AN INTERVIEW WITH UNCLE SAM

By Edwin Cooney

Last week in response to my column urging people to vote, a reader sent me a chapter of a book called “The Killing of Uncle Sam.” According to the gentleman who sent me Chapter 38 of this book, Uncle Sam, a good guy, is being killed by all of the sins America has committed. The point of the book, as I understand it, is that America is no longer worthy of our good Uncle Sam. (Despite this gloomy analysis, I’m looking forward to reading the book.)

Well, it wasn’t easy getting an interview with Uncle Sam. First, I had to go to the  American Legends Union and agree to eventually interview such personages as Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Rip Van Winkle, and Paul Bunyan along with Babe the Blue Ox. I told them I’d like to interview Donald Trump if I could, but they told me he’d been kicked out of the American Legends Union for being all too real! “We know he’s a real nightmare,” a spokesman for the Union said, “but unfortunately, nightmares can be real and he’s really real and so he’s outside our jurisdiction. We can’t help you with that. Sorry!”

When I finally caught up with Uncle Sam, he was sitting atop an old whiskey barrel in his butcher shop munching on onions, radishes and Brussels sprouts. He was dressed as usual: white top hat with a blue band and a white star, a white vest and blue swallowtail coat, and red and white striped trousers. His white hair and goatee were, as I expected, ever present. “I thought you were a butcher,” I said, “How is it that you’re eating vegetables rather than chawing on a piece of beef?”

“Things change,” Uncle Sam said, “This isn’t nineteenth century America anymore. I spent decades eating beef and pork and after two hundred plus years, beef gets a little boring. So, now I mostly eat fruits and vegetables. I also love fish and eggs.”

“You’ve been represented as Mr. America since the War of 1812 when you had to sign all the packages of victuals you provided to those gallant soldiers and sailors. Instead of signing your given name, Samuel Wilson, you signed yourself as “Uncle Sam.” Why did you do that?” I asked.

“At the time I was supplying a contractor named Elbert Anderson with beef for the American army. The label on the packages of meat had to read “E.A. - US.” Sam Wilson is such a common name and I wanted to be more than just Sam Wilson. Besides, it’s fun being an uncle. If you’re a dad or a grandfather, you’re expected to take responsibility for your children or grandchildren. If you’re an uncle, kids can come to you for whatever they need or for whatever advice you have for them. You can offer your advice and send them on their way. If they take your advice or choose to follow your example, that’s cool. If they don’t, well, they’re still your nieces and nephews. If the old advice wasn’t good, they can come to you for new advice at a different time.”

“So, since all of the people in America are your nieces and nephews, doesn’t that hold you to a higher moral standard? Shouldn’t you be a permanent role model or example of pristine American moral and legal standards?”

“Hell, no!” said Uncle Sam, “If my love for America was solely based on American morality, I’d never have loved her at all. Remember, when I was born we still had debtor’s prisons, women weren’t equal, we largely hated Catholics and Jews, we insisted that certain people were only three-fifths of a human being, and Native Americans were on our national hit list. What America possesses is the highest capacity of any society to overcome her sins. America was born expecting to change and that’s exactly what America has done.

“There is however one rather disturbing caveat to America’s nature: greed. Although the rich don’t have any monopoly on greed, because they are ambitious and have the funds, their greed is more powerful and detrimental than that of common folk.”

“Some people say your real name was Brother Jonathan and that you were actually born in the 1770’s.” I inquired. “Is that right?”

“Believe whatever you want to believe,” said Sam, lighting and tamping down the tobacco in the bowl of a large curved pipe now that his lunch was over. “My existence is loaded with legends. Some say I was born in Arlington, Massachusetts and that my boyhood home was in Mason, New Hampshire. Some say that I died on Monday, July 31st, 1854 in Troy, New York where I lived as an adult. The problem with all that is that that stuff fits the life of Sam Wilson. My name is Uncle Sam.”

“Does that mean your first name is Uncle and that your last name is Sam?”

“Believe what you want to, son,” said Uncle Sam.

“I’m told that Ulysses S. Grant patterned himself after you. What do you have to say about that?”

“Ulysses Grant was a good friend of mine, but the story really has little to do with me. Grant remained nameless for a month after his birth. His mother wanted to name him Albert, but she finally decided to name him Hiram after his maternal grandfather and Ulysses after the hero of the Greek legend. He hated the initials H.U.G. on his trunk when it arrived at West Point, so he insisted that his name was Ulysses S (for Simpson) Grant. Representative Thomas L. Hamer had mistakenly enrolled him as Ulysses S (for Sam) Grant. Of course, that became U. S. Grant. I called him Sam as did his other close friends as we sat at night around the whiskey barrel.”

“What did he call you?” I asked.

“Uncle Sam, of course. Sometimes he’d simply call me Unc!”

‘Do you consider yourself a symbol of patriotism?”

“Well, I love America like all good uncles love their nieces and nephews. That doesn’t mean that I approve of everything they do or stand for,” replied Uncle Sam.

“I have a good friend who says patriotism is silly. He insists he doesn’t love America. However, he appreciates its many benefits,” I told Uncle Sam.

“That’s good enough for me,” Sam said, “Appreciation can legitimately be considered a very close cousin of love. If patriotism is silly, there have been a lot of very brilliant silly national leaders throughout history.”

The last thing Uncle Sam said to me as I prepared to leave was this:

“If sentiments such as love and patriotism were absent from human awareness, not even logic would make any sense!”

RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,

EDWIN COONEY