charge he holds: Justice for all who enter his courtroom. 

After the ceremony, a reception, dinner with a friend. 

The next day, we visited The Legacy Museum and Peace and Justice Memorial. Back in 2018, we took a Civil Rights road trip with our kids, visiting 19 civil rights museums and memorials, including the Rosa Parks Museum and the Freedom Rides Museum, both in Montgomery. I wondered what a new museum could offer. Multitudes, it turns out. The legacy here is not one of civil rights and the triumph of justice over evil. This legacy concerns the enduring legacy of enslavement, mass incarceration, and white supremacy. The Memorial is a city block of sculpture in memory of 4400 men, women, and children who were lynched between 1866 and 1959. The use of those dates is very intentional. Since opening in 2019, they've learned of an additional 4400 lynchings. The last lynching they have documented occurred three months ago, when a young man in Bell County, PA, was found bound and gagged and hanged. Despite the binds he was in, it was deemed a death by suicide, and no investigation was conducted. The memorial is reminiscent of the Memorial of the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin.

After that, we visited an old friend and then went to a dinner in Judge's honor. There was line dancing. The Wobble may or may not have been performed. The next morning we headed back to Birmingham for the flights home.