Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.
Secretary of Health and Human Services
U.S. Department of Health and Human Services
200 Independence Avenue, SW
Washington, DC 20201
Dear Mr. Kennedy:
I’d like to thank you for something you did for me. It’s something you once said that has stuck with me and has risen to a new personal epiphany based on recent events. But before I explain what you said and what followed, some background.
We likely come from two different political worlds. I’m not Irish, nor Catholic. I am the opposite of a big-government liberal. The best government is the government that governs least. I view Northeastern elitism, especially among academia, as an insidious plague, much the way Pharaoh likely felt about locusts. My family’s long adherence to Jeffersonian principles is likely at odds with your family’s devotion to government activism.
Despite us both likely approaching problems from different perspectives, I have a great deal of respect for you. I think you are refreshingly honest and indeed courageous in expressing your honesty. Moreover, I wholeheartedly agree with what you are doing at HHS. Whenever there is power, one will find an agenda to control others, not to mention a blind obedience to self in maintaining power. We all know Lord Acton’s words about power corrupting absolutely, but he also stated, “Authority that does not exist for liberty is not authority, but force.” Forcing an entire nation to take an experimental drug, in violation of the Nuremberg Code, is brute force for power’s sake (the misleadingly labeled “vaccine” was not a vaccine).
Mankind is fallen, and therefore corruptible and subject to being bought, which is why the NIH and the CDC have been so dramatically wrong in their prognoses. Anyone with eyes can see that America has a severe health problem. As such, I applaud you for exposing the fallacy of having centralized and corrupt bureaucrats dictate health policy for the entire nation. I also applaud you for understanding the false religion of scientism, where people want to put their faith in a savior, therefore believe anything Anthony Fauci or the other high priests of science say. These false prophets invoke “science” as a subterfuge to conceal their egotistical lust for power and, despite this, are lauded as divine oracles of truth by the true believers—those women who wear facemasks while driving their $80,000 Range Rover alone.
However, none of the above is why I’m reaching out to you.
On several occasions, I’ve had people tell me that something I said to them years ago had a major impact on their lives—things I don’t even remember saying. I think it’s important for folks to know that they gave meaning to others, especially when they would have no other way of knowing.
I once heard you tell the story about racing through an airport to catch a plane. While running, you threw a small piece of trash (I think a gum wrapper) toward a trash can. It landed right smack in the middle of it, but then bounced out. You were hit with pangs of conscience, and despite the near certainty of missing your flight, you turned around and put the wrapper back into the trash can.
That story stuck, as if it had been absorbed into me, and I think consciously or unconsciously I have been striving to model your experience and do the little things. I’ve never been the type to not put the shopping cart back or to leave a table uncleaned when leaving a self-serve restaurant. I think my Christian credentials are pretty good—churchgoer, Bible studies, Sunday school and youth group leader, voracious reader of theology—but that in no way means I don’t have plenty of room for improvement. I am sure I violate some of the Seven Deadly Sins every day. I pray, but I’m not a good prayer. I’m always in a hurry and thinking about a million different things. I know I don’t take the time I should for true discernment. Of course, there are many other signs of my imperfection.
Lately, I’ve been trying to express thankfulness and gratitude to God, but again, I fall short of what I feel I could be doing. However, your airport story has resonated, and I think going out of one’s way to do the little things gives one a feeling of godliness and a connection to the Almighty. It’s easy to rationalize why we are not compelled to do these things—“I’m in a hurry and have to catch a plane”—but each time one ignores the urge to “blow off” the little thing and act in defiance to do the little thing, God is present, and I feel these acts are an expression of gratitude and thankfulness.
Last week I was at my local Fresh Market store, a daily ritual. My nutraceutical health kick is to get a bag of low-carb, low-sugar nuts for lunch. I mixed the salted pecans ($13.99/lb) with the macadamia nuts ($21.99/lb). The total purchase was $2.74. The cashier asked for the code number, and I gave her the code for the cheaper salted pecans. I realized when I got to the car that it wasn’t an innocent mistake—I did it on purpose. I could have rationalized it: I’ve been overcharged there before; I shop there every day; it’s only fifty cents; I gave $20 to a homeless guy in the parking lot the week before; blah, blah. But I was overwhelmed with guilt. I am sure I’ve done a thousand worse things in my life, but this really ate at me. With all the blessings—not to mention resources—God has given me, is this how I show my thanks and gratitude? I went back the next day, explained the situation, paid the difference, and made a small contribution to the store’s charity fund.
All of this made me think of you and the airport incident. The guilt was so palpable, it was as though I had shot somebody. Upon reflection, I now feel this guilt is a divine blessing. It has made me much more conscientious about being thankful and expressing my gratitude to the Big Guy, and about the importance of striving to do the little things that bring that sense of godliness.
I feel as though you had something to do with bringing me closer to my Maker and recognizing some of my imperfections. As I don’t know how to reach you directly, I thought you might read this article—or have someone forward it to you—and hopefully my thank you will reach you.
Robert Coleman Smith
Richmond, Virginia
