Jimmy Tingle, No Kings and Amazing Grace




Photo credit: Concord Bridge

Listening to Jimmy Tingle Saturday as he emceed the No Kings protest/rally on the Stoneham Common, I couldn’t help but think of a 30-year-old preacher in the white church rising up behind him. The year was 1850 and the preacher was the Rev. William Chalmers Whitcomb. On a cool morning in November, he stepped into the pulpit and preached a fiery sermon that called on parishioners to follow God’s law rather than the law of the land.

Then as now, the country was divided. Congress had just passed the Fugitive Slave Act, mandating the return of all former slaves to their owners. State governments, local law officers, and even citizens were called on to aid in its enforcement. The law imposed stiff penalties of imprisonment and fines for anyone sheltering fugitives.

The Rev. William Whitcomb

The Fugitive Slave Act tore apart families, towns, political parties and churches. The governor, most legislators and civic leaders supported it. Even Daniel Webster, the esteemed Massachusetts senator, now secretary of state, hailed the federal law as the best way to keep Southern states from bolting.

In Stoneham abolitionists had met with fierce opposition. The host of the first recorded meeting in town, attended by William Lloyd Garrison, was told his house would be burned down. In a fight after an abolitionist meeting at Town Hall, a 37-year-old man—husband and father of three—had been stabbed to death.

Although abolitionist sentiment was growing, by 1850 most ministers either remained silent or spoke in favor of the federal law. Not so the new minister in Stoneham.

“I make no apology” for speaking on this subject, Whitcomb told the people of Stoneham. He only regretted that he had not spoken out sooner.

He began by citing the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy, Chapter 23: 15-16: “Thou shalt not deliver unto his master the servant which is escaped from his master unto thee: He shall dwell with thee, even among you, in that place which he shall choose in one of thy gates, where it liketh him best: thou shalt not oppress him.”

In defiance of the federal law, Whitcomb called on his congregation to “Hide the outcast or help him on his journey to a safer place, even though you may risk personal security, property, and life.” 

The Stoneham minister urged nonviolent action based on the principle of love. “Shed no blood,” he said. “Wield no weapons but those of truth and love. Use no arms but those God hath given you.”

Fast forward from the church across the street to March 28, 2026, as some two thousand citizens packed the Stoneham Common to protest the federal government’s policies and actions. It was the third national No Kings Day with massive demonstrations geared to stopping the rise of authoritarianism in the United States. Participants protested the war in Iran, the violence of ICE, interference in elections, the targeting of immigrants and LGBTQ+ and attacks on First Amendment rights.

Choirs sang, leaders rallied, a guitarist soloed, protestors chanted, while throughout Jimmy Tingle inspired and entertained the throng with his passion and wit. Pulling a harmonica from a pocket, he opened with a reedy version of the National Anthem. The harmonica reappeared later, when in closing, Tingle told the story of John Newton, the one-time slave trader who repented and became a leading abolitionist. He then played the hymn that Newton wrote, “Amazing Grace.”

I couldn’t help but think, as we left the Common, some to continue to the Boston Common for the 1 p.m. rally there, that Rev. Whitcomb would have been proud.

THE GARDENER

The gardener comes
with a new red hose.
He sets up the sprinklers
under the pepper tree,
waters the zinnias, lilies, iris,
then rakes smooth
the gravel in the path.

Perhaps he didn’t actually see it happen,
I mean the opening of the stone.
But how many of us have
watched a seed open?
Perhaps at the time he was touching
the broken stem of a rose.

These ads are bad for our health

ZILBRINSKA, CAPEZZA, RINBEQA, NUTVIO, IZERLAA, VABSYCO,

Encrypted passwords? Secret codes? Your keyboard exploding? No, these nonsensical clusters of the alphabet are the names of—you guessed it–prescription drugs in TV ads (I’ve scrambled the letters of their actual names, but you get the point).

Want to catch the evening news? But wait, isn’t it possible you have a rare disease or chronic impairment that can only be treated, or managed, with this amazing drug. So be sure to ask your doctor if ABACADABRA is right for you.

If you’re like me, you lunge for the remote—now where did I put it?—and press the mute button. Once you’ve done that, you can sit back and enjoy the show. Because without the sound, these ads are rather pleasant. You’ll see families riding bikes, fathers barbecuing, seniors playing tennis, lovers embracing. Beautiful people, beautiful lives.

Muting the sound also means you don’t have to listen to the side effects, often spoken hurriedly in a low voice. These may include–now don’t panic–nausea, headaches, heart palpitations, bleeding, disorientation, fainting, liver failure, heart failure—and so on, depending on the drug being pitched. Lord have mercy!

Did you know that the United States is one of only two countries in the world that allow direct-to-consumer marketing of prescription drugs on TV. When our cousin from Germany visited us recently, she was amazed. “That’s not allowed in Germany,” she said.

Since the 1980s, when Congress let the FDA loosen rules on direct consumer drug marketing, the airwaves have been saturated with ads. Drug companies must, however, present risks along with benefits.

Big Pharma, which used to only target doctors, now pitches its drugs directly to you. So what’s the harm in this?

First, Big Pharma is asking you to evaluate a complex medical substance and market it to your physician. I don’t know about you, but that’s not my job.

Second, the ads push costly brand names over more affordable generics.

Third, the billions drug companies pay to make and place these ads gets passed on to us in higher prices.

Fourth, the ads are driving us crazy.

How I long for an evening at home watching TV without being battered by drug ads. Ads for heart murmer, incontinence, diabetes, erectile dysfunction. The worst is the one featuring a bent carrot. That’s right, a carrot!

Like millions of other Americans—and people around the world—I’m convinced that TV drug ads are bad for our health. It’s time we asked Congress to stop them.

At the Crosswalk

At the crosswalk a blind woman
offers you her arm
as you cross she says she
has looked into heaven for you          
you cup your hand to your ear
but all you hear is
the turning of keys

She steps into a shop
and you think I should have
said something

You walk on promising
yourself that next time you
will know whether to use the polite
or familiar that next time
you will join the seniors doing
tai chi in the park

that next time you will lift up
the toddler in the doorway
the one that won’t stop crying
and sing him all the verses of the song
you remember now for
the first time

Note: art by Kenneth Patchen from the cover of Panels for the Walls of Heaven, Berkeley, 1946.