Howard Dean and the Art of Death

by Mona Shaw

It has always astonished me how much rancor you can bring down on your head simply because you don’t want people to suffer and die.

In 2009, I attended a lecture given by Howard Dean at the Unitarian Church in Des Moines, Iowa. He was promoting Obamacare, specifically its “robust” public option.

I was wearing an “HR676, Single Payer Now!” t-shirt.  HR676 was a bill in Congress that had been introduced by the late US Congressman John Conyers. I also handed out pamphlets on the bill and its benefits.  This led to me receiving no small share of dirty looks. However, it awarded me plenty of empty seats around me at the talk.

The effusive valentines to Governor Dean in his introduction led me to think that the presenters may be biased. The governor told us Obama’s bill was nothing less than the second coming. Even I was a little impressed. Still, I had questions.

For the Q and A, questions had to be submitted in writing and given to a staff person. I watched the staff person lay aside the questions I had submitted.  Still a few questions leaked through from others that led Governor Dean to respond more than once.

“The ACA can’t be everything to all people.”

The sad-faced nods of acceptance from the progressive Democratic audience horrified me.

The time for questions ended. I saw my shot. I stood and loudly asked this.

“Governor, how many people is the ACA willing to let die?”

All Hell broke loose.  I continued.

“I don’t want to be rude, but this is an important question. How many?”

“You are rude, ma’am,” said Dean, “I don’t respond to rude people.

While people grabbed my arm and escorted me out, I kept talking.

“There will be no public option at all. The health insurance industry will see to that!  And the premiums of the Market Place options will be far from affordable…”

I was called “Liar!” and booed. I quickly found myself on the side walk by the church.  A man yelled from the door, “And don’t come back here, EVER!”

I received many contemptuous emails that all began with, “I’m a progressive Democrat, but…”

My behavior was described as “unacceptable, shameful, and outrageous.” I was schooled on incremental change, the definition of “reality,” and the “art of the possible.” I was advised on what I would do if I “really cared.” Several said they wanted nothing to do with me ever again.

I don’t want to say the audience cared more about social propriety than the lives I was defending, but the thought did occur to me.

I’m still waiting for an answer to my question.

How many are we willing to let die?