Commentary Our new life in the dugout
Kelley Paul had gone to bed Tuesday night as usual, with her cellphone set on “Do Not Disturb,” except for family and close friends whose calls would always go through.
That’s why, when Kentucky Sen. Rand Paul tried to reach his wife early Wednesday morning using a borrowed phone, the call went straight to voicemail. Paul had left his own phone in the baseball dugout he had abandoned when the shooting began.
It was after a neighbor started banging on the front door of the Pauls’ Louisville home that Kelley learned of the rampage at the Alexandria, Virginia, baseball diamond where her husband and others were practicing for the annual congressional game between Republicans and Democrats.
On this particular day, the gunman was hunting Republicans.
In an email exchange with Kelley, a friend since last year’s presidential campaign, she told me of waking up to the sound of loud knocking -- the shooting took place shortly after 7 a.m. -- and finding her best friend at the door. Fearful that Kelley might read or hear the news through some form of media, the neighbor had rushed over to be by her side.
“Thank God, because my first three texts were along the lines of, ‘Is Rand OK??’” said Kelley in an email. “I would have flipped out.”
Such moments, doubtless, were taking place all over the country as family and friends wondered if their representative, senator, loved ones or friends had been in the line of fire. House Majority Whip Steve Scalise, who remained in critical condition at this writing, was near second base fielding balls when he was hit. Most are familiar by now with the details, especially the acts of heroism by Capitol Police officers who were attached to Scalise. Sen. Paul noted in retrospect that the event might have been a massacre had it not been for Scalise’s security detail.
And, yet, in some wretched irony, it was Scalise who absorbed the worst of the gunman’s rage when a single bullet pierced his hip, shattering bones and ripping through organs, leaving the congressman fighting for his life.
Perhaps because I know Scalise, this particular horror hit hard. Kelley and I shared our emotional exhaustion and sorrow, as well as fear. It isn’t only the terrible suffering of Scalise or the others wounded that day. It’s the cumulative effect of so much violence pounding us from all directions, day after day.
What is the tipping point for the human psyche, when too many becomes too much? For a lot of us, the psychological trauma began with the blunt force of 9/11. From then, humanity’s death spiral has seemed unrelenting. From the first beheading by the Islamic State to the mock severed head of President Trump, a malevolent spirit seems to have penetrated the air we breathe.
Yet, we defend our great nation as the best there is. This is certainly true if you happen to be a Syrian refugee or a survivor of slaughter in South Sudan. But is this really the best we can do?
I’m not much interested in debating gun control or assigning blame. The media didn’t open fire on that baseball field, nor did Donald Trump. Some horrible guy did it. He was apparently political, based on his social-media ramblings against Republicans. But it’s highly doubtful that he was reacting to some random act of punditry or a presidential tweet, maddening though they can be.
More likely, he found the impetus to act out his narcissistic rage in the same interior space that other mass murderers mine for imagined meaning. Do we need a kinder, gentler nation, as former President George H.W. Bush put it way back in the relatively innocent 1980s? Yes, we do. So, let’s. We can’t un-crazy crazy, but we can each try to stem the madness. It begins with simply caring: By looking up from our cellphones and making eye contact; by asking the checkout girl about her day; thanking the garbage collector; doing favors without a scorecard; giving away money because someone needs it more.
Sometimes a small gesture of kindness can change someone’s day -- or life. If the cumulative effect of evil acts brings us down, mightn’t the cumulative effect of good deeds lift us up? Madmen likely won’t abandon history anytime soon, but the least the rest of us can do is better -- for Team Scalise and for America. Kathleen Parker’s email address is kathleenparker@ washpost.com.
It’s come to this, on his 146th day in office: The president, under investigation for obstruction of justice, attacked his own deputy attorney general for orchestrating a “witch hunt” against him.
Sometimes my role as a columnist is to advise readers not to overreact, to maintain perspective. Today my advice is to buckle up. Brace yourselves.
I’m not sure for what, exactly. President Trump firing Rod Rosenstein or taking moves that would force the deputy attorney general, and perhaps others, to quit? Firing special counsel Robert Mueller, whose probe has pushed Trump to this frenzied state? Using his pardon power in an effort to shut down the investigation, on the theory that Mueller would then have nothing left to probe? Pardoning himself, a move of contested legality that even Richard Nixon balked at? Facing impeachment proceedings, however unlikely that may be with a Republican-controlled Congress?
That any of these seem within the realm of possibility is the measure of how unsettled, and unsettling, this moment is. Actually, that’s an understatement. This situation is alarming in a way I have never experienced in almost four decades here.
I am not alone. “The message the president is sending through his tweets is that he believes the rule of law doesn’t apply to him and that anyone who thinks otherwise will be fired,” Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-Calif., said in a statement Friday. “That’s undemocratic on its face and a blatant violation of the president’s oath of office.”
Trump had a moment last week when he rose to the occasion, however fleetingly. After the shooting at the Republican congressional baseball practice, the president struck the right note of calming unity: “We do well, in times like these, to remember that everyone who serves in our nation’s capital is here because, above all, they love our country.”
Love was not so much on the president’s mind the rest of the week. He went after “obstructionist” Democrats; “cowardly” James Comey, the fired FBI director; and the “Fake News Media ... so wrong and so dirty.”
But mostly, as reports about his legal peril multiplied, Trump became increasingly worked up about the Mueller probe. He perceives himself as the ultimate victim -- first of a double standard under which he is blamed while Clinton and her allies, such as former Attorney General Loretta Lynch, escape responsibility. “Crooked H destroyed phones w/ hammer, ‘bleached’ emails, & had husband meet w/AG days before she was cleared- & they talk about obstruction?” Trump tweeted.
Yes, Mr. President, because you are the president; she isn’t. Because as dumb and self-destructive as some of the Clintons’ conduct was, there was no evidence of obstruction and, as Comey said, “no reasonable prosecutor” would bring a case against her.
The second, perhaps even more deeply felt, aspect of Trump’s victimhood involves his conviction that any investigation of him constitutes an unfair attack by political enemies. “They made up a phony collusion with the Russians story, found zero proof, so now they go for obstruction of justice on the phony story,” he tweeted. “You are witnessing the single greatest WITCH HUNT in American political history -- led by some very bad and conflicted people!”
Where to start with the distorted thinking exhibited in these tweets? On collusion, Trump is, at best, premature; there is not “zero proof” but a continuing investigation into campaign and transition contacts between Trump associates and Russian operatives -- contacts that Trump aides have consistently minimized if not lied about directly.
As to obstruction, Trump’s wounds are entirely self-inflicted. He has seemed determined -- frantic, really -- to see that the case against fired national security adviser Michael Flynn is dropped. If you credit Comey’s sworn account over Trump’s news conference denials, Trump demanded Comey’s loyalty; pressed him to drop the case against Flynn; and eventually fired Comey himself because of his handling of “this Russia thing.” As Comey might say, no reasonable prosecutor would fail to investigate in these circumstances.
What Trump derides as a “phony witch hunt” is the legal system working as it should. Attorney General Jeff Sessions needed to recuse himself. Rosenstein needed to name a special counsel. And Mueller needs to pursue the investigation, impartially and fearlessly, to its logical end. That Trump now feels the need to attack seasoned prosecutors for simply doing their jobs speaks volumes -- and says nothing reassuring about the lengths to which Trump, for whom selfpreservation has always been the top priority, might eventually go. Ruth Marcus’ email address is ruthmarcus@washpost.com.