On this date, three phone calls

On this date my journal entry recorded yet another threatening voicemail. He would see me in court.

As it turned out I would be there. He would not. Case was dismissed.

Ironically, on this twentieth day of March, the date was set to go toe-to-toe in yet another court battle in which, in terms of paperwork, our defense was outnumbered four-to-one.

We would win.

With one hour to go – the eleventh hour – the phone rang with an admission from the other side that we were right, they were wrong.

And on this day when the phone rang, while couching his words with a respectful nod to our common tendency to take up arms - “we’re fighters aren’t we” – he said he plans to run up a white flag, as it were, initiating a truce of sorts whereby, given the world crisis, he will suggest the long-running skirmishes in which he’s engaged be put on hold.

Right now, there are other priorities.

He wanted to know what I thought.

He’s right. That’s what I think.

The course remains.

The fight will resume.

And for all this he will be remembered.

As one who did not quit; would not deviate; whose colors were still nailed to the mast.

But also, as one who could – in this crisis, even as health officials and faith leaders call for unity amid the coronavirus outbreak - address even his adversaries as allies to fight a bigger battle still.