Daily Herald opinion: 'Hello, freedom man': In Trump's America, does the country still represent something larger than just its power, wealth and self-interest?

Thirty-seven years ago tonight, Ronald Reagan spoke on TV from the Oval Office for the last time. Here is a little of what he said in that farewell address:

“I've been reflecting on what the past eight years have meant and mean. And the image that comes to mind like a refrain is a nautical one — a small story about a big ship, and a refugee, and a sailor. It was back in the early '80s, at the height of the boat people. And the sailor was hard at work on the carrier Midway, which was patrolling the South China Sea. The sailor, like most American servicemen, was young, smart and fiercely observant. The crew spied on the horizon a leaky little boat. And crammed inside were refugees from Indochina hoping to get to America. The Midway sent a small launch to bring them to the ship and safety. As the refugees made their way through the choppy seas, one spied the sailor on deck and stood up and called out to him. He yelled, 'Hello, American sailor. Hello, freedom man.'

“A small moment with a big meaning, a moment the sailor, who wrote it in a letter, couldn't get out of his mind. And when I saw it, neither could I. Because that's what it was to be an American in the 1980s. We stood again for freedom.”

We stood again for freedom.

This, of course, always has been our purpose as a country and our inspiration as a people. We stand for freedom. This, of course, always has been our message to the world.

How stark and heartbreaking a contrast to the message being sent to the world today by the current administration — one that boasts of seizing Venezuelan oil apparently because, well, because we can; one that argues we have a right to the island of Greenland because, well, because we want it; one that slashes aid to the needy both abroad and at home because, well, because although we have power and wealth, their apparently is no obligation beyond the one we have to ourselves.

How stark and heartbreaking that contrast is for ourselves and our children.

For most of our history, America has represented something large, something bigger than our military might, more captivating that our ingenuity, more inspiring than our nebulous alpha pride. We have been, as Reagan frequently reminded us “a shining city upon a hill.”

We have been a beacon of freedom — the Statue of Liberty famously proclaiming the Emma Lazarus poem: “Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Where is that golden door today? What do we say today to the cry, “Hello, freedom man?” Sadly, we say, “Go home.” Thing is, we don't just say go home. We disparage, we disrespect, we abuse; we say, in our own way, “You are less than human.”

What a heartbreaking message we send to the world and to ourselves.

In that farewell address, Reagan recalled the origin of his “shining city upon a hill'' imagery.

“The phrase,” he said, “comes from John Winthrop, who wrote it to describe the America he imagined. What he imagined was important because he was an early Pilgrim, an early freedom man. He journeyed here on what today we'd call a little wooden boat; and like the other Pilgrims, he was looking for a home that would be free. I've spoken of the shining city all my political life, but I don't know if I ever quite communicated what I saw when I said it … a tall, proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, wind-swept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace; a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity. And if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and the heart to get here.”

Eight years earlier, on the eve of his election in 1980, Reagan remembered another forebear, Joseph Warren, a Revolutionary War patriot who in 1775 proclaimed, “Our country is in danger, but not to be despaired of … On you depend the fortunes of America. You are to decide the important question on which rests the happiness and liberty of millions yet unborn. Act worthy of yourselves.'”

Yes, let us act worthy of ourselves.