The Real Inconvenient Truth

With all due respect to the world's environmental alarmist, Al Gore, the real inconvenient truth of the modern world is not global warming but the non-stop killing of beating heart babies within the mother's womb.

On this very dark day 40 years ago, America lost it's soul.  It remains lost to this day. Many don't care. However, many do but much work needs to be done to right this evil wrong.

The United States of America's Supreme Court legalized the culture of death called abortion.  Since that time, 55 million fetuses (in our country alone), a conservative estimate, have been pulled like a weed out of the womb of a mother during various stages of human development and formation. And disposed of as trash.

This government sponsored genocide against the powerless and the faceless is what theologian George Weigel states,"is one of the two worst decisions in Supreme Court history."  The other being the dreadful Dred Scott decision in 1857 that upheld slavery.  In the Dred Scott case, the Court's decision then upheld that "an entire class of human beings (black slaves) were beyond the protection of the laws."  In Roe v Wade on January 22, 1973, the Court declared "that another class of human beings (the unborn) were beyond legal protection."

Let us pray and work for our Pro Life movement that we will have the same effect on offering life and protection to those in the womb that our government gave to blacks in the Civil Rights Act in 1964.  Call it the Human Right to Life Act of 2013 for the unborn.

And if appeal fails and the movement sputters, then a pox on all of us. For our country to continually support this culture of death or to use the antiseptic phrase for colorblind abortion, the vernacular "pro-choice", is utterly heinous and repugnant.

Shame on our government and to those who marginalize this societal scourge of the ages while promoting and supporting more trendy social issues of the day. For what is more vital than the gift of life itself?

We are better than this.

St. Louis' Most Favored Son

Lil and Stan Musial married for 72 years, Lil died in 2012

 

Stan "The Man" Musial 1920-2013, age 92, RIP

 

 Two hats of belief for Stan, the church and the Cardinals

This past Saturday, while in St. Louis attending the funeral of the pater familias of the family, Uncle Ed Costigan, 98, we all received the news that our beloved Stan Musial died at his home in Ladue, Missouri. Only the death of Stan Musial could have trumped the glorious send off for Uncle Ed.

Stan had been in poor health for quite some time and death was imminent. But, once death comes in whatever form or station, you're never quite ready for it.  For us, the Cardinal faithful and St. Louis natives, the immortal Stan Musial is and will always be synonymous with St. Louis.

By the time you read this, everybody with a keyboard and/or a microphone has chimed in about Stan's passing and his incredible life both on and off the field of play.  His superb talents.  His humility.  His grace.  His generosity. His marriage to Lil and his surviving family. His loyalty for his adopted hometown St. Louis.  And, his Cardinals. So I won't recycle what you already know.  But I do have a reflection on Stan which is personal and real.

In March 2003, we traveled back to St. Louis to visit family.  Typically, we stay at the Missouri Athletic Club, aka MAC, in downtown St. Louis.  It's a venerable 100 year old city club with a terrific watering hole called the Jack Buck Grille.  The MAC has been the center of St. Louis' love affair with their sports heroes for decades. One such super hero was Stan Musial. Stan loved the MAC. And the MAC loved Stan.

While staying at the MAC on that cold early March evening, my spies at the club told me that Stan was in the house.  Immediately, I told my 13 year old  son, Will, who was traveling with us, that Stan Musial is in our midst.  After some searching, we found Stan on the second floor in the Eads Room attending a sports banquet in Stan's honor as "The Athlete of the Century."  "The Athlete of the Century" was sitting forlornly on an under stuffed chair...alone, watching the dais.

Will and I proceeded with caution.  You know, sports legends, ie Dimaggio, Williams, Mays, are  usually surrounded by surly thugs to keep the riff raff away.  We thought we would surely be re-buffed by somebody and maybe even by Stan when we approached him...cautiously.   Boy, were we wrong.

We introduced ourselves to Stan.  Surprisingly, nobody bothered us. We told him of our St. Louis roots and our enduring love for the Cardinals.  Instantly, a bridge was built to his heart and soul. We talked baseball alot.  We mischievously cajoled Stan with our knowledge of his career:  7 batting titles, .331 lifetime batting average, fourth most hits ever, three MVPS, three World Series championships, sixth most RBIs ever, struck out only 696 times in  11,000 at bats, almost twice as many walks as strikeouts, first ballot Hall of Famer and he was never thrown out of a game in 22 years of baseball.  He smiled awkwardly and seemed nonplussed by all this minutiae brown-nosing.  Then he angled that "Stan look" at Will.  Asked him, "Slugger, you like baseball like your Dad?"  Will nodded.  Well then...he slipped his left hand inside his coat pocket and gave Will an autographed picture of #6.  Waddasay, waddasay, waddasay. Will beamed. (See Will clutching the card in the picture below.)

That's not all.  After the exchange of the picture, Stan dipped into his front coat pocket and brought out his ever ready harmonica and played "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."  Pitch perfect.  He hit that one out of the park too!! Will said later,  "Dad, he didn't even know us and he treated us so nice(ly)."  But that's Stan.  That's St. Louis. We soared up eight stories to our room on memory wings which will last a couple of lifetimes.

I had read how approachable and kind Stan was for years but to experience it firsthand was very validating and powerful. Believe it. It happened to us on one cold winter Midwestern evening when our paths serendipitously crossed with STAN MUSIAL and we were all the better for it. 

So everything you may read and hear about Stan Musial in the days and weeks to come is probably true.  His life lived was better than fiction.  He was the real deal on and off the field. Civility personified in one man.

So, rest in peace,  Stanley Frank Musial, as quoted by then Commissioner Ford Frick and inscribed on the unusual Musial statue outside Busch Stadium:

"Here stands baseball's perfect warrior. Here stands baseball's perfect knight."

Will and Stan at the MAC on Friday evening March 7, 2003