Under the baobab: Paying respects to Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, a fallen American hero

In addition to formal prescribed rituals, people have ways to commemorate the passage of heroes especially when their leaving is tragic and/or unexpected.

President Lincoln’s body was carried on a funeral train from Washington to Springfield, Illinois. Thousands of people lined the tracks to pay silent tribute. His casket was taken off the train along the way to allow people their moment to mourn. It even rested for a while in Independence Hall in Philly.

In 1945 folks lined the tracks as the FDR funeral train made its way from Warm Springs, Georgia, to Washington, D.C., then on to Hyde Park, New York, its final resting place.

In 1963 the grief was the same but the media was different. It was the beginning of the television age. We all stayed glued to our television as the caisson carried President John Kennedy’s body to the eternal flame at Arlington National Cemetery. Millions around the world saw John-John salute his fallen father as the horse drawn carriage passed.

Five years later an assassin took Martin Luther King’s life. People in America’s Black communities exploded. Cities burned, grown men wept. In Harlem we were outraged. Everybody, everywhere vented their anger except in Indianapolis, where presidential candidate Robert Kennedy went into the city’s Black community. He calmed people. He said, “I too had a brother that was killed by a white man.” People listened and they mourned together.

Bobby was struck down by an assassin’s bullet himself, a few months later.

When August Wilson was buried in Pittsburgh in 2005, his long funeral caravan drove through the Hill District which he had celebrated in his Decade Series plays. We watched from the caravan as ordinary Hill residents lined the streets holding signs: “We love you August” and ”Thanks for giving us life.” We wept as the people honored and said goodbye to their champion.

Earlier this year Congressman John Lewis, as befitting a time of pandemic, had four different ceremonies, all broadcast on Zoom. There was a simple ceremony in his hometown of Troy, Alabama. In Selma his body was taken across the Edmund Pettis Bridge for the last time. He lay in state at the U.S. Capitol. He was the first Black man to do so. And there was a funeral at Ebenezer Baptist in Atlanta, where three former presidents and the speaker of the House eulogized him. We, being old school, paid our respects at the Capitol.

Last week during the high Holy Days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we returned to D.C. to pay our respects to another fallen American hero, felled not from an assassin’s bullet but from weariness. She grew exhausted holding up the bloodstained banner of justice for all. How will we the people commemorate Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, RBG ?

She had about 150 law clerks during her time on the bench, and 120 stood vigil with her earthly remains lying in state at the U.S. Supreme Court and at the Capitol. She was first woman to be so honored. One of those who stood vigil was Professor Steve Ross of the Penn State Law School. He and Jud Matthews organized a group of us to sit informal secular shiva the other night. At one point there were 125 people on the Zoom call telling stories about the “Notorious RBG.” She had presided over Steve’s marriage to Mary. Sometimes he was near tears as he told stories about his mentor and friend.

Others talked about how Justice Ginsburg emphasized that Supreme Court decisions were not academic exercises but real issues which affected real people. They said she insisted that clerks in her office “turn around” cases in 30 days because time mattered to the plaintiffs and defendants involved. She took care to take care.

RBG was the second woman to serve on the Supreme Court. She is considered by many to be the leading jurist for establishing gender rights for women, men, LGBT. She was a champion for the under-represented, the poor, the disenfranchised. She persuaded the Supreme Court to her point of view, to see women as full human beings entitled to equal protection and all other constitutional rights.

It is symbolic that Justice Ginsberg joined the ancestors at the beginning of the Holy Days. She is like the symbolic blowing of the shofar. Her passing calls out: “Sleepers, wake up from your slumber! Examine your ways and repent and remember.” She has held the banner high with dignity. It is up to us to keep it from falling to the ground.

Shanah Tovah, as we begin anew after a year of pain and disruption. RBG would have us remember not just our own discontent but to console and support those who have suffered even more. So that when the water recedes in November we may righteously say Gmar Tov.

Tzedek tzedek tirdof.