Frank's Latest on X

@LarryOConnor Holy yikes

— Frank Filocomo (@FilocomoFrank) Aug 19, 2026

August 18, 2026 at 11:44PM

Frank's Latest on X

ICYMI: Read my review of Chris Murphy's Crisis of the Common Good in @RealClearBooks https://t.co/Nt2w7sFkCN

— Frank Filocomo (@FilocomoFrank) Aug 19, 2026

August 18, 2026 at 09:06PM

On Empty Chairs

 

By Frank Filocomo

I'm not sure who first said, "be the change you want to see in the world," but Dean Perryman is doing just that with his Empty Chairs project. 

According to the website:

In late 2025, Dean lost his best mate Rob. Grief can be isolating - and it can also make you notice how many people are quietly carrying their own things alone.

Empty Chairs exists to create low-pressure spaces where real human connection can happen. No big speeches. No awkward icebreakers. Just a seat at the table.

We all have felt grief at one point or another. But going through the loss of a loved one need not be a solo journey. There's no reason our friends, neighbors, and fellow community members can't help us through hard times. 

Social connection makes everything easier. 

Sara Haynes, in a CBS News interview about Empty Chairs, remarked that "the worst thing is feeling like you're dealing with something all alone."

In a comment responding to the CBS News segment, one commenter wrote: "If you put the phone down, magic happens."

So true. 

The format for Empty Chairs events is quite simple: A host, wearing a conspicuous and easy-to-find orange T-shirt, sits at a pub table and welcomes attendees to join him for however long they like. 

In less than a year, Perryman's project has gone global: there are Empty Chairs events happening in over 20 countries.

There are 260 upcoming events listed on the website, including one in Astoria, NY.

This is a movement. 

Loneliness is a universal affliction; no matter where in the world you are, we all know the feeling and how devastating it can be.

Similarly, we all have the tools at our disposal to combat loneliness. I'm glad to see people are using them.

If you're interested in hosting an Empty Chairs event, click here. 

One Small Town's Ultimate Sacrifice

By Troy M. Olson

Bedford sent its citizen-soldiers to the Second World War just like my hometown did and many towns like it did. But what sets Bedford apart from them all is the sheer magnitude of their community pain.

Last week I finished The Bedford Boys by Alex Kershaw while on my 5th (6th?) plane over the course of eight days. While we ran into just about every conceivable airport issue on our family vacation, I couldn't help but come to the conclusion that my oldest walked away with a core memory. It was here that he discovered his love for swimming pools.

Alex Kershaw's The Bedford Boys

For myself, when I wasn't trying to finish Masters of the Air, a WWII miniseries featuring the likes of Austin Butler (still not done yet!), I was finishing this beautiful book originally published in 2001. 

2001 was just a few short years after Saving Private Ryan and was the release year for Band of Brothers, essential viewing for any American patriot, veteran, or WWII enthusiast. And, as a member of all three of those groups, I have unpacked just about everything I can get my hands on. So, why am I doing a quasi-book review 25 years later? I think precisely because The Bedford Boys made me look at it in a new way. 

Bedford, VA is the site of the National D-Day Memorial, and is, in part, home to one of the true stories that inspired Saving Private Ryan. I now know why Spielberg chose to fictionalize his account of D-Day and its aftermath. You have to. You have to reach for "story truth" because the total truth is just too painful. Bedford had a population of just under 4,000 people in the 1940 census. I grew up in a town larger than that but not much larger. Everyone knows everyone, or knows someone who knows everyone. Especially if you stick around for a few decades, and most people do. Because these are great places to live and raise a family. Bedford sent its citizen-soldiers to the Second World War just like my hometown did and many towns like it did. But what sets Bedford apart from them all is the sheer magnitude of their community pain. 

In the morning hours of June 6, 1944, in a matter of minutes, Bedford lost nineteen of its sons on Omaha Beach. This was the highest proportional loss for D-Day in the nation. Much of the town would not put together the magnitude of the loss. It took weeks, months, for the information to come into full view for the town's people and the many, many families who were affected. Some of the families had more than one son fighting. In one gut-wrenching account, Kershaw relates the story of a young man who lost his twin brother shortly after refusing to shake his hand (because he did not want to be fatalistic), saying he'd shake his hand after their mission was complete. Fifty years later, when visiting Normandy in his third act of life, he would reach out and shake his brother's hand up on the road where he said they would. 

In all, nineteen of the thirty-four Virginia National Guard soldiers from Bedford - who were in Company A, 116th Infantry Regiment, 29th Infantry Division - were killed on D-Day, and four more died during the rest of the Normandy campaign, two of them from other 116th Infantry Regiment companies. 

The pain of this loss never has left Bedford, only the passage of time and living memory could for those who directly endured it. I think this story resonated so much for me because my hometown lost three (and the overall county area even more) in the Global War on Terror conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. And those losses were excruciating for the town. The pain sticks around because remembering and honoring the war dead means it doesn't actually leave you. It's the most difficult for family, close friends, and perhaps worst of all for the tremendous survivor's guilt that befalls the living veterans. As I was reading the story of this town and its lost sons, I connected so much of what I have observed myself in others these past few decades. This is especially relevant because WWII is "the good war." And my era and Vietnam were "the complicated ones." 

For Bedford, VA, even the good war meant mostly pain. I hope in the years to come to pay a visit to the National D-Day Memorial in Bedford, VA. 

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

Ephemeral Panic, Ephemeral Community

Earlier today, Verizon went down. 

Tens of thousands of users across the country - myself included - were unable to make or receive phone calls. 

Panic ensued. 

Thinking this was an issue specific to my Android phone, I began to frantically scour the internet for answers. 

Google's AI - which is a hit-or-miss - suggested I restart my phone, remove and re-insert my SIM card, and make some tweaks in the settings menu. 

Nothing worked. 

Then I began to wonder: "Maybe there's an outage in the area..." 

That turned out to be the case. 

On PhoneArena, an online tech blog, self-proclaimed "smartphone fanatic" Alan Friedman reported that there were Verizon outages throughout the country: "If you're a Verizon customer and all of a sudden you see the SOS icon on your iPhone, or you can't make or take calls, it is because Verizon is suffering an outage."

From Friedman's article, I was directed to Downdetector, a site that "reports about service issues from around the world."

I quickly learned that I wasn't alone. Within a few hours, well over a hundred messages filled the site's comment section.

"Can't make mobile calls in Western Ma. Data works fine."

"Hitting Michigan too"

"Can't make or receive calls or texts im in Northern Neck of VA"

"Cant make or receive calls in Houston tx but texts work"

I, too, left a comment about Brooklyn's outage. 

For a moment, it kind of felt like we were all in this together. Like a little digital community was starting to build around this shared problem. There was something genuinely fascinating about being instantaneously connected to people around the country, all of whom were in the same metaphorical boat. 

That moment, however, was fleeting.

Just minutes after I left my comment, my connection was restored. 

I promptly called my girlfriend, friends, and parents, assuring them that service was back up and running. 

When I looked back at the Downdetector comment section, I saw that it had quickly dried up. Everyone's service came back, so there was no longer a need to leave a comment with your name and state. 

Kristin from Alabama and Steve from Western Massachusetts had moved on with their lives. 

So long, old friends. 

From this brief, and ultimately trivial, disruption, I extrapolated something that I wanted to share: Community is often ephemeral. That is, when a crisis occurs, our natural reflex is to band together. This is an instinct that is hardwired in us. 

Once, however, the crisis is no more, we also, unfortunately, have a reflex to retreat inward and abandon those with whom we suffered. 

The purpose of community is not temporary expediency; it is long-term trust and reciprocity. 

Now, obviously, there was never a chance to form any kind or enduring ties with these folks on the message board. That would be silly. 

That said, those who commented weren't just looking for answers; they wanted to know that they weren't alone. 

Though fleeting, that nation-wide digital connection was something. 

When more remarkable crises occur - and they always do - let us stay connected with those who helped us get through it. 

-Frank

Send More Postcards

 

By Patrick Trouba

Postcards are a forgotten but fun way to create connection when you’re traveling, even if they have their challenges.

I stared at the rack of postcards in a souvenir shop during my first day in Amsterdam, trying to figure out which ones best represented the magnificent Dutch city to me. Who are these for? I wondered. Who is buying these? I didn’t wonder that because I don’t like postcards or think they’re stupid; quite the opposite (the answer to those questions is: me). But I knew it might not be easy to figure out the logistics required to actually post the cards, to deploy them according to their design and purpose. Even back in America, it wasn’t always easy, which is a shame because postcards are a travel activity with a lot of potential for human connection.

My dedication to sending postcards began as a way to let my grandparents know I was thinking of them through the last years of their lives. When I had occasion to travel, usually a professional conference or a short trip with friends, I’d keep an eye out for a good postcard. Once I found one, I’d send two copies, one to my grandparents, and one to my parents. If Mom and Dad confirmed receipt, that was a good sign that the mailbox I picked wasn’t a dud and Grandma and Grandpa had received theirs as well.

After they passed at the end of last year, I didn’t see any reason to stop sending postcards. If anything, I could expand the operation. My recent trip to Europe, my first time on the continent, provided the perfect opportunity. The itinerary: four days each in Amsterdam and Paris, both solo, and then joining a group for a trip through southern France, most notably to the Catholic pilgrimage sites of Rocamadour and Lourdes. I sent a total of 11 postcards to four addresses back home. It reminded me why I like doing this, and the unfortunate barriers that likely keep a lot of postcards unsold on shop racks.

If you sit down to write a postcard, you might be quickly daunted by how little space there is to write about your trip. But take this as a feature, not a bug. Limitations are the fuel of creativity. 

The first and most obvious benefit of postcards is that your friends and family enjoy two things: hearing about your travels, and receiving handwritten letters from you in the mail. Postcards are an efficient way to do both. If you sit down to write a postcard, you might be quickly daunted by how little space there is to write about your trip. But take this as a feature, not a bug. Limitations are the fuel of creativity. How could I distill my time in Rocamadour for its postcard? Maybe by talking about a “rose” and a “thorn”: the beautiful old chapels that I loved, and the local, barnyard-tasting goat cheese that I hated. Your postcard can take the generic but welcome approach of mentioning a highlight experience, it could play to your recipient’s sense of humor or a shared inside joke, or anything in between.

Postcards also encourage creativity in the variety of places and things they feature. If you think about sending postcards, you might imagine travelling to a city, and sending back a postcard featuring that city. And that’s always welcome. But don’t limit yourself to that, because the postcards don’t. Instead of sending a cityscape scene for the Paris leg of my trip, I picked a favorite Monet painting that was featured in the Musée d’Orsay. Any major art museum will be selling postcards of art in their collection. In Cleveland, at a conference, I found the opportunity to buy postcards of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, where the conference hosted a social evening. Restaurants, cafés and bars, in my opinion, are a very underexplored avenue for postcards. A favorite café near my office, now sadly out of business, stocked postcards among its merch, so I mailed a few and kept one to remember it by. Grünauer, an Austrian-German restaurant in Kansas City’s Crossroads district, delivered the check on a beautifully illustrated postcard featuring itself. I promptly mailed it to my grandparents.

Postcards are also efficient as souvenirs. On this European trip, I had almost no luggage room to spare for three-dimensional gifts for myself, let alone friends and family. But postcards? Those save space, and you’re supposed to get rid of them (mail them out) before you come back.

One unexpected benefit of postcards: maybe you’re not a great travel photographer! I’ve been assured that the photos I took in Europe are good, but even while taking some of them, I knew that I wasn’t capturing the beauty of the places that my eyes were seeing in the moment. Where the photography of the postcards was good, they became a way of communicating the grandeur of a place to a degree that I couldn’t with my phone’s camera. Unfortunately, sending a postcard is typically not as easy as it should be. You need three things to send postcards: the card, appropriate postage, and a drop-off point. As I noted, the cards are the easiest. The second, postage, isn’t too difficult if you’re travelling and mailing domestically, especially because you can buy it ahead of time. In Europe, the logistics game was more difficult to play. In Amsterdam, the first souvenir vendor I asked had international postage. In France, most vendors didn’t have it, so I visited a post office while in Paris and lucked out in Lourdes with a vendor who asked if I needed stamps to go with those postcards. The final piece, a drop-off point, shows an eerily similar situation between America and Europe: postal services have degraded and are simply scarcer now. But Google can help you find mailboxes or post offices, and again I got lucky in Lourdes when my hotel could mail my postcards for me.

You’ll also experience returning home faster than your postcards do, not least because you’ll likely wait to mail them until you have experiences to write about. Internationally, this delay is magnified. My European postcards spent time in the system ranging from 11 days to over three weeks. But don’t wait to get home to mail them if you can avoid it! My grandfather once noticed when I sent a postcard with a postmark that didn’t match. That’s when I realized that postmarking cards from the location you’re visiting is part of the postcard magic. It’s sort of like a passport stamp (which I didn’t get in Europe. Thanks, EU Entry/Exit System). It says: you were really there!

Despite these issues, I hope you’ll try sending a postcard or two on your next trip. There’s a lot of potential in them to create connection, particularly with friends and family you don’t talk with all the time and who wouldn’t be the first to receive the pictures you send in texts and emails. Even if they’re close contacts, who wouldn’t appreciate the effort you made to brighten up their mailboxes? It’s another way we can show we’re thinking about each other.

*For bonus effort points, try reviving your grade school cursive. 

Patrick Trouba is a transportation planner working in the Kansas City metropolitan area. 

Dr. Vivek Murthy Is Still Fighting the Good Fight

 

Dr. Vivek Murthy on Semafor's Mixed Signals podcast

By Frank Filocomo

It's been 554 days since we've had a Senate-approved Surgeon General. 

President Trump's first nominee, Dr. Janette Nesheiwat, should have been a bi-partisan layup, but Laura Loomer, the rightwing provocateur and member of Trump's inner circle, launched a relentless social media pressure campaign that effectively took Nesheiwat out of the running for the Nation's Doctor. 

After the jettisoning of Nesheiwat, who was too pro-vax for Loomer's liking, Trump nominated MAHA advocate Casey Means, a vaccine sceptic with an inactive medical license. 

Means' MAHA-adjacency, however, scared off some GOP Senators, forcing Trump to yet again pull his nominee for Surgeon General. 

Fox News contributor Dr. Nicole Saphier is Trump's latest nominee. It's unclear when her Senate confirmation hearing will be. 

Dr. Vivek Murthy's influence still endures.

Dr. Vivek Murthy left the Office of the Surgeon General (OSG) on January 20, 2025.

Though no longer serving as the Nation's Doctor, Murthy has continued his crusade against loneliness and social isolation. 

Just a few days ago, he appeared on Semafor's Mixed Signals podcast to discuss his new Substack Staying Human, as well as America's unabating dearth of social connection. 

"I can tell you that right now we're pretty lonely and isolated," Murthy remarked to Mixed Signals co-host Max Tani. 

Murthy, perhaps better than anyone, is able to articulate what the loneliness epidemic entails with eloquence and clarity. 

In this nearly-hour-long interview, he touches on everything from how social media and AI have exacerbated our feelings of loneliness, to the role that government can play in fostering social connection. 

There may be a trade-off between cancer risk and loneliness risk. 

In an unexpectedly heated change between Murthy and the podcast's other co-host, Ben Smith, the topic of social drinking entered the mix.

Murthy, before leaving office, released the following advisory report: Alcohol and Cancer Risk. In it, he draws attention to the "causal relationship between alcohol use and increased risk for at least seven different types of cancer, including breast (in women), colorectum, esophagus, liver, mouth (oral cavity), throat (pharynx), and voice box (larynx)."

Smith rightly notes that Dr. Murthy did indeed "campaign against alcohol" and postulates that the pros of alcohol - which has often been labeled a "social lubricant" - might outweigh the cons.

I've postulated the same thing, most notably in National Review: The Case for Dive Bars.

"It sounds like," Smith continued, "there's a straight-ahead tradeoff between cancer risk and loneliness risk, and that, as a scientist, you're just instinctively going to just talk about the first one."

Good on Smith for mentioning this. What I initially thought would be a purely softball interview, highlighting Murthy's accomplishments during his time as Surgeon General, turned into a rather spirited back-and-forth. 

Murthy pushed back pretty hard, saying that forgoing drinking alcohol doesn't necessarily mean that one's social life will be lessened. 

The point of the report, as he puts it, was to give people the information so they can make "fully informed decisions."

Wherever you come down on the issue, I think that these are exactly the kinds of conversations that we ought to be having. 

Again, props to the fine gentlemen at Semafor for facilitating a substantive conversation, and props to Dr. Murthy for continuing his extremely important work. 

We need someone to succeed Murthy at OSG.

Let's hope that we get a new Surgeon General soon. Their work - particularly when it comes to releasing advisory reports that inform the public and start national conversations - is absolutely vital. 

That we've gone well over 500 days without someone to fill Murthy's vacancy is unacceptable. 

The sooner Dr. Saphier assumes the mantle of the OSG, the better. 

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