The death of a prominent figure on the world stage is like a train: The news itself is the engine, and certain predictable cars are dragged behind. Sometimes it’s the New York Times obituary where the byline is of a person who died years earlier. Sometimes it’s the previously unknown (to most, anyway) secret children. But always, always there’s the localization.
Localizing is how editors connect events happening far away to people, businesses or other actors close to home. Princess Diana worked briefly as a nanny, and we all got to meet the American family she nannied for, who remembered her as sweet and pretty and good with the children. The late Jim Barbieri, in little ol’ Bluffton, Ind., could localize a plane crash half a world away with no Americans onboard: “Bluffton-made Franklin Electric submersible motors” were used in the hunt for the black boxes.
So when Queen Elizabeth died, it was only a matter of time before they started turning up. Thanks to Mitch Harper in Fort Wayne for digging up some good ones:
On Mackinac Island, they’re remembering when Elizabeth and Phillip, aboard the royal yacht Britannia, passed under the Mackinac Bridge:
Two hundred thousand turned out to see her in Windsor, across the river from Detroit:
But the best of all might come from little Crown Point, Ind., where they’re thinking of…flowers:
Hey, it’s usually a reach, but people like to feel connected.
You’d be hard-pressed to get me to say a kind word about Ronald Reagan, but I have always liked this photo:
But that’s me: Always a sucker for a horse. We generally see Reagan in western wear, in a western saddle. But a good horseman can handle both, easily. It’s nice to see two people enjoying a shared enthusiasm.
So then, the week begins. We’re winding down to our departure for the next leg of our world travels, and the very last, or sorta-last chore in the refreshment of our house. The floors are finally refinished, and we should move back into our bedroom in a couple more days. Which should leave just enough time to remake the bed, pack the suitcases and run to the airport. Next stop: Barcelona.
But I’ll be back between then and now. So take care, and have a good week.