Sandhill Cranes and Hate

A Brother-in-Law Lends a Hand

On a whim, we packed up the van, and headed off from Boulder to the red state of Nebraska to see the sandhill cranes. From mid-February through mid-April the locals estimate a million sandhill cranes hang out along the North and South Platte Rivers that run through Nebraska. Seeing and hearing thousands of cranes in the air after sundown was a bucket list experience. Witnessing flight after flight of large birds was astounding, and the sound of the calls to one another, amazing.

The people we met were exceedingly helpful with information and offers of powerful binoculars, and questions about where we were from and what we thought of the cranes. We were all there for a common experience. No one appeared to care the smallest amount about politics. They were focused on the next flight of large birds overhead.

Nebraska is historically a red state, with a history of decent politicians and sending good people to the Senate; my personal favorites are Bob Kerrey (a Republican turned Democrat) and Ben Sasse. But for a red state, I was surprised to see so few political flags or signs. And the ones I saw were wind-battered and faded as if abandoned.

The next day we took US 30, the Lincoln Highway, west from Kearney through outback Nebraska. Some towns looked as though the locals took great pride in their community and worked to keep the streets and buildings clean and well-painted. Other towns looked gutted with boarded-up buildings, unkempt streets, and houses that needed paint and upkeep. I guessed agricultural prices, Covid, and drugs as the source(s) of decline.

We spent the evening with my brother-in-law Randy Tiley at his home that he built himself in Burns, Wyoming, on the Colorado-Nebraska border. Let me explain that I love Randy. I’m an agnostic with Druid leanings. He’s a true Christian, the kind of person that Jesus would want at his side. There isn’t a hateful bone in his body. He tries to help wherever he can. He seems a centrist who will listen to both sides of a political argument but wants to know what both sides have in common and how they can go forward together.

The conversation between Linda and her brother ranged over all sorts of topics. I mostly listened to family stories and tales of Fort Collins where they grew up, but when it came to politics I listened intently, and couldn’t help myself by saying something like, “What we are dealing with here is true evil. Take the closedown of USAID. What this means is that hundreds, if not thousands of malnourished kids in extremely poor countries are going to die of starvation.”

I was angry and yelling. In his calm Christian way, Randy looked at me and said, “I hear the same level of hate from the other side.” Now I was on a tear, “This is a fact, this isn’t about hate, there are records of the number of tons of food USAID has shipped to each country, and estimates of how many people were fed by that food. No kid in the third world should die because of retributive actions by a sociopath.”

“I understand,” he said, “But the other side claims their facts support their positions.” By now I’m on my hind legs, “Their facts are all lies! An entire political movement has been built on fear, racism, insecurity, and mistrust.”

“You hate them?” He asked.

“You bet I do.”

He looked at me in a sort of understanding way, the way I suspect Jesus would, as if to say that there was no difference between the hate the other side felt based on their facts and hate I felt for them based on my facts.

I stared at him silently for a moment. And then a huge light bulb illuminates above the head of this cartoon character. He drops down to all four legs and begins to think.

What Randy was trying to teach me is that hate is hate, that it doesn’t matter what side you are on, the hate you feel is exactly the same as the hate they feel. And as long as the hate goes on, nothing is going to resolve the issues between the two groups that hate each other.

This is self-evident. Look at the Sunni-Shia split in the Middle East. Intractable hate.

What Randy was gracious enough not to say is that I am exactly like the people I hate. Exactly like them. I have an irrational, intense, loathing of another group of people because of their political position.

I must stop this. My hate isn’t doing me any good. My hate isn’t improving the situation. if anything it is collectively making the situation worse.

I need to spend a good deal more time figuratively and literally in Nebraska.

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