Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:10):
And we continue with our American stories. A funeral service
was held on November fifth, twenty twenty one, for General
Colin Powell at the Washington National Cathedral in Washington, d C.
Powell died from COVID nineteen complications amid an ongoing battle
with cancer. He was eighty four. Here's his son Michael,
(00:32):
speaking at his father's funeral service.
Speaker 2 (00:36):
My sisters and I were raised under the stars, the
stars of the story General we eulogize today. Dad was
famous for his thirteen rules. But our family life was unregimented,
no morning revely or marching drills. It was a warm
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and joyous and loving home, anchored by our strong and
graceful mother, Alma. Our parents taught us right, they taught
us wrong, and they taught us to take responsibility for
our actions and never to blame others. Disappointing them was
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the worst punishment you could imagine. My father is frequently
remembered as a problem solver. While his solutions to world
problems may have been elegant, his fixes around the house
were a bit more cluegy. He believed he could cheaply
fix anything with a little duct tape, some wire, and
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a can of spray paint. He'd even propose a solution
for a non existent problem just to satisfy his curiosity
about how something worked, like the time in high school
he decided that my cherished sixty two Chevy and Palla
was making a noise. It definitely was not making a noise. Nonetheless,
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he pursued the phantom sound by pulling the engine, something
he had never done before. He spent a whole weekend
hanging chain and hoisting the engine and messing with who
knows what. When he put it back together and started it,
the car wopped like a helicopter. We rushed to the
door and saw him backing out of the driveway with
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a big, proud smile on his face. But that smile
faded quickly when he shifted the car into drive, and
it would never go forward again. But he was always thinking,
so he donated the car to the local fire department.
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To get it there, he literally drove the car backwards
on public roads for three miles, smiling at astonished drivers
along the way. His zest for life derived from his
endless passion for people. He was genuinely interested in everyone
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he met. He loved a hot dog vendor a bank teller,
a janitor, and a student as much as any world leader.
Not long ago, he was driving his corvette on the
Beltway and got a flat tire. A young disabled veteran
saw him and pulled over to help with the tire fixed.
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The young vet sheepeshly asked if he could take a
quick selfie, but my dad took time to ask about
his family and his friends and his life, something no
Instagram moment could ever uncover. A few days later, to
thank him for his help, my father invited the vet
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and his entire family over to the house for dinner.
Colin Powell was a great leader because he was a
great follower. He knew you could not ask your troops
to do anything you were unwilling to do yourself. One
time I was walking into the PX with my dad.
We came upon a corporal saluting a captain over and
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over again. My father walked up and asked this captain
what he was doing. The captain replied, Sir, this corporal
failed to salute me, so I'm making him salute me
a hundred times. My dad said, that's fine, but you
make darn sure you salute him back every single time.
The exchange of salutes is a sign of mutual respect.
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He loved the troops with all his heart. The morning
I was flying to Germany for my first assignment as
a new army officer, he came into my room to
say goodbye. He leaned over and kissed me on the
cheek and whispered gently, take care of our soldiers. Countless
people have benefited from his mentorship. He could offer weighty
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wisdom and a few choice words. I recall when I
was chairman of the FCC and having a very rough
go in the press. I emailed him and asked maybe
I should consider stepping down. The response was swift powells,
don't quit. People will long forget the issues you're dealing with.
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They will never forget how you conduct yourself In the
road to character, David Brooks draws a distinction between resume
virtues and eulogy virtues. Resume virtues are your achievements and
your skills. Eulogy virtues are those discussed at your funeral,
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the ones that exist at the core of your being.
Whether you are kind, brave, honest, or faithful, this person
has a quiet but solid sense of right and wrong.
Not only to do good but to be good. He
wants to love intimately, to sacrifice self and the service
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of others, and to live in obedience to some transcendent trust.
That was my father. The example of Colon Powell does
not call on us to emulate his resume, which is
too formidable for mere mortals. It is to emulate his
character and his example as a human being. We can
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strive to do that. We can choose to be good.
One of my most powerful memories comes from holding my
dad's hand. I was hurt, very badly and lying in
an ICU bed following a bad accident. It was the
middle of the night, yet my father was by my
side after a long day of work. I was squirming
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in pain and anguish. Without a word, he just took
my hand and squeezed it with a father's love. It
instantly relaxed and put me at peace. The last night
of his life, I walked in to see him. Now
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he was the one lying and I see you bed.
He could not see or speak to me, so I
took his hand, just as he had taken mine decades before.
I knew everything was not going to be okay. I
wanted him to be at peace, but again I felt
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my father's love in that hand. That hand that took
my mother's hand in matrimony, that hand that held me
as a baby, That hand that signed report cards, tossed
baseballs and fixed old cars, That hand that signed treaties
and war orders, saluted service members and jess for joyfully
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whiles telling a story. That hand is still now, but
it left a deep imprint on the lives of family
and dear friends, soldiers and sailors, presidents and prime ministers,
and a generation of aspiring young people. Ralph Waldo Emerson
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said that the purpose of life is not to be happy.
It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate,
to have it make some difference that you have lived
and lived well. My father made a monumental difference. He lived,
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he lived well. I've heard it asked, are we still
making his com I believe the answer to that question
is up to us to honor his legacy. I hope
we do more than consign him to the history books.
I hope we recommend ourselves to being a nation where
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we are still making his kind. For, as he said
in his autobiography, his journey was an American journey Colin
Powell was a great lion with a big heart. We
will miss him terribly.
Speaker 1 (09:37):
And you've been listening to Michael Powell eulogize his father,
and what words. There was no morning revee or marching
drills in our house. Our parents taught us right from wrong,
taught us to take responsibility for our actions. Disappointing them
was the worst punishment you could imagine. He was a
(09:57):
great leader because he was a great follower, Michael pointed out,
and he loved the troops with all his heart. That
story of that saluting commanding officer, What a rebuke, What
a cautionary tale, What words of wisdom? And boy did
that reveal Powell's character about power and rank and what
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its purpose is. And last, but not least, that image
of his dad's hands, in all the different ways his
hands his heart affected so many people he came in
contact with. We say here on the show that there
are two kinds of eulogies, and of the kind in
which a son or a daughter delivers that kind of
message about a parent, and the ones that don't the
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life of Colin Powell an American journey. Here on our
American Stories