Understanding the concept of ‘proximitiy’

George Le Masurier

of the Gateway

IF WE’RE being honest, most of us would admit that the news about national or global calamities rarely scratch deeper than the surface of our emotional shells.

Six people shot by a hyped-up gunman in Tennessee? That’s tragic. Now, did the Huskies lose again on Saturday? Another major corporation went broke? Glad I didn’t own their stock. Now please pass the cranberries.

It was my father, a small-town Minnesota newspaperman, who taught me the concept of “news.” For something to be newsworthy, it had to have, among other things, what he called “proximity,” which he defined in both geographic and personal terms.

“If it happens here,” he said, “it’s news. If it happens in Iowa, it’s not.” That’s geographic. But he added, “If it happens in Iowa to somebody from here, it’s still news.” That’s personal.

I gained experiential knowledge of my father’s wisdom as time went on. Like most people, I never gave too much thought to the car accidents or drownings in other parts of the state. But when a friend died on a highway more than 300 miles away, it hit home.

I’ve come to understand that the notion of “proximity” plays a critical role in how each of us understands and relates to the world.

It’s the underlying concept at work as the ripples of the Wall Street implosion begin reaching our Northwest corner of the nation. Unless you sell American-made vehicles for a living, what happens in Detroit or on Wall Street usually seems academic. But not this time.

The financial mess that began with falling house prices has even reached our little safe haven of Gig Harbor. Our History Museum is struggling to complete a new facility because of a real estate deal gone bad. The city itself is racing to trim expenses, and staff, as revenues from development and consumer spending plummet.

Our last in-town used-car lot disappeared overnight. Real estate offices have closed, and some agents have put their own homes on the market. A community once flush with mortgage brokers has only one office remaining open.

According to one source, 237 peninsula homes are currently in foreclosure.

Without my father’s idea of proximity, it’s easy not to think very much about some other guy who lost his job, or some family that lost their home. Without a personal stake, we’re mostly immune to the tragedy and hardships endured by others.

That doesn’t necessarily mean we’re uncaring and cold human beings. We might be employing a necessary defense mechanism. It’s simply too overwhelming sometimes to assume everyone else’s burdens.

My father had a terrific insight when he observed that people are most moved by — and interested in — events that impact them personally. It’s human nature.

So I can’t help but think that right now, we’ve all been touched. We all know someone hurt by the economic shockwave started by someone else, somewhere else. And those of us fortunate to still have jobs and homes should do more than just feel grateful. We should do something extra to help those less fortunate.

We could give something more to the FISH Food Bank, the Key Peninsula Food Bank or the United Way. We could donate to the Thanksgiving Basket Brigade or Habitat for Humanity. And if we can’t give money, we can volunteer our time and skills. A determined person will find many avenues of service at times like these.

Generosity often comes easy when you’re riding the crest of a wave. But when that wave crashes on uncertain shores, it reveals the true depth of our compassion.