Being of use to others ‘our primary mission in this life’

Jim Greenhill walked through the busy newsroom of a Florida daily newspaper one late summer morning in 1994, peered down at me from the top of his lanky, underfed, over-watered, slightly dissipated 6-foot 3-inch frame, and shook my hand. Then he took me to lunch.

He’d been asked to do so by an editor, my new and his longtime boss.

It was lunch across the tracks in the tough part of town, the traditionally disenfranchised and still poor Black neighborhoods where stories of affliction stuck up like rusty nails in an old 2-by-4.

Greenhill spent a lot of time trying to do some good there with award-winning stories, my intention too, both of us working in the tradition of Peter Finley Dunne, the great Chicago humorist and reporter.

In the first decades of the 20th century, Dunne defined a moral imperative in journalism that still resonates in the profession. Stories, he said, should “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.”

Greenhill was giving me a first glance at the people who needed the comfort because they’d had enough of the affliction — from the seat of his muscular little machine, possibly a BMW.

Heading off the newspaper parking lot with him, I thought, was probably like heading off a slap-dash grass airstrip near London in a fighter plane, during the Blitz.

We may or may not have been sober. We got in, he hit the gas and we roared away to our destinies. We weren’t just going to work. We were on a mission.

It wasn’t as far-fetched as it may sound. London was Greenhill’s hometown. From boyhood, he’d been sent to fine schools populated by students whose families had served. On his mother’s side, at least, service had cost them: they were veterans of both World Wars, and three of Greenhill’s great uncles — brothers — had been killed in World War I.

But whether his parents liked it or not, Greenhill went his own way. Smart and capable, he didn’t go to Oxford or Cambridge Universities. He didn’t join the British Navy or the British Army. Instead, he traveled to the United States and enrolled in the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, ultimately becoming a reporter and, much later, an American citizen.

Greenhill and I worked together for a couple of years on the newspaper before moving on — he became a reporter in Colorado, where I went to care for my cancer stricken father.

Then, one day, everything changed. Americans arose on a clear morning in 2001 and suffered through the tragedy of 9/11.

I’ve given you this history because I spoke to Greenhill last week while reporting on a 30-year retrospective article. He’s harder to reach these days because now he’s Master Sergeant Jim Greenhill, on active duty in the United States Army National Guard.

Immediately following 9/11, Greenhill walked out of the newsroom and tried to enlist. Too old for typical enlistments, he was sent to boot camp only after months of appeal. He could easily have gone to Officer Candidate School, but he chose to serve in a way that’s shaped the most honorable and rewarding of lives. He’s been in Afghanistan, Iraq and many other places.

When he called me suddenly on a Tuesday before Thanksgiving, he was so far away — six hours ahead, he said — that our conversation was punctuated by three-second delays. We had to use “over” after speaking so we wouldn’t interrupt each other.

“Jim, in our troubled and politically divisive country, why and how have you found service — both the idea and the reality — valuable or rewarding? OVER!”

Here’s what he told me.

“One of the most significant things in my life is turning my focus from inward and self-centered to outward — to other people, to people around me as part of a team.

“It helps to have yourself squared away first, before you can be of any use to other people. But once you get yourself there, you can be of use.

“And that is our primary mission in this life. OVER.”

Let me repeat: Being of use to others — service — is our primary mission in life.

“Got it. Over,” I said.

“Beyond that,” he continued, “yes, there’s polarization at home, and maybe that’s a cycle. But across the spectrum, we also have a tremendous number of things in common. We’re all human, and we have more in common than we don’t.”

I maintained telephone silence.

“So for me, being in uniform has been an absolute privilege. We Americans are so lucky to have each other, with so many motivated by service — by the idea of service. Those who do it in uniform are extraordinary. A broad cross-section of Americans, from every walk of life. In their minds and hearts, they are made for service.

“So it’s a beautiful thing for me, to serve alongside these Americans.

A long pause. “Over,” he said.

“Got it, over.”

“I can give you one anecdote,” he said.

“I have the privilege of going overseas a lot. In every country — it could be in London or Amman or anywhere — when you drive by the American embassy you always see a line of people. Always. Those are people who want to come to the United States. So regardless of the challenges we may face” — he paused — “we’re still an inspiration and a hope to a lot of other people. Over.”

I thought about it. Here’s something else Peter Finley Dunne once said.

“The world is not growing worse and it is not growing better — it is just turning around, as usual.”

But on this turn, we’ve got MSG Jim Greenhill, and those who serve others. Over. Out.

This column originally appeared in December 2021.

The post Being of use to others ‘our primary mission in this life’ first appeared on Palm Beach Florida Weekly .