A Promise Finally Kept

 

President Biden's decision to call the massacre of Armenians a "genocide" brings to mind Bill's movie The Promise.  It was a dream of the billionaire Kirk Kerkorian who provided all of the financing.  You could call it his "promise" to the Armenian Community's campaign to secure genocide classification of the mass killings of Armenians by the Ottoman Turks.

I remember being in the car one day with Bill who said he really didn't know much about the massacre until he started producing the film.  I agreed.  

Kerkorian died a few years ago.  It's too bad he didn't live to see this day. I like to think the film helps keep the story alive.

Stolen

 

I'm watching a good documentary on Netflix:  This is a Robbery.  It's about world famous paintings being stolen from a museum in Boston. This reminded me of a story I love to tell.  It was in my book.

Many years ago I was friendly with a man who owned a warehouse on the near south side.  The business specialized in small items stored for short periods of time.

One day a man came in with a package, left it for storage, took his claim ticket and left.  Over time, since no one picked it up, and since the package was sturdy and flat, someone put it next to the coffee machine.  It was a convenient surface for cups and sugar.

A few months later, the FBI arrived.  "We need to search the warehouse."  They found what they were looking for: the Cezanne painting stolen from the Art Institute.  It was undamaged except for a few coffee stains on the packaging.

The Courage and the Burden

 

The Courage and Burden of the Investigative Journalist

I have a friend who is a journalist.  Just starting out.  Just starting to catch the attention of publications around the country.  She is excited, enthusiastic and dedicated to bringing powerful, corrupt people to our attention. 

“These articles require so much research and detective work.  It is really time consuming.

And the pay is so low.  I just can’t quit my job.  I hope I’ll get some free lance marketing work soon.  Maybe that will free me up for my real passion.”

She went on to tell me how victims in this one story were coming forward to her every day.  She felt such a responsibility to them and to telling their truth.

Caught up in admiring her completely, I couldn’t help feeling a little dread.  “Please remember to protect yourself and your life”, I said.  “There are so many victims, so many stories”.