Media reports of last weekend's Promise Keepers event reminded me of that old joke about blind men describing an elephant.
Snobby pundits grabbed one thick elephant leg and proclaimed, ''It's just another tree in the forest - it won't go anywhere.''
Supercilious network reporters felt the side of the elephant and announced, ''It's a wall to keep the rest of us out.''
Feminists grabbed the tail and cried, ''It's a rope to tie women in bondage!''
As the saying goes, none are so blind as those who will not see.
I saw the light last spring when Promise Keepers came to Cincinnati. Last weekend I went again - not as a journalist, but as one recidivist caveman who finally stumbled onto a better path and put life in proper perspective: Faith, family, then career.
I rode with a group of Cincinnati pilgrims, guys who wear white shirts and ties on weekdays, working in insurance, home building, manufacturing, banking and surgical-equipment sales. Not exactly your typical FBI profile of scary subversive radicals.
We did 1,000 miles on popcorn, prayer and Skyline chili dip, eating up the freeway in a V-10-powered prairie schooner equipped with a microwave, shower and eight bunks. We talked about jobs (briefly), sports, what a V-10 could do in a pickup truck, Promise Keepers events and hometowns.
On the way to D.C., a copy of Time magazine was passed around. The coverage was typical: Promise Keepers is too white - although minority participation exceeds national demographics. It's too male - according to the militantly female National Organization for Women (NOW). The stories cleverly insinuated an Islamic jihad of country-club Christians who are spellbound by a football fundamentalist, Ayatollah Bill McCartney.
News stories labeled the ''Stand in the Gap'' gathering a ''coven,'' a ''money-making scheme,'' and ''the greatest danger to women's rights.'' The kindest comment most mediacrats offered was, ''They are not all ultraconservative, right-wing, goose-stepping Nazis. Yet.'' (Enquirer reporter Mark Curnutte's coverage, on the other hand, was excellent.)
There was a lot of snide sniggering about men crying, hugging and kneeling. A single busload of NOW protesters tipped the scales evenly against a first-time event that crammed 500 buses into just one parking lot where we stayed. Looking for ''balance,'' the press weighed 100 women against 800,000 to 1.2 million men - and called it a draw.
The guys on the bus looked at the editor, wondering why. I didn't have a good answer. Like them I was worried: If such ignorance, bias and hysteria contaminates coverage of something I know about, what about the rest of big media's ''objective'' reports?
They wanted to know how the rally would be treated. I predicted that unless something went wrong that could reinforce the worst stereotypes, it would be ignored as quickly as possible - and we should be glad of it.
That's about the way it turned out. Nothing went wrong. Hundreds of thousands of us were crowded together at every Wendy's and BP station off the interstates. We scrambled to claim a few square feet of grassy territory under a cloudless, yellow-hot sky, but there were no fights. Voices were raised - but only in song and prayer.
We gathered not to ask for government handouts, but to join hands and pray for better government. We came peacefully and left quietly, making sure the Mall was completely litter-free.
And we came home dedicated to be better fathers, husbands and members of our churches, promising to break down the barriers that divide races and denominations - to walk the talk on Promise Keeper hats: ''Men of Integrity.''
On the way home, as we drove deep into the night, traffic dwindled and talk turned serious. We discussed wrenching experiences and obligations. We agreed that a family spiritual leader is no Biblical boss - he's just a man who has the courage to share faith and tears in times of trouble, sorrow and loss; it means showing the right way to our sons and daughters, being a better father than ours often were, and standing in the little gaps when volunteers are needed to integrate a church, serve on a board, coach a kids' team, teach Sunday school or just clean the kitchen counter and unload the dishwasher.
As I sat in the shadow of the Washington monument last Saturday, the creamy white dome of the Capitol was framed against fall colors in the distance. The Vietnam Memorial grieved in the dark woods behind us. Abraham Lincoln's piercing marble gaze took in the huge crowd and saw far beyond.
The unblinking sun divided George Washington's towering obelisk into light and shadow, making a razor-sharp line that extended like a pointer to the sky.
I imagined George looking down with a smile and saying to Abe: ''America has seen enough promise breakers. If these men start a national awakening, that would be a real miracle.''
Peter Bronson is editorial page editor of The Enquirer. If you have questions or comments, call 768-8301, or write to 312 Elm Street, Cincinnati, Ohio 45202.
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