Rachel Maddow … I knew her when

OK, back to volunteer tales. Which is to say, back to Rachel Maddow (as promised a few days ago) and other adventures. 

After New Hampshire, we moved to Northampton, MA, home to Smith College. Smith is one of five colleges within a 10-mile radius, so there is always something going on. Northampton is also a hub for live music, especially of the folkie sort. This plays into the Rachel Maddow story.

When we landed in Northampton, I began my process of scanning the world for volunteer gigs that sounded fun. I found lots of them, and I was going to tell you about them all. But when I got to Rachel, I realized that this is a story that takes a full entry by itself. So, I dedicate this post to Rachel. The other ones will wait.

It all began with a clock radio. We used to waken to a local radio station, WRSI, "93.9, The River." They played great music, a fun mix of genres, including lots of world music and folk music. They also had fun and often challenging contests where they gave away prizes—frequently, these were tickets to local live music. So the mix of music was perfect to waken to, and we also enjoyed the morning DJ. After a while, we started really listening to her, and we liked her more and more. She was very smart, very funny, and, we soon realized, very “out” as a lesbian. We loved her about as much as the music. She called her show “The Big Breakfast.” Her name was Rachel Maddow.

One day, Rachel said, “I need a news intern. If you’re interested, email me.” My partner said, “You should do it!” (She has since admitted that she was thinking “Comp tickets! Comp tickets!”). I figured Rachel was looking for a college student (see “five colleges,” above), but I was persuaded to email her. She invited me in for an interview. It was Halloween day, so I went in a mask. She laughed. I met her at the radio station, a cramped studio in the basement beneath the bagel shop. She said she’d received about 50 applications. That scared me, because by now, I really wanted to do this. We chatted a bit, and she picked me!

And so began my year with Rachel. It was a remarkable experience working with her. She is so smart and knows so much. And she worked so hard, whether she was preparing to do the hourly news, about 2-3 minutes long, an occasional “long” segment of about 3-4 minutes on a specific topic, or an interview. So, say she wanted to cover a hot headline—remember, this would be one item in a newsbreak that lasted 2-3 minutes total, including local, national, international news plus weather. She would have me find three good articles—one from the local press, one from the national press, and one from the international press. She would read those while the music was spinning, digest them in that high-speed mind, and write a script that condensed it all into a rich summary of the news and its implications. I was amazed watching her.

Besides playing music and planning news, we also did some great organizing. The state’s Supreme Judicial Court was due to rule on whether same-sex marriage would be legal in Massachusetts, but we didn’t know when the ruling would be announced. We did know that it would probably come down early some morning—during her show, we hoped. 

So we cooked up this plan where we would have everything in place for a rally on the steps of city hall. Rachel would announce the ruling as soon as it came down, and the rally would happen that same night. I set about posting flyers all around town (and nearby towns) about this event—sort of a “Don’t mark your calendars, but plan to come” heads up. Rachel announced this plan on her program daily. When the ruling came down in support of same-sex marriage—early one morning, during her show—we put everything in motion. That evening, we had hundreds of folks celebrating in the street in front of city hall, complete with banners, police traffic control, the mayor, and television coverage.

We did wild and silly things on her show, too. She once had a contest where folks had to find Dick Cheney, who was (of course) hiding in a secure, undisclosed location. I was moving around town with a sign around my neck that said, simply, “Dick.” I’d call in occasionally with clues, and folks who found me won a prize … probably tickets to live music. (By the way, we did get those comp tickets my partner was hoping for, and saw some great live music). On another occasion, Rachel was doing some sort of promotion in front of the apartment building where Dar Williams used to live. This was probably 7:00 a.m., in the winter, in Massachusetts. It was cold! Being an old jock, I figured everyone needed help staying warm, so I led them in aerobic exercises. Seemed like the thing to do.

Sometimes, we also hung out together “after hours” (i.e., after 10:00 a.m.). We met weekly to plan contests (some time, I’ll tell the story of a contest where the prize was shoes), plan interviews, and discuss other program stuff … and just stuff.

And occasionally, we just hung out. I remember sliding through the Massachusetts snow in her pickup, headed for breakfast at Cracker Barrel (my choice, definitely not hers) one morning. And then there was the time when a bunch of friends, including Rachel, spent a fun and sometimes silly evening trying to get a good view of Mars through my telescope.


Then, one day she asked me to help her make contacts with national media organizations. She was ready to move on. I did that, even though I felt pretty sure that once they met her, heard her on radio, she’d be gone. And sure enough … New York City, here she comes! And the rest, as they say, is history.

I’ve watched her meteoric rise (speaking of watching the stars) with a sense of awe—both because she is truly a remarkable woman and because I knew her when she was the morning DJ in the basement studio of a local radio station. Now we have the Rachel Maddow show on msnbc, an msnbc-hosted Rachel Maddow blog, a Rachel Maddow fan site, and, maybe the most telling achievement, a dedicated Rachel Maddow page at Huffington Post. What I have trouble wrapping my head around, given what I know about how hard she works at what she does, given what her schedule must look like, she also has an upcoming book.

Gradually, we lost touch … although I do have an email subject line that I still believe would get a response from her personal email. I used it only once (and it worked). I like to think it would work again … so I never try.

And I still have a big ol’ coffee mug with the “Big Breakfast” logo on it. 

Volunteer travel log: New Hampshire

Today, I spent a couple of hours on one of my current volunteer gigs, working through a local aging services program as sort of a “buddy” to a senior. I delight in this relationship, and being there got me thinking: It would be fun to talk a bit about the assortment of volunteer jobs I’ve had during my retirement. It’s a great example of sampling “the mix.” So here goes ...

For several years after I retired, we moved around the country. This was a grand adventure, but it was tough to find my footing in new places (5 of them over the course of 6 years). I wanted to get involved in volunteer work, but I didn’t know the communities well enough to know where to start. So I adopted a pattern of waiting for something to show up—a process I use to this day. I listen to conversations, pay attention to chatter on the radio, read the local paper to see what was going on, talk with folks I meet, generally stay open. My job in this is not to search frantically but to pay attention, to be alert. Before long, something always bubbles up, something that says “This! This would be cool!” One of the best things about retirement is the availability of time. I have the time to wait, watch, listen … and when a fit comes along, I have time that I can commit to it. What a gift!

So, let me tell you about some of the volunteer gigs I’ve found this way and a bit about what I learned from them. First, a teaser. Among my volunteer gigs have been the following:

• Sorting stuff and grinding glass in a rural recycling plant
• Assisting the chef and generally helping in a community kitchen
• Traveling from New Hampshire to Oregon to work against a ballot issue
• Doing grassroots organizing with the American Friends Service Committee

• Volunteering as a news intern for Rachel Maddow (Really!), who was at that time the morning DJ in the basement studio of a local radio station 
• Blogging for a major western Mass. newspaper (blogging some mighty interesting events!)
• Delivering Meals on Wheels
• Acting as the (supposedly) responsible adult in an LGBTQ youth drop-in center
• Working on a presidential campaign  (once finding myself alone to run the campaign office because of football!)
• Teaching literacy in a program for folks in legal trouble trying to re-enter society
• Supervising a phone bank for an LGBTQ political action group
• Staffing health education booths for the Department of Public Health—street fairs in San Francisco!
• Becoming friends with a senior through a respite and companion volunteer program
• Helping a 13-year-old with special needs to manage the complexity of middle school
• Serving on a coalition that works to make schools safe and welcoming for LGBTQ folks and their families.

All of these gigs came from listening, watching, waiting. Ah, the luxury of time! All of them have tales attached—funny, poignant, thought-provoking, joyful, a mix. So, now that I have your attention with the Rachel Maddow story, let me start at the beginning of our wandering years. Small town New Hampshire …

I heard through a friend about the local community kitchen, where they needed someone to help make dinners. Back-stage kitchen work. This may seem odd after my rant about invisibility, but this sounded perfect! I really enjoyed the chef who ran the place, which made it extra fun. Here, I learned how to cut vegetables correctly with a butcher knife, and I learned for the first time what “shepherd’s pie” is. I also found out about eggplant. I came to realize how many grocery stores overstock and how many farms overplant eggplant. This, I am convinced, is the only vegetable that can rival zucchini as the bunny rabbit of plants. However, as far as I know, zucchini just shows up everywhere in the fall. Eggplant is around all year. I'm still not much of a fan of eggplant.

Then, one day, I was dropping off stuff at the local rural recycling center and the guy running it said, “why don’t you volunteer some time, join your neighbors?” I heard this whisper: "Cool! This will be fun!” I started the next week. It seemed perfect: with the community kitchen, this made both ends of the food chain. Here, I learned three valuable lessons: 

1. Never leave a dollop of milk in the bottom of your milk jug and then deliver it to the recycling center days later. The stench is deadly to volunteers. 
2. The machine that grinds class is a total kick to operate! This may be partly because you have to earn your stripes as a basic recycler before being invited to do it, so it has a gold star on the forehead quality to it. Lesson 2b: Always wear ear protectors, goggles, and heavy-duty gloves whenever the rules say you should. I had some close calls with fingers and eyes; the ear protection saved my sanity. 
3. This lesson applies if you live near the border with another state and your state doesn’t pay a deposit on cans. Here’s how you make money to run the recycling program: pack up a load of those return-deposit cans, truck them across the river, and cash them in. Do not tell anyone I told you this. 

The other great thing about this job, not a lesson really, was that I got to wear those cool brown, flannel-lined, full-coverage overalls like construction workers (and serious recyclers!) wear. After all, it’s cold in NH in the winter, so I felt compelled to get myself some. I was grinding glass and all. I felt like I had arrived. 

My last volunteer job in New Hampshire was in Oregon. I flew from NH to Oregon to work against an anit-LGBTQ initiative there. I got to spend 2 weeks with some amazing organizers, talking with voters on the street and on the phone. I learned a huge lesson here. I had trouble approaching people and asking them to sign up to volunteer for phone banking—hours of cold calls about a controversial issue. Then, the leader of our organizing group pointed out something really profound. You came all  the way from New Hampshire to do this work, he said. Why? Because it’s important, I answered. I wanted to have a chance to help make a difference. Exactly, he smiled. You're giving other folks that same opportunity—to make a difference. He had me. We all worked hard for those 2 weeks, and by golly, we won!

Lots of fun, lots of good folks, lots of lessons learned. Some were really important life lessons (give other people a chance to do good in the world). Some were metaphors for important life lessons (don't leave sour milk for the other person to clean up; when life gets dangerous, wear protective gear). Some were just for laughs (grinding glass in overalls is a kick!).

New Hampshire was just the start. Next stop, Massachusetts—which  by the way, is where I worked with Rachel.

Did I mention Rachel Maddow?