I am in no ways close to her-- however, I am an inveterate letter writer, and experienced at writing to people I have not met-- I’m that old, too-- people used to do that regularly, and not just for business, but socially.
PM me the details, and I shall send her a handwritten letter on lovely stationery. I will include my own snail address, as well as my text number, and my email, and hope that she will take a few minutes to get in touch somehow, and give me permission to relay information.
She was one of the greatest women who ever lived, but in a world where the most qualified woman alive can’t win over a demented Cheeto with a penis, well. World is kinda fucked up like that.
Recognizing it doesn’t mean admitting it’s right.
ETA: I would have loved to say Pres. Barbara Jordan, myself.
Perhaps I should have adopted the strategy of picking the second-oldest baseball Hall of Famer, instead of the oldest?
In 1960, my dad, from Pittsburgh, was a Pirates fan, while my mom, who grew up largely in the northeast, was a Yankees fan. If Dad had needled Mom much more about Maz’s homer in that year’s Series, I might not have been born.