RIP Harry Gorman, Conservative Agitator, Patriot
I lost my 98-year-old grandfather last week. Harry Gorman was a hugely influential figure with his 2 sons, his 4 grandchildren, and his 7 great-grandchildren. An immigrant Jew who lost most of his family in the Holocaust, he was a husband, father, printer, diamond-cutter, inventor (he invented the cardboard phonograph record, which my contemporaries will recall on the backs of cereal boxes or in National Geographic magazines in the late ’60s and ’70s), mayor, philanthropist, gardener extraordinaire, dance instructor, naturalist, a hard-core right-wing conservative agitator, and a patriot. He taught me much about politics (though we didn’t agree on much), work ethic, entrepreneurship, and importantly, how to die well.
Until his last breath my grandfather warned obsessively in his daily blog posts about the decline of the American economy, about the “traitorous” conduct of our elected officials on both sides of the aisle who allowed our national debt to spiral out of control, about the dangers of doing business with China, about the hazards of illegal immigration (though a refugee himself, one of his more famous essays was titled “Joe Legal vs. Jose Illegal”). His blog — “Grandpa’s Cleansing Shower” lives on here — but I accept no responsibility for those offended by its content. You were warned: the guy was brilliant but frozen in 1950s American values and was somewhere to the right of Genghis Khan (e.g., his post “Motherhood — Still the Most Beautiful Career in the World” — a great poem imploring women to stay home with the kids. Yeesh).
Like I said, we didn’t agree on much. He practically had a stroke when I told him I was going to work for President Clinton back in 1993. But you always knew where Harry came down on an issue, and his passion was based on a primordial love of this country. How many nonagenarians do you know who daily implored his peers to call their elected officials? His many years of successful public service as Mayor of Greenville, NY — he was re-elected but only served two terms as a term-limit advocate, and never left office with a budget out of balance — showed him how politics can work — or fail. He talked the talk because he had walked the walk.
He was a true conservative, who held conservative values but who also believed in conservation and naturalism, a
Roosevelt-style environmentalist. He was as fascinated by the behavior of lionesses or honeybees as he was about the national debt. He and my late grandmother were fanatical gardeners, born of an abiding fascination with God’s wonders. He would see God’s hand in a perfect ripe tomato or a fish from his pond. At its height they could have fed half of Greenville with that magnificent garden of theirs. Making things grow — whether it was flowers, cucumbers or great-grandchildren — was Harry’s greatest joy.
Harry firmly believed you don’t stop laughing because you grow old, you grow old because you stop laughing. You don’t make it to 98 without a few laughs — especially about the serious stuff he trafficked in. His last joke to me, about a month ago : “Johnny…a liberal, a conservative, and a moderate walk into a bar. Bartender says, ‘Hello, Mitt.'”
He was a tortured man, screaming his warnings of America’s decline to anyone who would listen, driving himself slightly mad by his inability to do anything about it except make noise. He failed 2 suicide attempts in his last year. If he was serene about anything, it was his readiness to die, and he welcomed his final peace. He made his wishes clear, and he passed comfortably in his sleep, with the dignity he deserved and insisted on. His passing reconfirmed my passion for end of life issues — we should all die so well, and so well prepared.
Andy Rooney once said “The best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person.” He was right on. Harry Gorman, patriot and patriarch, is missed, but his lessons that stand the test of time will live on.