IT'S FASHIONABLE in some quarters to sneer at the current popularity of "It's A Wonderful Life." Pauline Kael, the former New Yorker movie critic, derided its sentimentality and that of other Frank Capra films like "Capracorn."
Possibly because he was an immigrant, Capra had a keen and transcendent feeling for America that allowed him to see into the hearts of Americans and discern the good. His voice resonated in a people suffering through the devastating Depression, which many believed resulted from greed, selfishness, self-indulgence and unchecked power. He championed those who cared unabashedly about their families, their communities and their country. They did those kind deeds that made angels get their wings, not to dress up their resumes or to call attention to themselves, but because it was the right thing to do.
"What goes around comes around," they say. After another period dedicated to greed and self-absorption, angels are making a comeback and Capra is speaking to Americans with a surprising immediacy. Fortunately, there have been many George and Mary Baileys -- the lead characters played by Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed in the movie -- around to help us keep faith in human nature during those years when it was easy to lose heart.
I know a Baltimore-area couple who could have walked right out of a Capra film. Both of them are almost 80 and live quietly and unpretentiously. They would be the first to deny that they are remarkable; yet, they are special. Why? Because they remind us that love is all about commitment and caring -- not the stuff of trashy movies or MTV videos.
The couple, who I'll call George and Mary to protect their privacy, were born in Baltimore and graduated from high school in 1932. It was the height of the Depression and after loading produce for a while, George was lucky to land a job driving a truck. He enlisted in the Navy during World War II and after rigorous testing qualified for electronics training and became part of a top-secret operation. Discharged three years later, he worked at a series of jobs that enabled him to buy some land in Baltimore County where he took up farming. You may have been one of those who eagerly watched for his sign indicating that the apples and peaches were being harvested and were ready for sale. George sprayed and pruned the trees and picked the fruit well into his 70s, while Mary ran the stand.
They took a shine to our four children and their affection was returned in kind. One day our twin boys asked Mrs. Bailey why she didn't enter her produce in the Maryland State Fair. She said she didn't have the time, but if they took care of the paperwork, she would enter the peaches our family still use as the benchmark for excellence and her special jam. Not surprisingly, she won first prize. The children were thrilled and she was hooked. She subsequently won many ribbons, which she proudly displayed, always crediting the children for their encouragement.
A few winters ago, while leaving home to visit her grandson with a care package of goodies in hand, Mary slipped on the icy steps. A nasty blow to her head caused massive internal bleeding and the prognosis for recovery was dismal. George stayed with her day and night at the hospital. After weeks in a coma, she miraculously recovered and returned home. Although her sunny disposition remained, her memory was gone. Mary had difficulty remembering what she was told from one minute to the next. The doctors told George that he would have to teach her to remember. He also had to make sure that she didn't forget and leave food cooking on the stove or otherwise place herself and/or others in jeopardy.
George stopped farming to care for Mary, helping her re-learn simple tasks and forever playing memory games with her. In so doing, he kept this "blithe spirit," whose favorite pastime is playing the piano and singing hymns, connected to the world around her. Still a vigorous man, he missed his fruit trees, but he couldn't leave her alone long enough to tend them. Just what he meant to her became clear when he was rushed to the hospital with what was later diagnosed as a kidney stone. Lost and frightened, she pleaded for help for her dear "Bruz." And when he returned home a little worse for wear, she looked out for him. Through it all, he kept his sense of humor and she thrived under his care. He expressed disappointment when she hit a plateau, but he felt lucky that she had survived and that she was so much more self-sufficient.
A few months ago, Mary suffered a seizure and a transient stroke. Shortly after she returned home, I ran into George who told me, with some sadness, that although Mary was as happy as ever, she had forgotten everything she had learned since the first hospitalization and it was back to square one. He didn't say it with a self-pitying tone. Rather, he shook his head in resignation and wonderment at what a complicated structure the brain is and how some circuits can be affected while others remain intact.
So here's to our Mary and George Bailey, and all the people who suffer physical setbacks as well as the care givers such as George who don't live by the gospel of "Look Out For Number One."
They care for others unstintingly and in anonymity. Power and money are not their daily preoccupation. Some might call them "chumps," but to me they embody the country's soul. They serve as role models and sources of strength for those of us who have been asked to cope with problems far less daunting. In an age when the pampered have elevated whining to an art form and victimization is in vogue, they seem to say "Spare us the self-pity and make the best of the cards you've been dealt."
Peter E. Dans, M.D., writes from Cockeysville.