The King of Lost Causes

On a gray, chilly November morning, I attended the graveside funeral for my friend Don Follmer—91 years of age at his passing—and delivered a short eulogy and poetry recitation. The service included a flag-folding ceremony with troops attired in their dress blues. Seeing the rows and rows of white grave markers spread over the green hills of the Leavenworth National Cemetery tugged at my heart, and I couldn’t help but contemplate sadly the blood sacrifice of so many in evidence there.

I served in the Red Cross in Vietnam; however, that having been in a civilian capacity, I’ll merit no folded flag nor interment with the troops I was sent to aid. I’ll simply be put to rest in the cemetery in my hometown of Emporia beside the graves of my parents, Dale and Ethyle, and baby sister, Marianna Leigh. Amid the soil and grass of my earliest earthly beginnings.

Driving home and assailed with these somber thoughts, I was nudged into considering what headstone should I myself choose? What epitaph might best encapsulate my time spent on this material plane? Well, I did come up with one serious possibility, but I’ll not reveal it here. However, another candidate crossed my mind that, while being most appropriate, could be considered a tad too self-deprecating and tongue-in-cheek for eternity. And that inscription would be: “The King of Lost Causes.” One might even contend that, looking back over my life’s path, I would seem to have had a knack for backing the “noble losers.”

The first such instance might be seen as my aforementioned deployment to Vietnam. At the time, I accepted the premise that we were battling a communist threat and even voted for Barry Goldwater. Not having passed the draft physical for military service, I volunteered as a Red Cross worker to help support troop morale and assist in some small way toward securing victory. Of course, we know how that eventually turned out, both for Goldwater and America.

Having saved a little nest egg while overseas, I began trying, over the ensuing years, to multiply my net worth with private placement investments: a supper club in Germany, a mobile auto service in Texas, a new security firm in California, and a shopper-paper company in Georgia. Each involved, for differing reasons, a certain “altruistic” appeal to me. However, all would go belly-up, my stake along with them. Even a couple of trading software programs I purchased to recoup my losses went belly-up also. Investing simply wasn’t my forte.

Following early retirement from my library employment, I was persuaded to join the FairTax movement and assist with their promotional materials. The advantages of replacing the income tax system with a simple national sales tax were numerous and logically convincing; however, not so to the Washington establishment and political elites who game the present system to their advantage. We FairTaxers marched in parades, protested on April tax-filing day, held informational seminars for the public and lobbied politicians. Nevertheless, over time our best efforts diminished to insignificance.

At about that same period, the controversy over education and evolutionary theory erupted in Kansas. In preparing an article for The Kansas City Star paper, I studied the issue on both sides and was drawn into the intelligent design movement. It became abundantly clear to me that the ID group had the far better argument. I attended their conferences, met most of the prominent leaders and authors, and read their books. I had high hopes the American education system was on the road to a great renewal. But, entrenched academe dug in its heels and that was not to be. The folly of Darwinism (some would term it the “atheist’s creation myth”) still rules the day and dominates the minds of our students.

The familiarity with ID theory, however, led me to another association of great promise and compassionate human progress—the followers of the spiritual guru Fethullan Gũlen ( the Turkish version of Mahatma Gandhi) and their Institute of Interfaith Dialog. Intelligent design is a given in Turkish society, and thereby I made many Turkish friends, toured Turkey to write a travelogue and delivered a paper at a Muslim conference in Rotterdam. Their dedication to interfaith understanding, education, improved healthcare and community solidarity stood beyond inspiring. However, with the coming of the Erdoğan regime and an attempted coup, the movement was crushed and is now only a shadow of its former influence.

Perhaps the greatest disillusionment of all pertains directly to the political realm. Some years ago while wintering in Nevada, I made the internet acquaintance, through a mutual friend, of the libertarian luminary Richard Boddie. He generously schooled me on the fundamentals of libertarianism and why it should be the natural choice for the peoples of a nation founded on the constitutional principles unique to America. Human freedom and individual dignity. It wasn’t my first encounter with that vision, but Richard was most persuasive. I came to embrace that wisdom and even once voted for Ron Paul for president. Nevertheless, with the arrival of the 2020 political campaigns and election, it’s now beyond dispute that a majority of the electorate has been seduced by the siren song of socialism and even Marxism, the utter antithesis of liberty—ironically the very thing over 58,000 American soldiers gave their lives fighting against in Vietnam. So, we’ve come full circle. And lost.

Nevertheless, on the personal side and philosophically speaking, I’d say on balance I’ve had a pretty good life. I was lucky in family, lucky in love and lucky in friendships. I traveled a good part of the world and pursued four fulfilling professions: social work, teaching, librarianship and writing. And on numerous occasions, more than my share, I’ve cheated death. So, really, what’s there for me to complain about? With shoulders thrown back and a smile on my face, I’ll proudly accept the title for all time: “The King of Lost Causes.”