A Minor Miracle

A minor miracle: I arrived safely while holding the speed limit as the motorcycle, the Tesla, and the SUV drove over and above. Or – as I heard on the New Yorker radio hour en route -  it is the miracle of two - young then but older now - Black men wrongfully accused of a murder in the 80s. One was only 16 and the other in his early 20s. So much promise and then the corrupt and unfair justice system failed them. Finally years later they had served their horrendous sentences and were home free… or so it seemed. But not quite, as they were still being called “guilty. “

The case was reopened and Alvin Bragg,  now New York DA and Trump’s nemesis, exonerated both of these Black men who had been wrongfully accused. Having been framed by the police just looking for a win. Sad that the state’s “star” witness whose false testimony – given with the promise of a pardon for his own crime – had recently died. So, a minor miracle that even without his words, the two men had their integrity restored and perhaps they could finally carve a life from the debris and detritus of years in the New York State prison system, in two different prisons where they could only exchange monthly letters to keep the connection which represented their loyalty to each other, as it would take years before the truth would truly set them free.

Here's the thing…their minor miracle was a weightier one than mine of just over a week ago. I hesitate to represent it as a miracle, certainly much more minor than the cross your fingers and bite your nails miracle that Trump doesn’t win the election. I hope there is a  landslide which finally puts Trump to rest and maybe even in jail, but some would say it will be a minor miracle if Biden wins. But really, too soon for predictions even if the polls and predictors are out in force.

Here's the thing…I submitted a creative non-fiction piece to a range of literary magazines. It was accepted and immediately thereafter it looked like the publication never existed or the website was fake or the prosecuting attorney bribed a witness to say that such publication never existed. I was traveling at the time of said acceptance, focused instead on a college graduation. Returning home to face my inbox, I did my own sleuthing and it seemed in fact that my piece had gone into the ether where scammers and Martians lurk behind web pages, unseen and anonymous, creating havoc and disappointment for a writer who must contend with competition from AI and Tic Toc and any number of entities who imagine they are writers after a few short days or hours or even minutes.

But here comes the minor miracle part…just 48 hours later I learned that though the site for Adelaide Magazine had been hacked, the publisher was in the process of repairing and rejuvenating the site so my piece had actually been published in the magazine  which has been in existence for many years, in print and on-line.

Here’s the thing…arriving safely to one’s destination, restoring justice and carving a space for creative excellence are minor miracles. Not one, but three. Writing outside on a sunny day is another minor miracle In the midst of worry about elections and wars and famine and the noise of 4th of July fireworks awaiting us in the Mission. But Asher and Robert and I will be far away in Occidental where it will be a minor miracle if it is indeed quiet.