Who would eat at your table?

No one in this picture made my top five, but the conversations that
are held when we all get together are priceless.

By Will Brown

As we all know the Super Bowl was a rout from the opening seconds of the game. Since the football was not as compelling as we all assumed, the conversation meandered in many directions during the course of the game.

It’s so much more fun to watch FOX when it’s someone else being blitzed & sacked! #SuperBowl
— Hillary Clinton (@HillaryClinton) February 3, 2014

Sometime during the second half, after discussions about Hillary Clinton, Bruno Mars and the lackluster commercials, someone asked: If you could have dinner with five people, living or dead, who would they be?

I chose Christ, Nelson Mandela, Diego Maradona and then gave up on the exercise. The game was back on and our collective attention returned to the Broncos getting bucked off the pedestal they were placed on.

For whatever reason, I was reminded of that conversation earlier this week, decided to finish out my quintet 

and chose to wonder who would make the cut for those closest to me.

Christ took what most of us would consider lunch for two and fed 5,000; Mandela was imprisoned for 27 years and was not bitter and Maradona was the cocaine-snorting, binge-eating, soccer savant whose life may be the inspiration for the Dos Equis commercials.

After Argentina was humbled by a 1-0 loss to Cameroon in first game of the 1990 World Cup, the miniature maestro quipped: "I cured the Italians of racism, didn't I? The whole stadium was shouting for Cameroon. Wasn't that nice?”

If he could conjure a comment like that after the embarrassment of losing to a team that was a 500-1 underdog, just imagine what he would say at a dinner conversation.

If there was more time, I would have considered Barack Obama, Alexander the Great, Beethoven, Ed Bradley, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Thomas DeSaille Tucker, Thurgood Marshall, Stephen F. Austin and Chief Osceola for the final two positions.

 

Thomas DeSaile Tucker,
Courtesy: State Archives of Florida.

Bradley, Austin and Beethoven.

Obama, Marshall and Bradley were trailblazers with undeniable impacts on American politics, law and journalism. Fitzgerald was the writer whose work inspired me to keep writing, Tucker founded the university that has been central to so many good memories and friendships, Austin and Osceola were historical figures from the two states I’ve resided in and 

Beethoven is someone who was unable to enjoy his own genius later in life.

Of course it’s a hypothetical exercise that is little more than conversation filler. Nonetheless, it is a porthole into the psyche.

Dinner is the most intimate meal of the day. Who we share it with says something about us, as well as the company we keep.

Laughs and liveliness,

-Wb

Who can envision South Africa without Mandela?

Physically, the book is boxed up in an air conditioned storage unit. Emotionally, “A Long Walk To Freedom" is a book that will never leave my heart.

Its author, Rolihlahla Mandela, died Thursday. He was 95.

A man who did not possess as much confidence as his peers went on to change the world. His patience, determination, courage, selflessness and optimism were infectious. Even those who never met him, and I was one of them, were immediately drawn to him.

His autobiography germinated an idea in me to visit his beautiful country when it was no more than a wish to visit a faraway land.

Mandela was a national treasure, so much so that South Africans affectionately called him Madiba. As he fought for his life in a Pretoria hospital, one Johannesburg newspaper ran the headline “Holding on to a mighty heart.”

Mandela’s heart may have been mighty, but it has endured a lot. An unconfident boy from the South African hinterland grew up to become a lawyer and eventual leader of the African National Congress. He was married with a family when apartheid was instituted in 1948.



By the time apartheid crumbled, Mandela’s standing extended well beyond his compatriots. He was a worldwide colossus in strength. This was after being banished to a prison six miles off the coast of Cape Town for more than a quarter century.

Let that sink in for a moment.

It’s a story celebrated by most, but not understood by all.

Those of us who were not old enough to remember the true impact of apartheid should read Mandela’s autobiography to ensure similar human ugliness is not only never repeated, but allowed to blossom in isolation from the world.

A journalism professor dared me to accept that challenge and write a book review for an Editorial Writing course. I had less than 10 days to sift through nearly 700 pages. Like my professor predicted I didn’t finish.

At the time I wrote: “The book is a detailed story of Mandela, from his humble beginning in the Transkei region of South Africa to his ascension to the president of a democratic South Africa.

Published in 1995, the same year he was elected president, this autobiography gives readers a deeper understanding of why Rolihlaha Mandela--he was given the English name of Nelson on his first day of school--was politically active and the root of his activism before his 27 year imprisonment.”

The assignment resulted in an “A”. In my professor’s notes, he explicitly noted his expectation that I finish the book. That summer, after graduation, I did. Each page pulled me closer to the beautiful veld. Each page illuminated a dark era of the 20th century.

Each page unveiled the character that has been on display for decades.

As the weeks and months went by I planned and plotted to see the South Africa Mandela described. That a soccer tournament was being held there in 2010 gave me additional incentive. My one regret from 16 days in South Africa was not visiting Robben Island. My tour was canceled when 30 foot waves stood between the Island and the mainland.

Seeing Robben Island out on the horizon while taking a bus tour on a rainy winter afternoon in Cape Town sent goosebumps down my arms. The mainland is clearly visible; however, the choppy, shark-infested waters likely made Cape Town look further in the distance.

I was 25 at the time. Awe replaced the goosebumps at the thought any person would willingly spend my entire life locked away from their family and friends for their beliefs. The awe turned to appreciation for a man who resisted succumbing to the anger that surely raged inside him. It takes a special person to spend their life fighting injustice, refuse to channel that rage toward the minority whose hateful legislation and ideology segregated South Africa and be a leader for all.

Mandela’s first boss warned him “You will lose all your clients, you will go bankrupt, you will break up your family, and you will end up in jail. That is what will happen if you go into politics.”

He entered anyway. A friend I met on that South Africa trip recently told me Mandela “has always represented love and hope. Hope for something greater. He represents the image of what we hope to be: people of integrity, courage and unconditional love.”

Twenty years after Madiba and F.W. de Klerk won a Nobel Peace Prize for their work in eradicating apartheid the former can no longer breathe life into a nation.

As we mourn Mandela, the best way to respect his legacy would be to emulate his integrity, courage and unconditional love.

Laughs and liveliness,

-Wb