As it did for many of us who came of age in the age of protest, i.e., the ‘60’s, the narrative of John McCain’s capture and torture at the hands of the Viet Cong was compelling enough to obviate my personal feelings about the war in Vietnam, all the more so because of my own father’s death in the Southeast Asian theater of WWII. In reading the outpouring of John McCain stories which appeared in the media after his death, two things I had not known about him resonated strongly. Two things I had not known the two of us had in common.
Two surprising things I had unsurprisingly neither known nor ever read because John McCain, despite his outsized public persona, kept his family and home life private and shielded from public view: one of Cindy and John McCain’s seven children is an adopted Bangladeshi daughter, and John McCain was a birdwatcher. Who knew!? But I can relate to both these things.
Apparently someone knew about Bridget, the McCain’s adopted daughter, because during the 2000 Republican Primary thousands of South Carolina voters received calls asking if they knew candidate McCain had a “black baby” or had fathered one. In 1971 Deva and I, ever the ‘60’s progressives, had adopted a bi-racial son, and subsequently in the early ‘80s experienced on a smaller scale at a local level what the McCains were to endure two decades later at the national level. Social progress moves slowly.
But the birdwatching thing makes me smile. McCain was not a native Arizonan but transplanted here, raised his children here, and purchased their “ranch” on Oak Creek southwest of Sedona because of his love of nature and the serenity it offered at the end of a dirt road, isolated and surrounded by wildlife and scenic splendor. The Cornville residence was the family’s happy place, and they purchased the land across the creek because of the deer and other animals they enjoyed observing there. The future of that space has been pledged to the Audubon Society.
One of McCain’s sons relates that often the first thing the family would do when they arrived at the ranch in spring or summer was to check on the “endangered” hawks to see how their nesting was progressing. This comment most likely refers to Common Black Hawks, not endangered by any means, but certainly uncommon and beautiful raptors, awesome to behold by even the most casual birdwatcher.
“Common . . . but certainly uncommon” seems the perfect epitaph for a maverick who spent a thirty-five year political career putting country before party and principle before ideology. And on trips home to the ranch apparently the first thing he picked up was a pair of binoculars. Here’s a quote from his son—“He’ll probably be mad at me for admitting this: he loves birdwatching.”
I can never forgive John McCain for Sarah Palin, but I have tears in my eyes now, and I want to hug him and tell him the birdwatching thing is alright because it’s not unmanly, and because the bonds that tie us to nature are as deep as the ones that should tie us all to one another. The last time I checked, we all bled the same color blood and shared the same dreams and desires. It gives me hope to know that Bridget has brown skin and her father was a birdwatcher.