Shaking Hands with Clarence Thomas

The cigar-sized box, addressed to me, just appeared on the table located in the anteroom of the monthly newsmagazine where I was an associate editor. It was neatly wrapped, addressed in a careful script, but had no postage on it so it hadn’t been mistakenly left there by the postman. It had been hand-delivered.

One of the sales reps, returning to the office, had spotted it first and had stuck her head inside my office to alert me to its presence; she was not about to pick it up and bring it to me. The same woman had, just the week before, informed me that I was infuriating some readers with my edgy, take-no-prisoners style of column writing. Wow, imagine that.

I went out and retrieved the box and it sat unopened on my desk as the other staffers made jokes, asking me if I heard any ticking sounds emanating from inside the package; the editor, Larry Durstin, suggested that I put it in a pail of water before opening it. He knew that my flame-throwing style of journalism was probably pissing off some potential advertisers to the point of costing the publication revenue, but he wasn’t about to tell me to tone it down — neither was the publisher, Jim Carney. I liked that in them.

I eventually opened the package and, to my surprise, it didn’t contain dog fecal matter as I had suspected, but a black T-shirt. It has the distinctive red lettered logo of the police anti-drug organization D.A.R.E. emblazoned across the front, and underneath, in smaller white lettering “I turned in both my parents and all I got was this lousy T-Shirt!” The shirt instantly became one of my most prized possessions...

A note inside informed me that the giver of the gift was none other than Bernie Baltic, who I just found out died in March at age 71. I’d never met the great libertarian, inveterate letter writer, and brilliant thinker, but we would go on to become fast friends.

Bernie had read a column I’d written (this was back in 1996) which cited a study that challenged the notion that D.A.R.E. was wildly successful in achieving a substantial reduction in drug usage in the schools were the vaulted program was in place. Indeed, the study (and numerous others to follow) showed that in most cases there was a slight increase in teen drug usage in the schools that brought in the D.A.R.E. program. Libertarians like Bernie Baltic instinctively knew the program was smoke-and-mirrors bullshit, and they were cackling with delight at the results of the study. The national D.A.R.E. organization had sued Bernie a few years previously and forced him to cease and desist printing the T-shirts, so when I met him for the first time over lunch a week later he informed me that I was now the owner of one of the few remaining offensive (but very accurate) T-shirts.

Bernie made no bones about it: He was going to try to turn me into a libertarian — something that (while he was unsuccessful) made me immensely proud and here’s why: He thought that I was bright enough to be worth his time to try to convert. Anyone who knew Bernie also knew that he had an amazingly keen intellect, and he didn’t suffer fools gladly. If you couldn’t keep up with his lightening fast mind he was not about to slow down — he never took prisoners either. Although a very quiet and unassuming man, he would literally decimate you in debate if your argument wasn’t on solid ground. He set fire to my ass for sloppy thinking on more than one occasion ... but his flame was always a slow, gentle roasting. At heart he was an exceptionally kind man.

Where we philosophically parted ways was with his libertarian view of “every man for himself” brand of capitalism. For instance, in the current debate over the predatory payday loan practices of charging 391 percent interest, Bernie’s point of view would simply be that people should educate themselves so they are not taken advantage of, and those who fail to do so are fair game ... and that the government should not do anything to protect them. My rebuttal always was, “That construct works fine for those who have had the benefit of a first-class education, as you have had Bernie, but what about those who were less fortunate?” I felt that under his construct, those who had a head start, who were born on third base and think they’re homerun hitters, would always be able to take advantage of those who have been hobbled by unfair social conditions and historic injustices such as slavery. “Level the playing field and I’m with you Bernie,” I became fond of saying.

But Bernie had an answer: For years he’d been involved (dedicated is a better word) as a founding member of Granville Academy Cleveland, a program that taught business and financial skills to inner-city youths. He’d been trying to level the playing field for years. While I have to admit to being somewhat suspect that his goal was to indoctrinate these Black kids into becoming little capitalist predators ... there is some truth to the old adage that “the best thing you can do for poor people is to not be one of them.”

Some years later, after I became the editor of another publication, I instituted a “Citizens’ Review Board,” a group of everyday people that interviewed candidates for political office and made endorsement recommendations to the newspaper staff. Bernie quickly became the leader of the group. Instead of asking politicians what they would do if elected, he asked them what three things they would promise never to do if elected — which, to my mind, is a far better question in terms of accountability. Most of the candidates were flustered and dumbfounded by the question.

One day I got a call from Bernie inviting me to go down to Ashland College with him to hear Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas give an address — to a bunch of right-wing conservative ideologues I suspected. Previously to getting to know Bernie, and having some of his wisdom rub off on me, I would have flatly refused the invitation. But, and here’s where Bernie had a profound impact on my life, my eyes had been opened to how closed my mind had previously been. Whereas I formerly would not have entertained thoughts or political positions that were diametrically opposed to mine, Bernie had, over a period of years, shown me how truly small-minded my thinking was. He was wise enough, had enough integrity, and had enough force of personality to bring people of differing opinions into contact with each other. He intrinsically knew that the ensuing debates, the clash of ideas and ideals, would — in the long run — be good for the Republic. For that personal growth I am deeply and forever indebted to Bernie Baltic.

Upon arriving at Ashland College I immediately headed to the men’s room, and who was coming out but Ohio Supreme Court Justice Tom Moyer, whom I’d known for a few years due to him coming into the newspaper for endorsement interviews. He was no doubt surprised to see me at the event, but didn’t let on, and proceeded to introduce me to the Black gentleman whom he had in tow: Clarence Thomas. What could I do? I shook hands warmly with the Justice and then proceeded on into the men’s room where I washed vigorously — both before and after. When I told Bernie about whom I’d just met, he was so delighted I didn’t have the heart to tell him the part about the vigorous hand washing. RIP, Bernie.

From Cool Cleveland contributor Mansfield B. Frazier mansfieldfATgmail.com
Comments? Letters@CoolCleveland.com

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