Before Buddy the Elf found his true identity and discovered the joys of eating spaghetti with maple syrup, or before Ralphie convinced his father what a perfect Christmas gift a Red Ryder carbine-action two-hundred shot range model air rifle would be, It’s A Wonderful Life, directed by Frank Capra and starring James Stewart and Donna Reed, was an enduring essential for getting into the spirit of the holidays.
While my family enjoys watching Elf and Christmas Story every year around Christmas time, It’s A Wonderful Life is a movie that speaks to us all year long. The story is about a guardian angel named Clarence, hardly one of the heavyweights like Gabriel, Raphael or Michael, but one of those apprentice angels trying to earn his wings. In order to be a full-fledged angel, Clarence is charged with the task of convincing a kindhearted yet suicidal small-town businessman what life might have been like if he hadn’t existed at all. The lesson is revealed as Clarence directs his charge, George Bailey, to be a spectator of the lives of others who would never had known him. Within one Christmas Eve night, Clarence proves that without George, the lives of so many would have been a disaster. The message realized by George is unambiguous, poignant and vital: You matter.
The movie’s lesson is not just one for holiday consideration, but one that can be witnessed in so many lives in a number of circumstances. In my own life, I’ve witnessed it directly and in few degrees of separation. In those experiences, it became obvious to recognize the impact a single person’s contribution could make to the big story. Individual actions, often appearing insignificant, do matter.
That point was driven home for me in the summer of 1973, when I witnessed three sessions of one of the most infamous episodes of modern times: the Watergate hearings. I was living in nearby Arlington, Virginia at the time, and I couldn’t imagine being close enough to something so significant in American political culture to see it live. These hearings, along with impeachment proceedings being conducted in Congress, ultimately would lead to the resignation of a sitting president, Richard M. Nixon.
It’s a pretty good bet that, on the night of June 17, 1972, President Richard Nixon did not know Frank Wills. At the time, Wills was a 24-year-old, $80-a-week security guard who was faithfully doing his job at the massive Watergate complex situated along the Potomac River in Washington, DC. It’s also a pretty good bet that Frank Wills started the night with no clue that he was about to change Nixon’s life, as well as the course of American history.
While Wills was conducting his rounds, a fairly boring routine, he discovered a break-in of the offices of the Democratic National Committee. He alerted the local police, who, upon their arrival, discovered five men associated with the Republican National Committee and the Committee to Re-Elect the President (Nixon). They were arrested, and the rest is history.
Although it is true that many individuals had a part in the ultimate outcome of the Watergate affair, it’s not difficult to see the impact of one solitary individual on the whole story. Frank Wills had no intention of starting a series of events that ended as it did. He was merely doing his job. He showed up and fulfilled his duty. His faithful actions made a huge difference, even if he never thought he would ever make a difference. He discovered that he mattered.
One other person who discovered he mattered in the lives of others was someone who has a more local relationship. In 1997, Steven Spielberg directed a historical drama film that tells the true story of a group of slaves who overwhelmed their Spanish captors on the ship La Amistad and tried in vain to return to Africa. Instead, they were taken to north and were captured off the Long Island Sound. Ultimately, the ship and its human cargo were taken to New London, Connecticut. After a brief time in New London, the slaves were taken to New Haven where they were to stand trial for murder.
Fortunately, local area abolitionists took up the slaves’ case and hired Roger Sherman Baldwin, a young and inexperienced real estate lawyer to represent them. Baldwin would later be elected governor of Connecticut. Their case was taken to every level of the American judiciary and finally to the U.S. Supreme Court, where they were represented by former United States president John Quincy Adams. The decision of the court was to grant the slaves their freedom.
Until the infamous Dred Scott decision of 1857, the Amistad case was considered the most significant case regarding the issue of slavery in United States jurisprudence and provided a means for many enslaved people to seize their freedom. But without the efforts of one local man, Dwight Plimpton Janes, the fate of the slaves would have been a no-brainer, and Steven Spielberg would have had to find another subject for a film. According to New London Maritime Society records, “Janes had already been an active figure among New London’s abolitionists when the Amistad arrived in port. Born on July 31, 1801, he grew up in the fiercely anti-slavery community of St. Albans, Vermont. After marrying Jane Winthrop Allyn, daughter of a prominent New London family, Janes lived in Montreal and attended the American Presbyterian Church, led at that time by abolitionist minister Joseph Christmas. Janes carried his views to New London when he moved there in the 1830s and began working for the grocery and mercantile firm Hurlbut, Butler & Co. He joined the American Anti-Slavery Society, distributed abolitionist materials, and tried to start an anti-slavery prayer group at the Second Congregational Church.”
Janes managed to get aboard the revenue cutter Washington for the initial legal hearing, and noticed that the captives were speaking in their native language. Jose Ruiz, one of the Amistad’s owners, told Janes that none of them spoke Spanish or English because they were “just from Africa.” It was enough to convince Janes that the captives were freeborn Africans, not Cuban slaves as the Spaniards claimed. He sought to bring the matter to the attention of several prominent abolitionists, writing to Roger S. Baldwin, a New Haven lawyer; Joshua Leavitt, editor of The Emancipator; and Lewis Tappan, a silk merchant.
The actions of Janes were significant to the case, enough so that without his testimony, the Africans would have been doomed to continued slavery, prison, or worse.
Unlike Frank Wills, Dwight Janes acted with intention. Either way, with or without intention, their lives mattered to many people and redirected the course of American history of social justice. While it’s possible to go on sharing how significant one life can matters in the affairs of others, I’d like to encourage the Connecticut College community to look at what can be done right here on campus, in New London and its surrounding communities. You will never know how significant your contribution may be. With or without intention, just being there in the lives of others raises the odds that you will bless those around you. I triple-dog-dare you. •
