Dan and Malcolm

All day it has rained, and I’ve been texting, emailing, and BlueSky-sing with friends, co-workers, and comrades of Dan Handelman. The local newspaper headline reads, “Portland’s Toughest Police Critic, Dan Handelman, Dies at 60,” which seems almost gloating, and it consults Police Chief Bob Day for his opinion of Dan. (Rather like asking the head of the Gestapo for an opinion of Sophie Scholl; the Chief allows that Dan was “deeply knowledgeable” about the police and was a “tireless advocate” for the community, which nobody can deny.) 

Twelve years ago, Dan wrote a brief and brilliant essay called, “Why I Won’t Shake Hands with You, Commander Day,” (same guy). The irony. 

Losing both Malcolm and Dan, 24 days apart, leaves me thinking about what these two comrades had in common, the model they provided for us. 

Each found what he could do and did it consistently, doggedly, even tediously, to the end of his days. Each one took personal responsibility for bending the arc of the moral universe toward justice: without funding, without permission or approval, without promise of success or recognition. Neither wanted to be thanked. Dan spelled his own name without capital letters: dan handelman. I’m attaching another image of Dan (dan) at Maranatha Baptist Church, at a memorial for Keaton Otis in 2019. I think he would like that one because he’s not centered in it. Malcolm allowed photos under one condition: “Don’t make it about me but about those most impacted.” Dan kept statistics. Malcolm made meditation bells and fed houseless people.

Both stood up in public, alone or not, regularly and for years on end: Dan for racial justice and an end of racist policing; Malcolm for Peace and freedom, for an end of military terror and domination. They both worked with, and were known to, the activist community, but both stood, alone if no one else showed up, in a public place, in every weather. They went on with their work whether a community group endorsed it or not. Each of these good men was the change he wanted to see in the world.