GreatRidge Station

On Wednesday, I made the observation, of Brick Pomeroy, that “I am quite confident that, had I known him, I would have liked him while I would certainly have found fault with almost all he believed and stood for.”

So, why would I like someone I didn’t like (you know what I mean)? Here’s a sample of his wit, from the La Cross Democrat during a heat wave in July of 1861, when the temperature was 119 degrees Fahrenheit. Of course, this temperature does not count, because it was about 20 years before official record keeping began:

Hot? Rather guess it is! Never saw the beat of it in this world, and never expect to in the next. The thermometer is no use–it gave out on Friday and the temperature has grown hotter every day since….

Fact! Tomorrow we shall photograph instead of printing our papers. Our mail this morning was so burnt we could hardly read the letters, and the Milwaukee Sentinel, not more than usually dry, was reduced to a cinder and floated off with the odor of a burnt rag….

The only cool place now to be found in town is by a big fire. We can only account for this heat in no other way than by believing that the world came to an end some days since while we were all asleep and that we have woken up in the bad place spoken of so often. The only thing lacking to confirm this conclusion is that we can’t smell any brimstone yet.

This bit is funny on oh-so-many levels, particularly the ribbing he gives to that Milwaukee paper–still around and doing well, incidentally. This wit-riddled editorial, my friends, demonstrates that it is possible to like and appreciate people with whom you disagree. In this year of political debate and mud-slinging, it’s good to remember that.

You can read a reprint of the whole article here.

In my Monday post, I made the observation that “The burning issues of our day will fade into obscurity behind the gloss of history.” I think I’m right about this one.

Lately, I’ve been reading a good deal of local history of my home town of La Crosse, Wisconsin. I’ve always enjoyed it, and some of the historical figures seem very much alive in my mind, though they were gone long before I came on the scene.

Marcus “Brick” Pomeroy was a local figure with an interesting history. I am quite confident that, had I known him, I would have liked him while I would certainly have found fault with almost all he believed and stood for. Pomeroy was a copperhead, that is, a northerner who was opposed to the policies of Abraham Lincoln. There is no small irony (and a good deal of justice) that Lincoln is memorialized on the lowly, copper penny–take that, copperheads.

At any rate, Brick Pomeroy, the Editor of the La Crosse Democrat, was, depending on who you ask, either a scalawag or a rapscallion. In 1864, he made the following comment about President Lincoln:

[Lincoln is a] fungus from the corrupt womb of bigotry and fanaticism…no worse tyrant and more inhuman butcher than has existed since the days of Nero… The man who votes for Lincoln now is a traitor and murderer… And if he is elected to misgovern for another four years, we trust some bold hand will pierce his heart with dagger point for the public good.”

Sadly, Pomeroy’s words were prophetic, in both senses of the term. He both foretold the future, and spoke to his day in such a way that the wheels of rebellion brought his words to reality. One of Pomeroy’s editorials can be viewed here (and page 2 is the transcribed text in html).
We think little of the copperheads today, and Brick Pomeroy is resting before judgment day. The pressing issues of his day really have been lost the the gloss of history, and the nation still mourns a revered president, who lost his life during what was to be a pleasant night at the theatre.

Every leader must remember that our words have consequences. Pomeroy nearly lost his life after Lincoln’s assassination. Today, he merits no article on Wikipedia, and the building from which he published is gone, torn down in my youth, replaced by a sunken garden, replaced by a McDonalds, replaced by a Brueggers Bagel Shop, and now a vacant building and parking lot. Yes, Brick had a cool nickname, but that’s about all.

This, from Henri Nouwen:

Christian leaders cannot simply be persons who have well-informed opinions about the burning issues of our time. Their leadership must be rooted in the permanent, intimate relationship with the incarnate Word, Jesus, and they need to find there the source for their words, advice, and guidance.

While I do not often agree with Nouwen doctrinally, this quote (from In the Name of Jesus) is particularly relevant to our day. The real wisdom that leaders need is not the wisdom of knowing or doing, but of being. There must be, in our leadership, a sense of the eternal. The burning issues of our day will fade into obscurity behind the gloss of history. What matters is leadership that transcends the day by being firmly rooted in something unchanging–as Hebrews 13:8 puts it, ” Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” He is the source of true leadership wisdom.