I added the second article to this post on February 5, 2007
Molly Ivins always said she wanted to write a book about the lonely experience of East Texas civil rights campaigners to be titled No One Famous Ever Came. While the television screens and newspapers told the stories of the marches, the legal battles and the victories of campaigns against segregation in Alabama and Mississippi, Ivins recalled, the foes of Jim Crow laws in the region where she came of age in the 1950s and ’60s often labored in obscurity without any hope that they would be joined on the picket lines by Nobel Peace Prize winners, folk singers, Hollywood stars or senators.
And Ivins loved those righteous strugglers all the more for their willingness to carry on.
The warmest-hearted populist ever to pick up a pen with the purpose of calling the rabble to the battlements, Ivins understood that change came only when some citizen in some off-the-map town passed a petition, called a Congressman or cast an angry vote to throw the bums out. The nation’s mostly widely syndicated progressive columnist, who died January 31 at age 62 after a long battle with what she referred to as a “scorching case of cancer,” adored the activists she celebrated from the time in the late 1960s when she created her own “Movements for Social Change” beat at the old Minneapolis Tribune and started making heroes of “militant blacks, angry Indians, radical students, uppity women and a motley assortment of other misfits and troublemakers.” . . .
Molly holds a dear spot in my heart because I first started reading her when I was making my own metamorphisis from a conservative to a liberal. She will definitely be missed for not only her standing up for what is right but for also making folks laugh so hard while she did it.
. . . Bush, whom Ivins referred to as “Shrub,” issued a statement after her death that said he respected her convictions and “her passionate belief in the power of words, and her ability to turn a phrase.”
Journalism colleagues packed the church Sunday a block from the Texas Capitol, where so many of the politicians who she poked fun at spend their days. The celebration then moved to Scholz Garden, a famous spot for telling stories and drinking beer near the University of Texas campus. . .
Ahh… I wish I could have been there. Scholz’s is one of my favorite Austin places and definitely was a good fit for a place to drink beer and tell stories about Molly.