The diary we carry with us – part II

I recently learned that Marilu Henner, whom I loved in “Taxi,” has highly superior autobiographical memory (HSAM). It’s a rare condition, identified in only about 100 people in the world, which allows them to recall events and days with remarkable detail and accuracy. Ask Marilu where she was on April 30, 1980, and she’ll tell you not only where (Cancun), but the day of the week (Wednesday), the weather (beautiful that night and pouring the next day), who she was with (her then boyfriend and soon to be first husband), and what she was wearing (a cream-colored jumpsuit with harem pants) and drinking (tequila).

That’s one end of the memory spectrum. The other end, sadly not nearly as rare as HSAM, is Alzheimer’s disease. In its worst stages Alzheimer’s can wipe out speech, the ability to ambulate and manage one’s most basic functions, and, perhaps most horrible, one’s memory. As I wrote four years ago in what I didn’t know then was Part I of this column, “memory speaks to [our] inner self, knowing who loves us and whom we love, what we accomplished, when we succeeded in reaching our goals or suffered failures, where we left our mark, and how we lived our lives.” When we’ve lost memory, we’ve lost “what makes us, well, us.”

These are the two memory extremes. There is an in between, though. For example, people of a certain age (i.e., mine) often suffer from what we gently call senior moments, like not quickly remembering the name of a person we met at a Shabbat lunch a few months ago (not too scary), or of an acquaintance we recently chatted with at a meeting (a bit more disconcerting), or of a friend we’ve known for 30 years (ugh). But unlike with Alzheimer’s, those names often return, sometimes through effort and concentration and sometimes for no discernable reason, the latter often happening at 2 a.m. and disturbing an otherwise pleasant sleep. But we gladly accept that sleep interruption as the price for the serenity of recalling by ourselves that elusive name. Until, of course, it happens again.

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There’s yet another lack of memory: misremembering — sometimes deliberately — inconvenient historical facts. Examples of this phenomenon came to mind recently in connection with two national news stories: the death of former President Jimmy Carter and this year’s anniversary of the January 6, 2021 riot.

My feelings about President Carter, when I heard of his death, were a mixture of admiration and disappointment. When I mentioned this to a former legal colleague, I received pushback. “How can you have mixed feelings about someone who used ‘apartheid’ in the title of his book about  Israel — and worse?” he asked. Fair question, since there were many instances, in addition to his book, where Carter stepped over red lines with respect to Israel.

But that’s exactly why I said my feelings were mixed; because I remembered a  history my questioner seemed not to. I too remembered Carter’s seriously problematic attitude toward Israel. But I also remembered a time when Egypt was Israel’s major enemy in the region, with a dangerous border constantly crossed by fedayeen, resulting in numerous Israeli deaths; I remembered Nasser’s rantings against Israel in the lead up to the Six Day War; and I remembered the terrible losses to Israel inflicted in the Yom Kippur War when Egyptian troops blitzed across the Suez Canal into Sinai.

But I also remembered how this enmity — and blood, gore, and death — ended when the Camp David Accords established (a sadly cold) peace between Egypt and Israel, and most important in this context, the critical role Carter played in establishing that peace. These latter memories led me to balance my negative feelings with positive ones towards this peacemaker, who was in many ways a decent man, whose actions as ex-president were to help others rather than enrich himself, while traveling the world in support of democracy.

I understand how someone who misremembers the history of Egypt being Israel’s main enemy and Carter’s role in recasting that relationship and changing the face of the Middle East can question my mixed feelings. But misremembering uncomfortable facts does not change them or make them go away.

The same is true — indeed, worse — about the tragic events of January 6, 2021. It was only four years ago, but the misremembering of that day’s actual events started soon thereafter and is now in full throttle in the MAGA world. It was not, as falsely claimed, a “day of love” or a “normal tourist visit”; the rioters were not “great patriots” and “very special people”; neither the FBI nor Hezbollah were to blame. Rather, it was — and we must remember it as such — a day when violence and insurrection ruled; when Trump supporters, instigated by their leader, assaulted democracy, trampled the Constitution, and attempted to stop the counting of the Electoral College ballots; when members of Congress hid in fear for their lives, and Secret Service officers rushed the vice president to a secure location in the face of threats to hang him as a gallows loomed over the Capitol’s front steps; when insurrectionist thugs stormed the Capitol, broke windows and doors, looted offices, smeared feces on walls, and tore down American flags; when police officers were attacked, injured, and killed. And it was a day when the president shamefully sat by in silence for 187 minutes, ignoring the carnage nearby. To overlook what actually took place on that day of ignominy is an intentional failure of memory.

So when the president-elect, now a convicted felon, pledges that he will, upon taking office, most likely pardon many of the convicted felons responsible for those horrific acts, we need to remember — not misremember — what we actually saw, as I did, with our own eyes, in real time. And we must also remember how the judicial system gave those who were arrested the full protection of the rights granted by the very Constitution they sought to destroy. While some try to erase history by misremembering, we must strive to remember accurately, thus preserving the truth.

Memory is deeply precious to us. I was at a shiva call last week when visitors who didn’t know each other dredged up memories of times gone by, and using those memories made personal connections with each other. Indeed, a man I never previously met said, after making Jewish geography connections, “so you grew up on Cornaga.” Though he didn’t know me, by using his memory of others, he knew my home block and thus created a connection. Other visitors remembered classmates and linked them to the deceased. All these memories helped unite the group and the mourner in feelings of community, warmth, and love.

To push aside or distort memory, whether cherished and beloved or uncomfortable and difficult, is a serious mistake. We know, often from personal experience with family and friends, just how horrible Alzheimer’s can be when memories are forever gone. We cannot allow that to happen with still extant memories. We cannot allow ourselves to be inflicted with a historical Alzheimer’s.

Joseph C. Kaplan, a retired lawyer, longtime Teaneck resident, and regular columnist for the Jewish Standard and the New Jersey Jewish News, is the author of “A Passionate Writing Life: From ‘In my Opinion’ to ‘I’ve Been Thinking’” (available at Teaneck’s Judaica House). He and his wife, Sharon, have been blessed with four wonderful daughters and five delicious grandchildren.