The Last Great Season of America's Pastime

By Troy M. Olson

Today it is quite clear that other sports, namely football for sure, have surpassed baseball for the number one spot in the hearts and minds of everyday Americans. 

1991 was the last great season of America's pastime. 

Now, before I get trashed on this, hear me out. At the beginning of the last decade of the 20th century, you could still make a case for baseball as America's most popular sport, even though, throughout the 1970s and 80s, it had lost considerable ground to football. Today, you can make no such case. Baseball is no longer America's pastime, as football occupies that place today, except of course in my heart and the hearts and minds of many old souls throughout this country and beyond. 

Central to this 1991 thesis is what happens after. The 1994 strike puts baseball on a trajectory it never quite recovers from, and the two seasons in between were championships won by a Canadian team, the Toronto Blue Jays. No offense to our neighbors from the north of course, but nothing quite matches the storylines, the Americana of the times, and the fundamental greatness that was the 1991 season, capped off by one of the greatest if not the greatest World Series ever played, featuring two worst-to-first teams in the Minnesota Twins vs. the Atlanta Braves. But let's start with the season itself.

1991 featured what was easily Cal Ripken Jr.'s best season. Baseball's future Iron Man was in the middle of his consecutive-games-played streak that would one day see him pass Yankee legend Lou Gehrig, and on the field he was basically perfect. A gold glove (awarded to the best defender at each position), a silver slugger (awarded to the slugger at each position), an All Star, a second Most Valuable Player award, and a batting line of .323/.374/.566 (BA/OBP/SLG) with 34 home runs, and 114 runs batted in. This season would be impressive at any place on the diamond, but to do it at shortstop, catcher, or even center field is rarified greatness. 

In addition to Ripken Jr.'s best season of a Hall of Fame career, another Hall of Famer, Ricky Henderson, while playing for the Oakland Athletics, broke Lou Brock's career stolen base record in the month of May. Nolan Ryan, now in his 40s, would also record his seventh career no-hitter in May. For the year, there were seven no-hitters overall. Ryan's seventh no-hitter came while playing for the Texas Rangers, who in 1991 were partially owned by George W. Bush. 

In sports media, if you had cable, you could catch Major League Baseball four nights a week, otherwise CBS would cover it on Saturday afternoons. In April, the MLB required all teams wear American and Canadian flag decals in honor of those who served in Operation Desert Storm. Operation Desert Storm is to this day the last ticker tape parade honoring the military down Broadway in New York City. 

Only four teams made the playoffs (compared to the twelve today), making the regular season pennant and flag chases more impactful. Of baseball's four pennant or division flag chases, the National League West went down to the wire between the Atlanta Braves and Los Angeles Dodgers. Of note in the American League West, every single team posted a .500 record or above, with just 14 games separating first to worst. 

Of the top ten highest payrolls in baseball, only one team reached 90 wins, and none of them made the playoffs. In fact, the World Series would feature two middle-market salaried teams who had just come off last place seasons from 1990 and who were not predicted to finish any higher than 5th in their respective divisions. 

And now onto that World Series. Arguably the greatest ever. The National League champion Braves, who needed nearly all of the schedule's 162 games to prevail over the Dodgers, needed all seven games of the National League Championship Series to dispatch the Pittsburgh Pirates, who had the best record in all of baseball over the regular season and featured stars like Barry Bonds in his athletic prime, Bobby Bonilla, Andy Van Slyke, Doug Drabek, and John Smiley. 

The second best record in baseball, the Minnesota Twins, outlasted the Chicago White Sox, a hot start from the partially-owned by George W. Bush Texas Rangers, and the three-time defending American League Champion Oakland A's to capture the very competitive AL West flag by eight games and then dispatched the AL East champion Toronto Blue Jays in five games in the best-of-seven American League Championship Series. 

This set up a worst-to-first World Series clash between the Twins and the Braves. Two very evenly matched teams whose history and future diverged greatly before and after but met perfectly in a World Series that went to all seven games, featured five games won by just one run, four games won in the last at bat (Games 3, 4, 6, and 7), and three games that were won in extra innings (Games 3, 6, and 7).

But it was the lore and baseball magic that elevated the Series and the '91 season beyond the stat sheet. After a Game One win at home, the Twins extended their 6-1 home World Series record dating back to 1987 to 7-1. An early two-run homer by Designated Hitter Chili Davis, a free agent signing that some in the league had written off as "past his prime" added to his 29 regular season Home Runs with a blast that put the Twins ahead. But it was this leg tag on Ron Gant from hometown Minnesota first baseman Kent Hrbek that grabbed the headlines in Game Two, and elicited boos from the Atlanta faithful when he was introduced in Game Three, to the happy warrior hat tip quote of: "I love it." 

Game Two ended with another save from the Twins stalwart closer Rick Aguilera, picked up in the Frank Viola trade between the Twins and the Mets that along the 1987 core, helped power the Twins to a fast rebound and second World Series appearance in five years. Yet, with the game in doubt and tied 2-2 in the bottom of the eighth, it was a platoon third baseman Scott Leius from Mamaroneck, NY in Westchester County who hit a home run that would be the deciding run. Leius had just five home runs all season. 

Over the next three games in Atlanta, with their backs against the wall just like it had been vs. the Dodgers during the regular season and down 3 games to 2 against the 98-win Pirates, the Braves came roaring back led by unsung heroes like Leius. There was ninth place light hitting second baseman Mark Lemke who hit three triples, a pinch hitter with fifteen at bats all year, and veteran Lonnie Smith, who hit a home run in games 3, 4, and 5. Smith had just seven home runs all season. 

Games Three and Four went down to the wire, their outcome in doubt until the absolute end. Game three stretched on for 12 innings and exhausted both bullpens. Arguably, this was crucial for the Braves as the Twins bullpen had been on an incredible streak of pitching all throughout the playoffs. To not only win game three but to win it while exhausting this strength helped even the score, and in Game Five, the Braves looked primed for their first World Series title in Atlanta, winning 14-5 and crushing the once unbeatable Twins bullpen. 

Coming back to the Metrodome in the Twin Cities down three games to two, the Twins future Hall of Fame CF Kirby Puckett was a calm and cool customer: "get on my back boys I'm going to carry us today."

In Game Six, Puckett did just that. For the game he batted 3 for 4, with a single, triple, home run, and three of the home team's four runs batted in. Highlighted in the lithograph above, is his super human catch in the third inning trailing backward into the left center field plexiglass wall where his stocky 5 foot 8 inch frame jumped above what seemed possible. In the biggest games, legends meet the moment. This would have been enough to solidify his Hall of Fame credentials, but Kirby was not done. Puckett, who grew up with many siblings in Chicago housing projects and lost his father before he ever stepped foot on a Major or Minor League baseball field, led off the bottom of the eleventh inning, yet another extra inning game. With the count at 2 balls and 1 strike, he sent an already all-time World Series to its seventh and decisive game. 

In Game Seven, the veteran ace of the Minnesota Twins Jack Morris, another hometown player signed as a free agent in the offseason, also met the moment. Morris was on one end of his career and the boy that grew up a Detroit Tiger fan who idolized him, John Smoltz, was another. Before the seventh game Twins manager remarked that: "It's a storybook World Series, what's going to happen in Game 7, Chapter 7? Oh my, God, I can't wait. Can you believe this? Going on like this? Unbelievable."

Both Jack Morris and John Smoltz would take their own interesting and winding paths to Cooperstown, baseball's Hall of Fame. On this day, both veteran and youngster were perfect. Not perfect in a literal sense, but in a story sense. Each team got their hits here and there, had base runners on. But neither Morris nor Smoltz would let in a run. For seven innings it went on like this. A 0-0 tie in Game 7 of the World Series, the last game of the year. 

In the eighth inning, fans from both teams would age and smoke in an era where smoke still filled bowling alleys and bars. For the top of the 8th, the Braves had a man on first and hit a double to the gap. 99 times out of 100 this would be a run scoring play. But not this day. 

Greg Gagne, one of the best defensive shortstops in the American League, and Chuck Knoblauch, Rookie of the Year in 1991, pantomimed a fake out double play, which makes utterly no sense if the ball is hit with authority toward the left-center field gap, but the confusion and the roar of the crowd caused Lonnie Smith to hold up for just a moment, just long enough for the relay throw to get in and keep him from scoring. 

Baseball is a game most like chess, not checkers after all. The love and appreciation of it escapes the instant gratification of much of modern culture.  

No big deal. With runners on second and third and nobody out, surely the Braves will still get a run across. It was their most serious threat of the day. After one out though, and a mound visit later from Twins manager Tom Kelly where legend has it Jack Morris said, or was thinking: "I'm going to kill you if you take me out!" 

In 2026, every manager would take out the starter in this situation and bring in the bullpen to finish up the game. But Kelly just came up and said to Morris that they should walk this guy to load the bases and set up the double play at every base. Baseball is a game most like chess, not checkers after all. The love and appreciation of it escapes the instant gratification of much of modern culture.  

Morris intentionally walked to load the bases, and then a ground ball double play followed. 

In the bottom of the eighth the script got reversed. It was the Twins with the threat, and as the home team, the World Series looked almost over. Like so many times throughout the previous 24 hours or so, the World Series was once again on the line... and once again, a line out unassisted double play ended the threat. Both Cinderella teams escaped the eighth inning unscathed, and lived to fight another inning. Unlike the Twins with Morris, the Braves took out the young Smoltz and turned to their bullpen. 

Morris stayed in for the ninth inning. And then he stayed in for the tenth. If history called for it, he would have went back out for the eleventh. 

Finally, in the bottom of the tenth the Twins leadoff man, and for years after their radio announcer, Dan Gladden, led off the inning with a broken bat shallow outfield hit that for most people would be a lead off single. But Dan Gladden hadn't stayed in the majors because of his power or any of the obvious star qualities. Tom Kelly would write his name into left field because he hustled and played the game hard. At the crack of the broken bat, Gladden hustled out of the box, after a lingering bounce on the Metrodome turf, Gladden rounded first and headed hard into second, sliding just under the tag. The relay throw to second was just a split second too late. The Twins had another threat going and only needed one run. 

Like for both teams in the eighth inning, where one run wins it, the Braves decided to walk two of the Twins best players after a strategically solid bunt from Knoblauch traded and the first out for a base. Gladden was now at third and all Puckett needed to do was hit hard somewhere or hit it far, even if up high. Puckett was intentionally walked, and so was Kent Hrbek. Tom Kelly went to his bench for the pinch hitting Gene Larkin, a Columbia alumni who when he did play played would often play first base like then President George H.W. Bush did when he was at Yale playing in the College World Series in the years after the War. The Ivy Leagues rarely produce professional baseball players, certainly not at the rate they produce presidents. 

All Larkin had to do was hit the ball high and far somewhere and the Twins would win the World Series. The announcers knew this. The Braves pulled in their infield, and outfield, hoping for another eighth inning type end to the threat. On the first pitch Larkin hit what in any other circumstance would have been a long fly ball out. It was solid contact to be sure, yet it was a hit that belongs to the many camped under fly balls that you'll see throughout a long season.

But the Boys of Summer in America's last great season of baseball had come to the final play. And what was usually routine, instead ended the only Game Seven in World Series history that ended 1-0 where the winning pitcher went the distance, and the game ended with a walk off at home. 

The Twins had won the World Series for the second time in five years.

When I was a boy, I had such a narrow perspective of the world and my surroundings that I thought this moment was routine, as routine as that last game winning hit would have been. Since it had happened two times already in my young life, I thought it was a regular thing that my favorite team would win the World Series, and took for granted and assumed, the American love affair with baseball. Yet it has now been thirty-five years since the Twins last won the World Series, and with each passing year its getting harder and harder to make the case that America's pastime is still even that pastime, let along one of the most popular sports. 

Hit by the 1994 strike, the steroids scandal, a flirtation with possible contraction of teams, including my beloved Twins, and the advent of the Internet and de facto end to the mono-culture, to be replaced by silos upon silos of micro-cultures going from fix to fix, headline to headline, doom scroll to doom scroll. 

The ratings for Game 7 in 1991 were 50 million viewers. By 1997 it was already down to 37 million. 

Today it is quite clear that other sports, namely football for sure, have surpassed baseball for the number one spot in the hearts and minds of everyday Americans. 

But in 1991 it didn't matter, and you couldn't see it. Unless you're Pat Buchanan, you couldn't see a lot of things. 

Excerpt from President George H.W. Bush's White House speech welcoming the World Series Champion Minnesota Twins...

Let me welcome the authors of "That Championship Season," the 1991 Minnesota Twins, a team that helped deepen America's love affair with baseball. It is absolutely wonderful what this ball club did for sports and for the spirit in our country. You showed why baseball is the most democratic of sports. It's also the most Republican of sports. [Laughter] But whether in the major leagues or Little League, what counts is the size of your heart and your dreams.

And in 1990, I don't want to remind them of this, they didn't have their best year. They came in last in the West, American League West. And this year, they rose like Lazarus to win their division, beat Toronto in the playoffs, and then came the 88th World Series. And what a series it was: Five games decided by a single run; three went extra innings; five games won in the last inning, and four in the last at-bat. It was a series of indescribable tension, a Fall Classic for all time.

...

"It's unfortunate that anyone had to lose this series because this was a true classic in every sense of the word." So each of you made this a kaleidoscope of beauty. Each showed why millions of Americans watch baseball, listen to, read about, debate it, and why for a few golden days each October, each of us becomes a self-anointed expert.

And that wonderful friend, Fay's friend and I'm proud to say mine, the late Bart Giamatti, once wrote that baseball is designed to break your heart. True. But it also lifts as perhaps no sport can. So I really, thank you guys for the memories, for coming to the White House on this spectacular day, for giving our country a wonderful lift.                                      

President George H.W. Bush, the last GI / Greatest Generation President, coming off of a victorious triumph of the end of the Cold War and largest coalition victory in history in the Persian Gulf War, was ushered out of office by 1992, with similar consideration and speed as we have toward many things today. 1992 was the beginning of the Baby Boomer arc of leadership that is reaching a similar end point today, yet it is hard to see how a year like 1991 shows up today or tomorrow, whether on the ball field or elsewhere. 

I'll end what is an admittedly longer article for The Frank Forum with a quote from George Will's book Men at Work: the Craft of Baseball:

"Baseball, more than any other sport, is enjoyed by the knowledgeable. The pleasures it gives to fans are proportional to the fans' sense of history."

I can think of a few things this applies to beyond baseball right now.

Troy M. Olson is an Army Veteran, lawyer by training, and co-author of 'The Emerging Populist Majority' available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Target. He is the Sergeant-at-Arms of the New York Young Republican Club and co-founder of its Veterans Caucus. He has appeared on CNN, CBS, and OAN. He lives in New York City with his wife and two children, and is the 3rd Vice Commander ("Americanism" pillar) of the first new American Legion Post in the city in years, Post 917. You can follow him on X/Twitter and Substack at @TroyMOlson

How I Built a Third Place Platform Using Lessons From Gardening

 

By Arec Ligon

Third places are ecosystems like my wildflower garden. They are notoriously difficult to engineer from the top down. They are best cultivated cooperatively on good land to suit the resources and needs of the locale.

My wildflower garden is my pride and joy. It’s not always beautiful, especially in the winter and early spring. But even when it’s cold and the flowers have fallen, it's the most alive part of my yard. I leave the dried stalks so that beneficial insects hibernate and lay eggs in them. In the spring, the pollinators come for the blooms. As it gains some height, dragonflies show up to hunt mosquitoes from their perches.

The mix of flowers changes a lot year to year and season to season. I’m not forcing it to look a particular way; the garden grows from what the garden provides. I just made space for the ecosystem to develop.

I am building something that runs on the same principles, except instead of pollinators and dragonflies, it's communities. My startup, Linger, is a platform for finding and supporting third places (if you’re new to the term, read up here). Sharing Linger and my story with others has sparked lively conversations about how important places are and how people are working to strengthen communities. Through those conversations, I've anchored on the idea that third places are ecosystems like my wildflower garden. They are notoriously difficult to engineer from the top down. They are best cultivated cooperatively on good land to suit the resources and needs of the locale.

I Miss My Third Place.

Before we had children, my wife and I lived close to Main Street in Fortville, Indiana. Every Thursday, we would go over to the bar for trivia night. We gradually became regulars, and I’d say that's the only time in my life I've had a real third place. We didn't know how lucky we were to have that feeling in a town of just 4,000 people.

Now I live in Brownsburg (pop. 34,000), and I've spent a genuinely embarrassing amount of time searching for live music nearby. What’s worse, the closest place worth hanging out in at all is a mile away and across a US Highway. Not far, but enough of a trip that "let's just walk over" turns into “let's make plans,” and making plans is where spontaneous third place culture goes to die.

What I’m feeling in Brownsburg is shared across thousands of single-family, residential-zoned neighborhoods. Good third places exist, but there are huge coverage gaps, and most of us have no reliable way to find the ones that fit us. Americans are moving more often. The loneliness epidemic succinctly describes the atrophy of our community-building muscles. Polarization keeps us wary of “the other.” So, we default to what's easy: staying in, ordering delivery, scrolling, streaming, sending an evening's worth of entertainment budget to Silicon Valley and Hollywood.

Choosing Good Ground.

The difference between a half-mile walk and a mile-long errand is the difference between a habit and a hassle.

The most vibrant third places are close enough that visiting doesn't require a plan. That's the whole lesson of Fortville versus Brownsburg; the difference between a half-mile walk and a mile-long errand is the difference between a habit and a hassle. As Linger’s map fills in, it’s easy to see the gaps where third places are needed.

The key differentiator from other search tools is how much niche information Linger gathers about third places. The unique “third-placey” characteristics are the most important part of the site. Over time, Linger will have data-driven geographic patterns that I can surface to planners, business owners, and the people who benefit from the places. Those patterns will answer questions like, “What unique third-placey qualities are present in this area?” and “What are people searching for that they don’t have nearby?” Translating back to garden-speak, “What kind of garden can I encourage in this particular combination of soil, sun, water, and temperature?”

Community-Driven Tending.

Now in its third year, my garden takes great care of itself. But gardeners know that any plant is considered a “weed” if it’s growing in an undesirable location. The most common offenders in my garden are actually trees: mulberries and maples. So, every few weeks, I walk through and do some manual pulling and pruning.

I have not, and will not, write an automation script to seed Linger with 10,000 third places overnight. The deep, high-quality data that Linger needs to serve its mission can only be provided by the people who know the places best. Any user with a free account can add a place in about three minutes and then the community can keep the information up to date. Linger has maintenance tools to help users make edits while baking in trust and corroboration mechanisms to keep things high quality.

We don’t do star ratings or rankings that “yuck someone else's yum.” Third places are a matter of taste, and the goal isn't to crown the “best.” Linger helps people find their kind of third-placey spots, and it surfaces genuinely good places because the community tends them, not because they bought a better ranking.

The Tipping Point Toward a Self-Sustaining Ecosystem.

It’s a lot of work to get a new garden started, especially if it’s replacing a lawn full of herbicides and insecticides. You have to encourage native plants to re-seed themselves and new bugs to build their populations. The cities that thrive are the ones that get newcomers out, exploring, spending time and money locally. Every additional person in a place adds to its character, especially when it’s demographically diverse. The vibrancy and activity become their own kind of draw to a place and that’s when it tips toward self-sustaining.

Part-Time Gardeners Wanted.

I have a lot of hope for what Linger could grow into. I hope you’ll give the site a try. I hope you add your favorite third place. Then, get off your device and get out into the world. Linger won’t try to keep you hooked so it can sell ad space and paid placement (and we never will). Instead, I hope you come back every now and again to do a little pruning and pulling for your community’s third places.

Arec Ligon is the Founder of Linger, a community discovery platform that connects people to third places and teaches them how to be good villagers. He lives in Brownsburg, Indiana where he builds Legos with his 4-year-old son and fixes things around the house with his 6-year-old daughter. Most of all, Arec loves working in the yard to grow beautiful flowers and vegetables for his amazing wife. You can follow Linger on social media at @LingerHQ.

Why You Shouldn't Duck Jury Duty

 

Jury Room, 1959 by Norman Rockwell

By David Churchill Barrow

Jury duty? Don’t duck it; step out of your silo and expand your horizons!

"When the English adopted the institution of the jury, they formed a half-barbarous people; they have since become one of the most enlightened nations on the globe, and their attachment to the jury has appeared to grow with their enlightenment."

- Alexis de Tocqueville 

In Democracy in America, Tocqueville noted a peculiarity in the New England towns that gave the selectmen (the executives under a town meeting system) the unique power to decide who was fit to be placed in the drawing of names for jury duty. This practice survived at least into my younger days, and so it was that my father, a selectman, arranged for my name to be drawn that summer between college and law school. This was easy to arrange, since service was for an entire month, and anyone with a full-time job could plead hardship. He knew that once I was a lawyer, there would be little chance I would be allowed on a jury (because it would taint the laymen quality of a jury, and thus its purpose) and he thought it would be a valuable experience. It was that, and much more. I served on cases ranging from kids stealing beer to attempted murder.

One case was a real estate agent charged with carrying a gun outside that he had just sold to an undercover ATF agent. That act carried a one-year mandatory. This was the 1970s, and I looked just like Ted Neeley in Jesus Christ Superstar. If you got drawn for the 1st chair closest to the judge, you were automatically the foreman, unless you declined. Did you know juries sometimes get to bring the evidence in with them for deliberations? At the conclusion of the trial, the judge said to me: 

“Here is the gun,” as the bailiff handed it to me.

“Here are the bullets. Do not put the bullets into the gun. Do you understand me,

son?”

“YES, your Honor!” I loudly replied with a wide smile, which was returned.

I walked into the jury room upon a cloud of pride and self-importance.

The kids who broke into the supermarket to steal as many cases of beer as they could fit into their car were led by a wiseass punk. When asked why they did it, he said they were thirsty. That did not go over well, with us or with the judge, from the scowl on his face. Now I may have looked like a punk myself, but I remember thinking that defense counsel should take this punk by the ear into a conference room and slap him around some for making his job so tough.

The attempted 1st degree murder case had an interesting twist. A man, outraged that his wife was divorcing him, was accused of shooting a .22 rifle at her as she was entering her car. He missed, but the rounds were clustered near the mirror. My fellow jury members were of the view that perhaps he just wanted to frighten her, and so was not guilty. I wanted to hold out for a guilty verdict. I was a young man completely disgusted with this vile human being, and argued to the jury that forensics showed the site was off on the rifle. They reminded me of the standard - reasonable doubt. They had a point. THAT, and not my disgust, should rule the case.

Tocqueville wrote that “the jury… serves to give to the minds of all citizens a part of the habits of mind of the judge; and these habits are precisely those that best prepare the people to be free.” Jury duty assists us to give a care beyond ourselves as individuals, because as Tocqueville wrote, “it teaches men the practice of equity. Each in judging his neighbor, thinks that he could be judged in his turn.” Its educational value is inestimable.

Tocqueville explains:

“The jury serves incredibly to form the judgment and to augment the natural enlightenment of the people. There in my opinion, is its greatest advantage. One ought to consider it as a school, free of charge and always open, where each juror comes to be instructed in his rights… I think that the practical intelligence and good political sense of the Americans must principally be attributed to the long use that they have made of the jury…”

Cynicism about our legal system, and civic duty writ large, has spread among us far beyond its justification. If you avoid jury duty for “light and transient causes” because you simply lack the inspiration, you are not only depriving your community of your service, but you may be robbing yourself as well. The more diverse and populated the jury pool, the stronger the foundations of our liberty become.

David Churchill Barrow is a Massachusetts “Swamp Yankee” descendant of William Bradford and Myles Standish of Pilgrim fame, who grew up on a farm that has not been sold since first built in the early 1700s.  In that farmhouse still hangs the commission of James Churchill as a captain in the Massachusetts militia signed by John Hancock, and the sword of Thomas Churchill, a Navy engineer who served in the Blockade of the Confederacy.  He met his wife, MaryLu, in high school. They were married in 1979 and have three adult children. MaryLu is a former elementary school teacher. Today they live just outside Tampa, Fla. They are the authors of And Justice for All, Even Redcoats, and are working on their next novel about the Pilgrims. David also writes for PJ Media.

How My 5th Grade Teacher Taught Me To Love America

By Troy M. Olson

As parents, we are tasked with the moral education and development of our children. We are also tasked with the patriotic education and development of our children.

As America celebrates its semiquincentennial - 250 years out from the Declaration of Independence in 1776, a momentous occasion that altered not just the fate of the new world but the arc of human civilization - it's important to know the whole story beyond just our own individual and familial connection to the nation.  

When I was a kid, the Fourth of July was more majestic than Christmas. That’s hard to do for kids. It could have been a number of things: the weather; Minnesota’s (over) 10,000 lakes in all their glory; the extended family gathering, including living relatives of the Greatest Generation; ice cream and fireworks; baseball and the boys of summer; and so much more. 

Even before I knew the story of the founding, I was drawn to the feeling and ambiance of Independence Day.

And heaven knows I devoured every square inch of this set…

World Book encyclopedias from 1991

But, it was the 5th grade, in Mr. Sprafka’s social studies and history class, when I truly began to fall in love with America and the American story. 

Mr. Sprafka and his family lived in a historic home in my small town. Multiple generations living in the same well-kept home is a rarity in the Midwest. The long and harsh winters tend to do a number on houses and maintenance, and whatever the winters don’t do the realities of the ever upward real estate market do the rest. 

When I was eleven years old, though, what I saw was an interesting man who had traveled the world, lived in the most architecturally interesting home in my view, teaching me for the first time the Great American Story, from front to back. The highlight of that story was the American Revolution and its lead up. America was a story of heroes and resilience. Even though my family, like most families, did not enter the picture until decades later, all those who love America and the American people will have their chapter to add. And those chapters gain their inspiration from what came before it - this is our national inheritance.  

Just like much of youth, what I remember most was the enthusiasm and energy from the teacher, which transfers far more than the dates, facts, and figures ever can. It was the patriotic equivalent of the active presence of your parents being there: you don’t remember the details anymore, but you remember how you felt about it.

This summer we must transfer more than just good American vibes, and do more than grumble over the growing discord and differences among groups in the pride of being an American. 

We must find tens of thousands of Mr. Sprafkas from coast to coast to teach children about the Great American Story, and we must tell that story to our own children. As parents, we are tasked with the moral education and development of our children. We are also tasked with the patriotic education and development of our children. This does not mean we must know all of these things, but we must connect them with those who can do what we cannot.   

And I just hope that we all know someone in our life who can competently and effectively tell this great story of America, because transferring that at a pivotal young age may be the difference between whether 250 years reaches 300 years, 350 years, and so on. Because, if every American took Mr. Sprafka’s 5th grade history class and learned the story from him, not only would the kids be alright, but we’d have more adults in the room by now as well.  

Troy M. Olson is an Army Veteran, lawyer by training, and co-author of 'The Emerging Populist Majority' available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Target. He is the Sergeant-at-Arms of the New York Young Republican Club and co-founder of its Veterans Caucus. He has appeared on CNN, CBS, and OAN. He lives in New York City with his wife and two children, and is the 3rd Vice Commander ("Americanism" pillar) of the first new American Legion Post in the city in years, Post 917. You can follow him on X/Twitter and Substack at @TroyMOlson

Did Someone Say... New Podcast?

 

By Frank Filocomo and Troy M. Olson

We don't always post on Tuesdays, but when we do, it's because episode one of The Frank Forum podcast is now live on YouTube! 

That was a Dos Equis reference, for those who remember the meme. Perhaps I'm dating myself a bit here...

Anyway, you heard right: every other week - or fortnightly, if you're a logophile like me - we'll be posting an episode of our brand spanking new audio/visual podcast.

I know what you're thinking: "Oh great, another podcast! We need that like a hole in the head!" Well, listen: This one's different. We swear!

Troy and I recognize that "the I needs the We to be." In other words, Americans are all so desperately lonely, and both Right and Left manifestations of liberalism have left much to be desired. Namely, purpose and belonging. 

We'll discuss how we introduce the "We" back into a culture that has so gratuitously overemphasized "Me, Me, Me." 

We hope you'll join us on this communitarian journey. 

And thank you to the fine lads at the New York Young Republican Club for giving us a platform to conduct this podcast. 

Find episode one here:

Grateful To Be an American

 

By Frank Filocomo

This is not a political blog, nor will it ever be. 

But some things are so egregious, that I feel a need - nay, a duty - to call them out.  

Last week, a gaggle of DSA-endorsed Leftist radicals won their respective primaries in three New York congressional districts: Brad Lander in NY-10, Claire Valdez in NY-7, and Darializa Avila Chevalier in NY-13. 

These three are not the Democrats that my parents grew up with, and, at times, voted for. No, these are revolutionaries. They detest Americanism, and, by extension, Western Civilization. 

As University of Pennsylvania Law Professor Amy Wax would rightly ask of these Marxist, pseudo-intellects: "Does the spirit of liberty beat in their breast?"

The answer is an unequivocal and resounding no. 

Now, at this point, some might ask, and perhaps exasperatingly so: "Frank, why are you wading into the world of political punditry? This is supposed to be a blog about 'the revitalization of America's distinct civic culture.'" 

If you find yourself asking suck a question, I hear you. But, as stated earlier, some things are so offensive, and so rebarbative, that they must be addressed. 

This goes beyond politics; this is about who we are, and, perhaps just as important, who we are not.

Since the beginning - 250 years ago, that is - we've been a people who have embodied an ethos of ordered liberty, self-governance, and a dedication to the pursuit of human flourishing. 

This is the country that my father, born in Southern Italy, emigrated to in 1960. My dad's old hometown, while beautiful (just look up a picture of Roccella Ionica, a town in Calabria), was devoid of economic opportunity, or of any chance of upward mobility. 

My father (left) and my late Uncle Frank (right) on their way to America

America provided my father, not just with better economic opportunities and schools (there were no colleges in Calabria until the University of Calabria was established in 1972), but with a new identity, tethered to an awesome inheritance and history. 

My father, along with a great many other immigrants, many of whom I have met, is forever grateful for having become an American. 

An ascendent group, however, hates America and actively seeks to dismantle it, starting at the founding. 

Darializa Avila Chevalier, a 32-year-old professional college student and victor of the Democrat Party primary for NY-13, called America a "f**king disgrace." 

What's more, in 2019, Chevalier tweeted the following: ""I forgot to get napkins so I just wiped my hand on the American flag behind me."

2019 Tweet from Darializa Avila Chevalier

This doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of this Marxist trio's long history of disgusting, anti-American and anti-Western smears. 

If we are meant to be, as Amitai Etzioni writes in his 2019 book Reclaiming Patriotism, "members of one overarching community with a shared set of core values and interests," then we must thoroughly reject and condemn the above sentiments. They are incompatible with Americanism. 

Sadly, we must shake hands with the fact that the DSA wing of the Democratic Party is, indeed, ascendant. 

It will be up to thoughtful Democrats - and Americans of all stripes, for that matter - to discard the warped, revisionist packaging of America that the Mamdani-ites are selling, and put forth something better. 

The Social Isolation of Remote Work

By Frank Filocomo

Working from home is certainly convenient, but it can also be socially isolating.

I'm a remote worker. 

My commute is from my bed to my desk, which is pretty nice. 

I spend a lot of quality time with my 19-year-old cat, Vinny, too. He's a regular on my organization's weekly Zoom staff calls. 

At my last job, I took the train from South Brooklyn to our office in Midtown Manhattan: a commute of about an hour and change. 

There's no doubt that I'm grateful for my current situation - very grateful, indeed - but I'd be lying if I said there were no downsides. 

By virtue of working remotely, I am largely cut off from social connections from the hours of 9-5. 

Sure, there are exceptions to this, particularly thanks to Zoom, but it's mostly just me, myself, and I... and Vinny the Cat, of course.

In an article for NPR, Rhitu Chatterjee reports on a new study in Science that documents the drawbacks of remote work, particularly as it concerns lack of social connectedness. 

From the editor's summary:

After the pandemic, workers in remote-capable jobs spent more time working alone and avoided social activities with their friends, remaining more isolated both during and after work. This pattern was most pronounced among remote workers living alone: They spent entire days without human contact and their mental distress, use of mental healthcare, and antidepressants increased acutely.

The study's authors, Chatterjee writes, "found that workers in remotable jobs had experienced a 58% rise in hours spent alone compared to people in non-remotable jobs. These workers also saw a 72% rise in chances of spending their whole day with no human contact."

Humans are not built for this...

In Reclaiming Conversation, a book that I have included in Frank's Bookshelf: Recommended Reading for the Communitarian Mind, Sherry Turkle writes about the impromptu meetings and face-to-face conversations that used to be part and parcel of in-person office work. 

From the book:

Audrey Lister, a partner at Alan Johnson Miller and Associates, has worked at this large Chicago law firm for more than twenty years. She joined the firm straight out of law school. Lister talks about her early days at AJM, when she and her colleague Sam Berger were just starting out together. The two young associates would knock on each other's office doors and visit all the time. Lister says that this kind of close relationship made 'work feel like family,' 

When we work remotely, however, we miss out on these surprise office visits and workplace camaraderie.  

This begs the question: Do we all need to return to the office in order to engage in social interaction? 

My answer to that is a simple no. 

Remote work is the way of the future, whether we like it or not. 

Many have remarked that remote workers are more productive than in-office workers, and offices themselves are significant expenditures. 

So, while I commend employers who are setting the clock back and mandating in-person work, remote work isn't going anywhere. 

Thus, it is up to us work-from-home employees to introduce social connections into our day-to-day routines. 

That means: go to the neighborhood diner for your lunch break and make an attempt to familiarize yourself with the waitstaff; schedule touchpoints with your colleagues over Zoom, or if possible, in person; and, perhaps most importantly, go out after work. 

That latter point is imperative.

Work needn't be your whole life. As I always say, look to see what your community has to offer. 

Whether it be a darts or pool league, book club, open mic, or whatever, remote workers must make socialization a priority. 

I Was Raised in 'Tocque-ville'

 

By David Churchill Barrow

The fabric of our society is unraveling, but we are Americans, and we can stop that unraveling and begin “sewing the repairs,” if you will. 

It was a crops farm upon a few dozen acres of upland surrounded by swamp (yes, I am a genuine “Swamp Yankee”) in a little New England town that made Andy Griffith’s Mayberry look like Manhattan. My mother died when I was two, and when my WWII Marine father looked at me, he may have seen a glimpse of my mother. He seldom raised his voice to me, let alone spank me (in the days when most children were spanked!). When I was 12, he built a little cabin in the woods behind our house for me and my friends so I could grow up carefree. This scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade makes me tear up, because it sounds like my father talking.

Did I get away with much? Not in THAT town. Everyone knew my dad. He was a Selectman, which also made him a police commissioner. Any dangerous or destructive shenanigans were sure to get back to him. On the other hand, folks would give us kids a ride if they saw us walking somewhere, and the nurse who lived across the cornfield would patch up my inevitable cuts and bumps. I was raised to call our closest neighbors “Aunt Betty” or “Uncle Joe.” So long as I kept my grades up and our only full-time cop, Hubie, didn’t have to stop by and have a chat with my father too often on my account, I was free to come and go as I pleased.

In Democracy in America, Tocqueville cited the New England town meeting as a source from which American exceptionalism sprang. We had one every year, where the town’s citizens themselves were their own legislature. These could be entertaining to say the least. This scene from Blazing Saddles brings back fond memories. For years my father was up on the stage with his fellow selectmen, the town’s only lawyer (with whom I would later apprentice) serving as moderator. When I came of age, I played a minor role as planning board member. There wasn’t much to plan, but I got to march in the Memorial Day parades along with my dad.

Russell Kirk pointed out decades ago that there are only two alternatives to these extended families of voluntary association: atomic individualism, or compulsory collectivism.

This was a town where Burke’s “little platoons” and Tocqueville’s “associations” grew like weeds. Burke saw these “platoons” as cultivating the natural desire God placed in mankind to be in communion with one another. As Marcus Aurelius wrote in his Meditations, we are made to cooperate with each other as hands are to feet. The larger attachments, love of country, and regard for humanity in general, spring from these “platoons” and do not arrive sua sponte. Russell Kirk pointed out decades ago that there are only two alternatives to these extended families of voluntary association: atomic individualism, or compulsory collectivism.

We see the consequences of atomic individualism all around us: loneliness, suicide, despair, depression and general hopelessness (Frank has often written upon this subject, see his latest on Gen Z loneliness). Some call this “freedom,” but it is, as John Adams called it, “the freedom of the wolf.”  As for compulsory collectivism (a position approached by the far-left today) we need only look to the 20th century horrors of Nazism, Mao’s cultural revolution, or Cambodia’s killing fields for just a few examples of where that road can lead.

The fabric of our society is unraveling, but we are Americans, and we can stop that unraveling and begin “sewing the repairs,” if you will. It can start right outside your front door. If you have kids, go outside, push them ahead of you, and leave the electronics behind. Maybe get a dog and walk around, or go to a local dog park. You’d be surprised how many neighbors you will meet that have dogs, or just want to get acquainted with yours. Join and support a local church, civic organization or charity doing much that is good in your neighborhood. Find out who might be elderly or in need of a friend. Find what Frank calls a good “Third Place” beyond work and home, where spontaneous connections are made, much as they were in the iconic “Cheers” bar. Erosion is slow but certain. Our local communities are our foundation, and it needs shoring up, if we are to continue to be what Lincoln called “the last best hope of earth.”

David Churchill Barrow is a Massachusetts “Swamp Yankee” descendant of William Bradford and Myles Standish of Pilgrim fame, who grew up on a farm that has not been sold since first built in the early 1700s.  In that farmhouse still hangs the commission of James Churchill as a captain in the Massachusetts militia signed by John Hancock, and the sword of Thomas Churchill, a Navy engineer who served in the Blockade of the Confederacy.  He met his wife, MaryLu, in high school. They were married in 1979 and have three adult children. MaryLu is a former elementary school teacher. Today they live just outside Tampa, Fla. They are the authors of And Justice for All, Even Redcoats,  and are working on their next novel about the Pilgrims. David also writes for PJ Media.

A Roundabout Way To Make Communities Safer

 

By Frank Filocomo

American cities ought to be walkable and safe. That shouldn't be too much to ask. 

Unfortunately, though, our car-centric culture has made pedestrian safety an afterthought. 

Just read Streetsblog to get a taste for how dangerous many of New York City's intersections are.

This, from a recent Streetsblog article:

Will the city wait until a kid is killed before making a notoriously dangerous Queens neighborhood safe?

That’s what parents who send their children to the Baby Steps daycare in Rego Park are wondering after another near-miss right in front of the early childhood education facility that took out the front fence as well as crushed a memorial to a cyclist killed by a driver in 2017. That crash was in the same week in April 2025 when another driver struck a 5-year-old crossing the street.

Americans, however, need not be subjected to these dangerous intersections. 

In an instructive article for Public Square, Robert Steuteville makes the case for roundabouts as a safer alternative to the all-too-quotidian traffic light intersections:

Roundabouts force cars to slow down, thus creating a safer environment for pedestrians to navigate. What's more, unlike the traditional intersection, roundabouts keep traffic flowing. 

Carmel, Indiana, Steuteville writes, has a whopping 158 roundabouts. 

From the article:

A city with few traffic lights, such as Carmel, needs few turn lanes—which blow out intersection dimensions and make crossing distances much longer. Instead, crossings at roundabout intersections are broken into two, giving pedestrians refuge in the middle. Well-designed roundabouts slow traffic to 20 mph or less—speeds that are much safer for people outside of cars.

This is the way, and other cities should be taking notes. 

According to Dr. Virginia Sisiopiku of the University of Alabama at Birmingham, roundabouts reduce severe crashes by 78%. 

I'm convinced: roundabouts work. So, the question is: why don't we have them all over the country? 

Conversations at Baseball Games

Citi Field, 5/29/26

By Frank Filocomo 

On Friday, I went to a Mets vs. Marlins game with my good friend, Laik Green, whom, despite being a New Jersey- resident and former part-time New Yorker, is a fan of the latter. "The Fish," he usually calls them. 

To be sure, I'm a life-long Yankees fan. My father, upon coming to this country by way of Calabria in 1960, quickly became a diehard fan of the ole Bronx Bombers. He used to listen to games on his little radio. And that was when they sucked! 

Anyhow, on Friday, I was, along with Laik, a Marlins fan, too. 

Laik and I are baseball fans, so we we're pretty dialed in the whole game. In fact, most of our conversation consisted of strategy, play-by-play commentary, and other rank punditry. 

Sure, we spoke about other things, but, for the most part, we were invested in America's Pastime. 

The whole time, I couldn't help but notice the Zoomers to the left of us who were standing in a circle, talking, and facing away from the action for the duration of the game. Laik and I were confounded.

If socialization was the point, why do it at a baseball game and not at a bar? 

Then, I thought to myself: Are we doing this wrong? Should this be a time for non-baseball-related banter? It just didn't make sense to me...

But then I reminded myself: Quality time with friends can be spent in relative silence. 

I think there's a bit of a misconception about what it means to have a good hang, so to speak, that conversation must be flowing the whole time, like how a radio show isn't supposed to have any "dead air." 

That is false. One need not be loquacious to have a good time with friends. Sometimes, just being in the presence of people whom you care about is enough. While the two of us were laser-focused on the game, we still exchanged the odd quip and took time between innings to get hotdogs and over-priced beer. 

When it comes to conversation, sometimes less is more. 

Finding Your Local Third Place

 

Playing at an open mic in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn

By Frank Filocomo

I've written about my local pub's open mic before (see here), but I think a follow up is warranted. 

Thursdays at 8:00PM have become a constant in my life. It's when I show up at Kitty's, greet the regulars, and jot my name down on the sign-in sheet, which fills up quick. Tardy artists might have to wait until midnight to play, if at all. 

This past Thursday, I played some lighthearted swing tunes, with accompaniment from my friend John on the cajon. For those who don't know, the cajon is a drum that you sit on. For the price of a Guinness, John will be your percussion section for 10-minutes. He busted out the brushes for my two tunes. 

This is my third place, and everyone needs one. 

Third places, to reiterate, are casual, socially-leveling places outside of home and work. They are a respite from life's obligations. What's needed of you: a loose, easygoing disposition and a willingness to shoot the breeze with others. 

You can't be reticent in a third place. I mean, you can, but you'd be missing out on what makes a third place a third place. 

Being that I've become rather prolific in the area of loneliness and social isolation, people often ask me: "what is the prescription for the loneliness epidemic?" 

My response: "Look to see what your community has to offer."

More often than not, there will be a Facebook page for your town. Or perhaps someone has a blog with listings for nearby events. 

In Bay Ridge, we have a helpful site called Queen of the Click, written by a "Bay Ridge resident who makes lists and watches politicians." Want to know the goings-on in Bay Ridge? Queen of the Click is the site to check out. Every locality ought to have one. 

We're lucky to have such a helpful tool here. Every town, though, will have some resources that can be utilized. You just have to be proactive. 

Try things. Some will stick; some won't. The key is exploration. 

So, what are you waiting for? Go find your third place.