I learned about Tony Bender’s Nov. 24 death through a friend’s late-afternoon text.
It was a Monday — deadline day — and I was too burrowed in my work to notice any happenings beyond my own nose. I finished up just in time to have dinner with my son before hearing Pulitzer-prize-winning writer Louise Erdrich speak on her latest, “The Mighty Red.”
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Everything about that day had a writing theme: my deadline, a famed author’s appearance, and a fellow journalist’s death.
The next day, I learned the sad truth that Tony had been suffering from, and died of, esophageal cancer. Admittedly, I’ve mostly stayed away from his writings, especially after his unfavorable words concerning my stance against abortion. Despite this, there’s a quiet admiration that many opinion columnists hold for one another, finding commonality in our shared plight of receiving occasional backlash.
The same day I heard about Tony, I received an invitation to sing at the funeral of a fellow parishioner whose soul-story I wrote in Jan. 2018. Steve Bulat had been aptly nicknamed “Iron Man” by friends after his valiant comeback from cancer, but despite his cheerful tenacity, he, too, succumbed to the disease a few days before Tony.
Steve and his wife, Ella, used to sit in the same section of our church at the same 5 p.m. Saturday vigil Mass we attend. Lately, we’d been noticing their absence. Ever since I heard Steve’s story in his living room, he’d stayed in touch, often texting words to cheer me on. “Keep the pen (keyboard) going,” he once wrote.
When a more controversial column was published, he’d popped back in: “Ella and I both liked your article. Hope you’re not getting beaten up too bad.”
Following Tony’s death, fellow columnists began writing about him, naming him “the most talented columnist and perhaps the best writer, period, in North Dakota” (Mike McFeely).
Other headlines singing his praises appeared elsewhere. Tony was a longtime communicator in North Dakota, and such a life does deserve a public tribute.
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Though Steve did not receive such a high-profile goodbye, his funeral was beautiful and meaningful, and I know he was loved by many.
In both cases, the men battled a fierce disease, and each had a powerful influence on their spheres, it seems, making a huge impact on many. A major difference for me was that one encouraged me and the other discouraged me; one respected my pro-life position and the other denounced it.
Tony recently offered a public confession of sorts that has helped me better understand his struggle with my convictions, and I’m sure there’s much more than what he shared here. I’ve been praying for each man’s soul. God knows all.
I’m left wishing, however, that I had gotten to be in the same room with Tony and Steve. Any misunderstandings would have likely fallen away. With Steve and his optimist, teddy-bear personality bridging the gaps, I’m confident we’d have all left as friends.
Perhaps such an encounter can still happen someday.
The Trust Project
