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Ten years ago this morning, on a bright, cloudless day, I was driving from Phoenix to Tucson to meet with @GabbyGiffords.
My wife called my cell phone. She and my young kids were at a coffee shop across the street from the shopping center parking lot where Gabby was meeting with constituents. Suddenly, ambulances and police cars where blazing by. A helicopter was landing in the middle of the street.
Gabby had been my friend for years, but I had mixed emotions about the meeting we were to have that day.
The day before, she had sent what would be her last tweet for a long time endorsing me for chair of the Arizona Democratic Party. It was not a job I had been looking for.
The day before, she had sent what would be her last tweet for a long time endorsing me for chair of the Arizona Democratic Party. It was not a job I had been looking for.
We had just ended the 2010 elections. She had run for reelection. I had been the nominee for Arizona State Treasurer. In Arizona, the angry, ugly, nativist right wing politics that would soon sweep the nation had roared into view.
Along the campaign trail, we had each seen the anger out there. We had been spat on. When I had looked into the eyes of Gabby's new husband, @CaptMarkKelly, who loved her and loved America, but clearly did not love politics, I saw his fear it could get far worse.
On Election Day, I lost by a lot. Gabby narrowly won.
When, a few weeks later, some elected officials and activists asked me to run to chair the state Democratic party, I said no at first.
When, a few weeks later, some elected officials and activists asked me to run to chair the state Democratic party, I said no at first.
I felt more comfortable as a policy wonk than as a partisan warrior. I had ended a long, tough, and failed campaign. I hadn't worked in almost two years. I had a new baby girl and young son at home. I wanted a break from politics.
Then Gabby called. She said the post was one from which I could help bridge divisions and offer new ideas. I still hesitated. She said she knew it was not what I had originally wanted to do.
And then she said words I can still hear, echoing over the years, “Andrei, sometimes you don’t get to choose the way in which you’ll serve.”
I said yes. We made plans to see each other that weekend in Tucson.
On that Saturday, Gabby and her husband Mark’s lives, and the lives of so many others, changed forever.
On that Saturday, Gabby and her husband Mark’s lives, and the lives of so many others, changed forever.
If afterwards, Gabby and Mark had decided to spend the rest of their days focused only on her healing, and holding tight to each other and their loved ones, they would still have been rightly hailed as heroes who gave so much-in fact, almost everything-in service to their country
Instead, they stepped forward to serve even more. They focused not only on her healing, but on healing our nation’s wounds, working to make our civic discourse less coarse.
They launched @GiffordsCourage to advance common sense gun laws -- plunging into the most contentious, bitterly divisive issue in America today.
And @CaptMarkKelly, the military man who hated politics, stepped forward to run for and serve in the U.S. Senate, placing his hand to swear on a Bible that under different circumstances he instead would have been holding for his wife
Their lives today are not what they imagined when they awoke on that Saturday morning ten years ago.
Few of us imagined a nation where thugs attack our Capitol and hundreds of thousands needlessly die.
But each of us can make things better.
Few of us imagined a nation where thugs attack our Capitol and hundreds of thousands needlessly die.
But each of us can make things better.
Sometimes you don’t get to choose they way in which you’ll serve.
