Latest news with #JamesMoore
Yahoo
14-07-2025
- Climate
- Yahoo
A deadly 1987 flood foreshadowed the Texas disaster. Survivors ask, ‘why didn't we learn?'
The rain was pouring down in Texas in the early morning hours of 17 July 1987. James Moore, a reporter for a local NBC news station, was stationed in Austin when his editors called and told him to grab his camera operator and head to Kerrville, a Hill Country town about 100 miles (160km) away. They'd heard reports of flash flooding on the Guadalupe River. 'We just jumped in the car when it was still dark … we knew there were going to be problems based on how much rain there was,' Moore said. En route, he got another call over the radio that told him to head instead for the small hamlet of Comfort, just 15 miles from Kerrville. 'They said: 'Hey, head up towards Comfort,'' Moore recalled. ''Something's happened.'' At about 7.45am, a caravan of buses had left a children's church camp at the Pot O' Gold Ranch as they tried to evacuate the Guadalupe's surging waters, which eventually rose nearly 30ft (9 meters) during the ferocious, slow-moving rainstorm. According to a report by the National Weather Service, a bus and a van had stalled on an overflowing river crossing. As kids rushed to escape the vehicles, they were hit by a massive wave of water – estimated to be a half mile wide – that swept away 43 people. Thirty-three of them were rescued, but 10 children drowned. Moore arrived at a scene of chaos. Helicopters clattered overhead as people scrambled in a frantic search for the injured and missing. Then he and his camera operator caught sight of something horrifying. 'We unfortunately found one of the bodies of the kids,' Moore said. 'All we saw was the legs under a brush pile and we alerted the authorities.' Nearly 40 years later, it felt like history repeating itself. Last week, in the early morning hours of 4 July, another flash flood hit the Guadalupe. This time, though, the wall of water was sizeably bigger, and came in the middle of the night and during one of the area's busiest holiday weekends. The death toll is now nearly 130 people with more than 160 still missing. The loss of life includes 27 campers and counselors from Camp Mystic, a girls' camp several miles upriver from Comfort. For many who lived through the tragedy in Comfort, they see the 1987 flood as a harbinger for what washed through Hill Country on the Fourth of July. '[The 1987 flood] was called the 'big one' back then. This is 100 times over what we experienced,' said Emily Davis. She was a 10-year-old at Camp Capers, another church camp up the road from the Pot O' Gold Ranch, when the 1987 flood hit. 'Why didn't they learn from this? Why wasn't there a better system?' After the Independence Day floods devastated Kerr county last week, Donald Trump described the scene as 'a 100-year catastrophe'. 'This was the thing that happened in seconds,' he added. 'Nobody expected it.' But Hill Country is no stranger to these disasters, and has even earned itself the moniker 'flash flood alley'. Its chalky limestone cliffs, winding waterways and dry rocky landscape have made it ground zero for some of the deadliest flash floods nationwide. Hill Country's proximity to the Gulf of Mexico and its ocean moisture have also made it a prime target for drenching thunderstorms. The US Geological Survey calculates that the Guadalupe has experienced noteworthy flash floods almost every decade since the 1930s. In 1998, it recorded a flood that surpassed even 500-year flood projections. Other rivers in Hill Country, including the Pedernales and Blanco, have also seen deadly flash floods. 'What makes Kerr county so beautiful, the reason why people want to go there … is literally the reason why it's so dangerous,' said Tom Di Liberto, a meteorologist who formerly worked at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (Noaa) and is now with the non-profit Climate Central. 'The risk is always there.' During the 1987 floods, as in 2025, news reports and video footage captured a harrowing scene: the Guadalupe's surging muddy waters downing 100ft-tall cypress trees, as dead deer and the siding of houses rushed by. Helicopters circling overhead trying to rescue people clinging to the tops of trees, stranded in the middle of the river. Davis said that even though she was just a kid, she remembers the helicopters and army trucks swarming the area. She even took a photo of one of the helicopters above with her Le Clic camera. Camp Capers was up a hill, she said, so the children there were able to shelter in place. But, she said, the mood was tense. 'We were told that 10 didn't make it,' Davis said. 'It just became very haunted and eerie. I wanted nothing to do with that river.' The day was marked by a series of awful events. One 14-year-old girl in the Guadalupe grabbed a rope hanging from a helicopter but was unable to hang on long enough and fell to her death. Another girl caught in the river's waves kept trying to grab a helicopter rope, but lost strength and was swept away. A teenager, John Bankston Jr, worked to save the younger kids when the camp bus stalled, carrying them on his back to dry land. He was in the river when the wall of water hit. Bankston was the only person whose body was never recovered. Moore, the local reporter, said his TV station sent out a helicopter and they helped search for people. 'We were flying up and down the river looking for survivors,' Moore said. 'Later in the day, John Bankston Sr got in the helicopter and we flew him up and down the river for hours looking for his son.' 'I covered a lot of horrific stuff, from the Branch Davidians and earthquakes and hurricanes and Oklahoma City,' said Moore, who is now an author. 'And this one has haunted me, just because of the kids.' That year, the Texas water commission's flood management unit made a dedication to the children who lost their lives in Comfort. 'When something like this occurs, we must all look into ourselves to see if we are doing all we can to prevent such a tragic loss of life,' read the dedication, written by Roy Sedwick, then state coordinator for the unit. Sedwick wrote that he was resolved to promote public awareness and flood warnings in Texas, 'so that future generations will be safe from the ravages of flash floods'. The National Weather Service's storm report from the 1987 flood in Comfort paints more unsettling parallels with last week's tragedy. Up to 11.5in (29cm) of rain fell near the small hamlet of Hunt that day, causing the river to surge 29ft. A massive flood wave emerged and travelled down the Guadalupe to Comfort. During the recent floods in Kerr county, an estimated 12in of rain fell in a matter of hours during another heavy, slow-moving thunderstorm. This time, Hunt was the hardest hit, with the Guadalupe River again rising dozens of feet and setting a record-high crest of at least 37.5ft at its peak, according to the US Geological Survey. Many people along the river were given little to no warning. The National Weather Service issued 22 alerts through the night and into the next day. But in the rural area, where cell service can be spotty, many residents said they didn't get the alerts or they came too late, after the flash flood hit. No alerts were sent by Kerr county's local government officials. Other parts of Hill Country, such as in Comal county and on the Pedernales River, have siren systems. When high flood waters trigger the system, they blare 'air raid' sirens giving notice to evacuate and get to high ground. In Comfort, the 1987 tragedy still casts a shadow over the town. But on 4 July, the hamlet avoided much of the disaster that hit neighboring communities. Comfort recently worked to scrape together enough money to expand its own emergency warning system and installed sirens that are set off during floods. Over the last year, the volunteer fire department sounded the alarm every day at noon, so residents could learn to recognize the long flat tone. So, when the raging Guadalupe waters once again rushed toward Comfort over the holiday weekend, sirens echoed throughout the town. This time, the volunteer fire department confirmed, all residents evacuated in time and there was no loss of life. Kerr county, meanwhile, had been looking at installing a flood siren system for the past decade. But the plan got mired in political infighting and ultimately stalled when the county was presented with a $1m price tag. Earlier this year, state lawmakers introduced a house bill to fund early warning systems across Texas that could have included siren towers along the Guadalupe. And even though the bill overwhelmingly passed in the house, it died in the senate. In the aftermath of the 4 July catastrophe, the state says it will now fund such a system. While it's impossible to say whether such a warning system would have changed the outcome, given the massive expanse of Kerr county, experts say these types of weather events are going to keep happening and intensifying, so communities need to be prepared. 'This is a conversation for the entire country when it comes to areas that are prone to flash floods,' said the meteorologist Di Liberto. 'Are we doing enough as a society to warn people?'
The Guardian
14-07-2025
- Climate
- The Guardian
A deadly 1987 flood foreshadowed the Texas disaster. Survivors ask, ‘why didn't we learn?'
The rain was pouring down in Texas in the early morning hours of 17 July 1987. James Moore, a reporter for a local NBC news station, was stationed in Austin when his editors called and told him to grab his camera operator and head to Kerrville, a Hill Country town about 100 miles (160km) away. They'd heard reports of flash flooding on the Guadalupe River. 'We just jumped in the car when it was still dark … we knew there were going to be problems based on how much rain there was,' Moore said. En route, he got another call over the radio that told him to head instead for the small hamlet of Comfort, just 15 miles from Kerrville. 'They said: 'Hey, head up towards Comfort,'' Moore recalled. ''Something's happened.'' At about 7.45am, a caravan of buses had left a children's church camp at the Pot O' Gold Ranch as they tried to evacuate the Guadalupe's surging waters, which eventually rose nearly 30ft (9 meters) during the ferocious, slow-moving rainstorm. According to a report by the National Weather Service, a bus and a van had stalled on an overflowing river crossing. As kids rushed to escape the vehicles, they were hit by a massive wave of water – estimated to be a half mile wide – that swept away 43 people. Thirty-three of them were rescued, but 10 children drowned. Moore arrived at a scene of chaos. Helicopters clattered overhead as people scrambled in a frantic search for the injured and missing. Then he and his camera operator caught sight of something horrifying. 'We unfortunately found one of the bodies of the kids,' Moore said. 'All we saw was the legs under a brush pile and we alerted the authorities.' Nearly 40 years later, it felt like history repeating itself. Last week, in the early morning hours of 4 July, another flash flood hit the Guadalupe. This time, though, the wall of water was sizeably bigger, and came in the middle of the night and during one of the area's busiest holiday weekends. The death toll is now nearly 130 people with more than 160 still missing. The loss of life includes 27 campers and counselors from Camp Mystic, a girls' camp several miles upriver from Comfort. For many who lived through the tragedy in Comfort, they see the 1987 flood as a harbinger for what washed through Hill Country on the Fourth of July. '[The 1987 flood] was called the 'big one' back then. This is 100 times over what we experienced,' said Emily Davis. She was a 10-year-old at Camp Capers, another church camp up the road from the Pot O' Gold Ranch, when the 1987 flood hit. 'Why didn't they learn from this? Why wasn't there a better system?' After the Independence Day floods devastated Kerr county last week, Donald Trump described the scene as 'a 100-year catastrophe'. 'This was the thing that happened in seconds,' he added. 'Nobody expected it.' But Hill Country is no stranger to these disasters, and has even earned itself the moniker 'flash flood alley'. Its chalky limestone cliffs, winding waterways and dry rocky landscape have made it ground zero for some of the deadliest flash floods nationwide. Hill Country's proximity to the Gulf of Mexico and its ocean moisture have also made it a prime target for drenching thunderstorms. The US Geological Survey calculates that the Guadalupe has experienced noteworthy flash floods almost every decade since the 1930s. In 1998, it recorded a flood that surpassed even 500-year flood projections. Other rivers in Hill Country, including the Pedernales and Blanco, have also seen deadly flash floods. 'What makes Kerr county so beautiful, the reason why people want to go there … is literally the reason why it's so dangerous,' said Tom Di Liberto, a meteorologist who formerly worked at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (Noaa) and is now with the non-profit Climate Central. 'The risk is always there.' During the 1987 floods, as in 2025, news reports and video footage captured a harrowing scene: the Guadalupe's surging muddy waters downing 100ft-tall cypress trees, as dead deer and the siding of houses rushed by. Helicopters circling overhead trying to rescue people clinging to the tops of trees, stranded in the middle of the river. Davis said that even though she was just a kid, she remembers the helicopters and army trucks swarming the area. She even took a photo of one of the helicopters above with her Le Clic camera. Camp Capers was up a hill, she said, so the children there were able to shelter in place. But, she said, the mood was tense. 'We were told that 10 didn't make it,' Davis said. 'It just became very haunted and eerie. I wanted nothing to do with that river.' The day was marked by a series of awful events. One 14-year-old girl in the Guadalupe grabbed a rope hanging from a helicopter but was unable to hang on long enough and fell to her death. Another girl caught in the river's waves kept trying to grab a helicopter rope, but lost strength and was swept away. A teenager, John Bankston Jr, worked to save the younger kids when the camp bus stalled, carrying them on his back to dry land. He was in the river when the wall of water hit. Bankston was the only person whose body was never recovered. Moore, the local reporter, said his TV station sent out a helicopter and they helped search for people. 'We were flying up and down the river looking for survivors,' Moore said. 'Later in the day, John Bankston Sr got in the helicopter and we flew him up and down the river for hours looking for his son.' 'I covered a lot of horrific stuff, from the Branch Davidians and earthquakes and hurricanes and Oklahoma City,' said Moore, who is now an author. 'And this one has haunted me, just because of the kids.' That year, the Texas water commission's flood management unit made a dedication to the children who lost their lives in Comfort. 'When something like this occurs, we must all look into ourselves to see if we are doing all we can to prevent such a tragic loss of life,' read the dedication, written by Roy Sedwick, then state coordinator for the unit. Sedwick wrote that he was resolved to promote public awareness and flood warnings in Texas, 'so that future generations will be safe from the ravages of flash floods'. The National Weather Service's storm report from the 1987 flood in Comfort paints more unsettling parallels with last week's tragedy. Up to 11.5in (29cm) of rain fell near the small hamlet of Hunt that day, causing the river to surge 29ft. A massive flood wave emerged and travelled down the Guadalupe to Comfort. During the recent floods in Kerr county, an estimated 12in of rain fell in a matter of hours during another heavy, slow-moving thunderstorm. This time, Hunt was the hardest hit, with the Guadalupe River again rising dozens of feet and setting a record-high crest of at least 37.5ft at its peak, according to the US Geological Survey. Many people along the river were given little to no warning. The National Weather Service issued 22 alerts through the night and into the next day. But in the rural area, where cell service can be spotty, many residents said they didn't get the alerts or they came too late, after the flash flood hit. No alerts were sent by Kerr county's local government officials. Other parts of Hill Country, such as in Comal county and on the Pedernales River, have siren systems. When high flood waters trigger the system, they blare 'air raid' sirens giving notice to evacuate and get to high ground. In Comfort, the 1987 tragedy still casts a shadow over the town. But on 4 July, the hamlet avoided much of the disaster that hit neighboring communities. Comfort recently worked to scrape together enough money to expand its own emergency warning system and installed sirens that are set off during floods. Over the last year, the volunteer fire department sounded the alarm every day at noon, so residents could learn to recognize the long flat tone. So, when the raging Guadalupe waters once again rushed toward Comfort over the holiday weekend, sirens echoed throughout the town. This time, the volunteer fire department confirmed, all residents evacuated in time and there was no loss of life. Kerr county, meanwhile, had been looking at installing a flood siren system for the past decade. But the plan got mired in political infighting and ultimately stalled when the county was presented with a $1m price tag. Earlier this year, state lawmakers introduced a house bill to fund early warning systems across Texas that could have included siren towers along the Guadalupe. And even though the bill overwhelmingly passed in the house, it died in the senate. In the aftermath of the 4 July catastrophe, the state says it will now fund such a system. While it's impossible to say whether such a warning system would have changed the outcome, given the massive expanse of Kerr county, experts say these types of weather events are going to keep happening and intensifying, so communities need to be prepared. 'This is a conversation for the entire country when it comes to areas that are prone to flash floods,' said the meteorologist Di Liberto. 'Are we doing enough as a society to warn people?'
CTV News
08-07-2025
- Politics
- CTV News
James Moore: Protecting our democracy from rising political violence
RCMP officers wait outside of MLA Bowinn Ma's office after an explosion early in the morning in North Vancouver, B.C. on Friday, June 27, 2025. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Ethan Cairns James Moore is a former federal cabinet minister under prime minister Stephen Harper, and a columnist for Choosing to be a politician is, I am heartbroken to say, a dangerous decision. And the dangers are more constant, passionate and persistent than ever. It was just over three weeks ago that Minnesota House Speaker Melissa Hortman and her husband were assassinated by a deranged political opponent. Minnesota lawmakers shot Pictures of Mark and Melissa Hortman are set up inside the sanctuary at the Basilica of St. Mary's during funeral services for Mark and Melissa Hortman in Minneapolis, Minn., on Saturday, June 28, 2025. (Alex Kormann/Star Tribune via AP, Pool) Last week, B.C. Infrastructure Minister Bowinn Ma appeared to be targeted when an explosion struck her office. No one was physically hurt, an investigation is ongoing, but this wasn't a random event at an arbitrary office. This was political violence. Next week will mark the one-year anniversary of the near assassination of U.S. President Donald Trump as he campaigned in Western Pennsylvania. Even though he was surrounded by some of the most sophisticated and well-armed protective services in the world, it is said that but for an inch of differentiation of marksmanship, flinch or windage, he would have been assassinated. Corey Comperatore, a 50-year-old married father of two, was struck and killed that day, and two others were badly wounded. Last September, former NDP leader Jagmeet Singh was harassed outside of Parliament Hill and almost got into a physical confrontation and Conservative Leader Pierre Poilievre has been subject to death threats and public threats against his wife triggered an RCMP investigation. And three years ago, an infamous video surfaced of Minister Chrystia Freeland being verbally assaulted and confronted by a large and aggressive goon during a visit to Grande Prairie. I remember an event back in January of 2014 in Vancouver, when then-prime minister Stephen Harper was speaking at a luncheon hosted by the Greater Vancouver Board of Trade that exposed the fragility of our security arrangements for political leaders. That day, all was going well at the luncheon until suddenly four protesters took over the event and managed to find their way into a supposedly secured room, on a supposedly secured floor, in a supposedly secured building, on a supposedly secured street entrance for the Prime Minister of Canada. Stephen Harper in 2013 A protester holds a sign during an event with then prime minister Stephen Harper at the Vancouver Board of Trade on Monday Jan. 6, 2014. THE CANADIAN PRESS/Jonathan Hayward They got within two feet of Canada's prime minister, stood over him menacingly, and, thankfully, merely held up a sign that read 'climate justice now.' But if they had violence on their mind, that day could very easily have been tragic. We were lucky, we were not prepared. I fear that our luck is running out and that we are still not prepared. Increasing threats We have example after example that are exposed day after day after day. Ask any Member of Parliament, or any member of a provincial legislature, or almost any mayor or high-profile public office holder (like our Medical Health Officers during COVID) about the threats they have received, and you will begin a long, frightening and appalling conversation about the state of incivility, crudeness, viciousness and fear that happens regularly. And, yes, it is getting worse. The Parliamentary Protective Service in Ottawa, the Sergeants-at-Arms of almost all our provincial legislatures — who are tasked with the security of the legislatures — have all reported increases in threat counts and their severity. The RCMP and other police services regularly report the same. These threats are getting out of control. I have worried for a long time, and many others who have served in public office will agree, that it feels like we're on a trajectory for a tragedy. Most people feel that another serious violent attack, perhaps a deadly one, is only a matter of time. The trend of our politics towards ugliness, personal destruction, excessively aggressive language, seemingly constant confrontation, and fear and anger as a magic catalyst for that precious voter turnout is all on a course for tragedy. So, what can be done? Fortunately, we are increasingly aware and awake of the problem. Parliament Hill's security was shaken to the core and forever changed as a consequence of the October 2014 shootings that left Cpl. Nathan Cirillo dead, a member of the House of Commons security team with a gunshot wound, and an entire capitol traumatized. The security around the prime minister, our premiers, federal party leaders, provincial opposition leaders has been increased, and not just when they're on Parliament Hill or at their respective provincial legislatures, but when they are out in public or at home. But even with these improvements, most people would be shocked to know how little security many of our political leaders have. When they appear at public events, they are extraordinarily vulnerable. I often find it very uncomfortable at times seeing how close people can get to our prime minister and premiers without being challenged or screened in any meaningful way. Cabinet ministers, legislators and others in public office should be furnished with panic buttons, security systems, cameras, and, if necessary, physical security whenever it is warranted. These tools are available and affordable and can make many situations significantly less threatening. They should all be made available wherever they are not already. Further, staff members need to be trained in crisis management, communication and risk mitigation. Too often they are vulnerable and alone to disturbing confrontations and they need to be supported. Finally, political parties have a significant role to play in protecting and supporting their candidates. We need to tell people who are eager to run for office that running for office is not for the faint of heart. Political parties try to lure people into running by upselling the privileges and the opportunities to serve in public life. What they fail to typically tell candidates, out of the fear of losing an attractive political prospect, is that they are entering into a world that is increasingly dark and potentially dangerous. They need to be told the truth about the cruelty of social media and what they may be exposed to. And, most importantly, political parties need to support their candidates, mentor them, and protect their candidates when they don't feel safe. For Canada to be successfully and effectively governed, we need to draw into public life the best and the brightest, the decent and kind, the substantive, the energetic and the empathetic. It is becoming more difficult with every passing election to find people of high quality who are willing to run for office. We must do a significantly better job of recognizing the growing reality of political violence and taking all necessary steps to protect our democracy.
CTV News
26-06-2025
- Politics
- CTV News
James Moore: A summer reading list to replenish the mind
James Moore is a former federal cabinet minister under prime minister Stephen Harper, and a columnist for The summer break from the federal Parliament — and from our provincial legislatures — offers our political leaders an opportunity to refuel. Federally, this has been a long year. The resignation of a prime minister, a leadership race for the governing party, the installation of a new prime minister, the tense federal election campaign, the throne speech by King Charles III, the G7 in Alberta, the first ministers' meeting in Saskatoon, promises to 'build baby build' and generationally unprecedented nation-binding infrastructure. It's been a very busy legislative agenda, and all of this while the president of the United States persists in his trade war and tariff agenda and has the world on edge with his approach to foreign policy. So, yes, a breather is needed. A break, a mental reset and some distance from the tumult of the first half of 2025 to gain some perspective and grounding is in order. What is also in order, and ought to be a passion of those aspiring to meaningful contributions while in office, is some intellectual restocking. Most people arrive in office with a head full of ideas and a motor to grind through the travel, meetings, expectations and muck to try to see their ideas come to life. But the mind, body and spirit can wane over time, particularly when you've had a half-year like we've experience so far in 2025. Just as the body needs to rest and our relationships and community bonds need to be reestablished in the summer months, so, too must the intellectual capital be replenished by our leaders if they are to be of full value to Canadians in the balance of 2025 and beyond. With that in mind, I humbly offer a suggested summer reading list for those looking to take a few weeks and slow down, nourish the mind, and return in the fall with some needed intellectual replenishment. 'The Morning After: The 1995 Québec Referendum and the Day that Almost Was,' by Chantal Hébert and the late Jean Lapierre. Published in 2014 about the referendum of secession in Québec in 1995, this book is a documented warning about the dangers of setting in motion a political event that stirs all the divisions and passions that exist in our country, and not having a clue as to what comes next should your argument succeed. It is an incredible snapshot of a hinge moment in Canadian political history and full of lessons to be learned – something that will be useful as we approach the Québec election in 2026 and the anti-Canada referendum agenda of some in Alberta. The Morning After The 1995 Quebec Referendum and the Day that Almost Was (Penguin Random House Canada) 'Nation Maker: Sir John A. Macdonald: His Life, Our Times,' by Richard Gwyn, published in 2012 is simply essential reading for anyone wanting to understand Canada's founding and our first and most important prime minister. This is the second volume of Gwyn's biography of Macdonald, and it is his best. It eviscerates any argument that Canadian history is in any way dull, or that the creation and enduring existence of Canada was in any way a guarantee. Creating Canada was complex, at times tragic, at times inspirational, strategic, responsible and forever a fight against incredible odds. Without Sir John A. Macdonald, there is no Canada. A must read. Nation Maker: Sir John A. Macdonald: His Life, Our Times,' (Random House Canada) 'At the Centre of Government: The Prime Minister and the Limits on Political Power,' published in 2018 and authored by Ian Brodie, offers real world insight into the workings of the office of the prime minister of Canada. A political scientist who also served as chief of staff to Prime Minister Harper, Ian is one of the most respected voices in Canada at explaining where political science and theory, practical governing and real-world politics collide and how one can find success in navigating these conflicting storms. Chip War: The Quest to Dominate the World's Most Critical Technology (McGill-Queen's University Press) 'Chip War: The Quest to Dominate the World's Most Critical Technology,' by Chris Miller, is a primer on the intersection of economics, technology and geopolitics. Semiconductor dominance is a linchpin for 21st century power and the tiny chips inside all our devices – and who controls them – will shape global politics, great power competition and, possibly, future military conflict. While the world is rightfully focused on the wars in Ukraine, Gaza and Iran, tensions between China and Taiwan and the United States and its allies and China hinge on the fight of the fight for control over this technology. It is fundamental that our decision makers grasp the issues at hand and inform themselves of the dynamics at play. Chip War: The Quest to Dominate the World's Most Critical Technology (Scribner) 'The Second Mountain: The Quest for a Moral Life,' by David Brooks. This book hit me hard in all the right ways. It is about taking stock of one's life and understanding that professional accomplishment, resume building and career goals are an important mountain to climb in life – for a sense of purpose, contribution, financial stability and fulfillment. But, once scaled, there awaits a 'second mountain.' As Bono once said: 'the summit of aspirations can be a lonely place' and leave you feeling less satisfied than you imagined you'd be. The finding a different mountain to climb based on what Brooks calls 'eulogy virtues' – the things about your character and commitments that people will say about you once you've passed from this world – is something that will confront us in time, if we're fortunate. Finding that second mountain of a life well lived and learning the virtues of living a life through service to others, caring for your family, volunteerism, community building, these are the things that lead to a truly more meaningful life. The Second Mountain: The Quest for a Moral Life (Random House Trade Paperbacks) More from James Moore:
Yahoo
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Everyone needs a champion like my whiskey neat-loving Granchar
Michael Caven is a practicing psychotherapist in Da Nang, Vietnam. He co-founded Out on Main, the nation's first LGBTQ themed restaurant in Columbus. My beloved Granchar was my very own Auntie Mame. We had our secrets because she understood me. 'We were all born bored, Mike-o,' she'd tell me. 'We need some excitement! Keep things interesting.' Granchar knew I was different. In secret, we'd apply clear nail polish to my dainty little fingers because I liked how it all made me feel—putting on nail polish and Granchar's Shalimar perfume were our delicious little secrets. But soon enough, my grandfather would realize what we were up to. Opinion: Dublin classmate's message wrecked me. We learned from same cruel teacher. 'He'll grow up to be a fruit!' he would bellow. But Granchar and I didn't care. Still, I liked the femininity of these games. 'Such a pretty girl,' she'd say. 'And I smell so pretty, too!' I exclaimed. Granchar was short for Grandma Charlotte Moore (I stuttered as a kid, so we settled on a shortened version). My grandfather, James Moore, was a judge in Marianna, their small town in the Florida Panhandle. The French Quarter in New Orleans and all the strange and weird happenings were catnip for my grandparents in the 1950s. They had a regular drag haunt, and on every visit, the flamboyant emcee planted a huge, wet, and drowning-in-red lipstick kiss smack on Grandpomp's lips, to his absolute delight. During my summer respites in Marianna from Long Island—my hometown— Granchar would take me to Tallahassee to see the latest John Waters film. More: What you need to know about Jon Waters Her best friend Eloise was the mother of drag icon Divine's longtime make-up artist Van Smith. 'I love my specials,'Granchar would say, curating pink flamingos on her front lawn on Green Street in Marianna as a sign to local folk who don't fit in that they are welcome to share their stories with her. She'd listen intently with a cigarette in one hand and a whiskey neat in the other. 'Hey Trans.' I shuddered when the neighborhood bully back on Long Island called me that name. My parents were doing the best they could to bulldoze the "homo" out of me, despite my frequent adolescent fantasies about Bruce Jenner. My deep fear that classmates would hear that name and taunt me came true, and I was devastated. I tried to kill myself with mom's tranquilizers and pain pills, but only got sick. My stepfather took me to the garage and had me punch the punching bag over and over with instructions that the next day I'd sucker punch the bully on the school bus. I did, and we pummeled each other all the way to school. I never heard the name "Trans" again. I'm not condoning physical violence. Still, I found the physical altercation terrifying and strangely empowering. Years later, I'd co-found Out on Main, the nation's first LGBTQ themed restaurant, in Columbus. And of course Granchar loved sitting at our bar, cigarette and whiskey in hand, and hold court surrounded by a dozen admirers. 'You have the coolest grandmother ever,' one of her fans told me. 'I know,' I replied. 'I am so lucky.' And I no longer shudder when I hear the word trans. I wish everyone had a Granchar to champion them. If you are questioning your gender, identity, or sexual orientation, there are supportive organizations in central Ohio like Stonewall Columbus, Kaleidoscope Youth Center and Equality Ohio,to name a few. And if you look hard enough, you'll find your very own Granchar. My Granchar rests in peace in St. Luke's Episcopal Church cemetery, off Lafayette Street in Marianna, alongside my grandfather. Nearby is Gov. John Milton, a villain of the Civil War. I prefer to think that Granchar is spilling the tea at the Out on Main in the sky with her special angels. Happy Pride, everyone. Michael Caven is a practicing psychotherapist in Da Nang, Vietnam, and co-founder of Out on Main, the nation's first LGBTQ themed restaurant in Columbus. His memoir-in-development, "Spilling the Tea," chronicles his adventures at Out on Main and a Texas gay bar empire. His website is This article originally appeared on The Columbus Dispatch: There's a champion like my Granchar for Columbus LGBTQ people | Opinion
