The most dangerous animal in the world

Winter 1963

It felt like the world would freeze

With John F. Kennedy

And the Beatles

“The most dangerous animal in world” was probably the title of one of the greatest speeches I ever heard, a work of ironic perfection: It was never given.

I witnessed that jungle-worthy admonition as a 16 yeard-old kid seven decades ago. They came as part of a ridiculous competition to see who would be named valedictorian of the boys’ side of my segregated Catholic high school graduating class. Fresno’s San Joaquin Memorial was segregated. Boys and girls never dared matriculate together (or did anything else together, if the nuns had their way).

The writer of that speech was a young man named John Chakmak, the top student among all us guys in the Class of 1963.

Those damning words haunted me over the past few days as “this monster mannunkind” edged closer to World War III. (Props to poet e.e. cummings.)

SJM was a heavily academic school run the Christian Brothers and the Sisters of the Holy Cross. If you lasted for years, you left with the equivalent of your first or second year of college.

Us kids were taught the officially sanctioned dogma of the word of God. Fortunately, some of the brothers did so with a mischievous wink in their eyes. Grains of salt, anyone? How about a salt shaker?

The selection of the valedictorian in my senior year provided one of my earliest lessons in politics.

The ladies side valedictorian was rightfully chosen by grade point average, as usual. However, a new boys principal changed the rules of the game at the last minute. The top five guys, including me, would compete in a speech contest.

WTF?

I have never been known for my shyness, but I couldn’t get into it and didn’t write anything. As a contestant, I was able to witness the closed-door competition. The judges included the male student body president, who was also the school’s starting quarterback, and two other dudes I don’t remember. All appointed by His Highness, Righteous Principal Brother Mel.

Four of the five finalists went on to distinguished careers: two lawyers, a renowned pediatrician, a university philosophy professor. And me.

The first three contestants gave addresses ranging from mediocre to pretty good. Then came Mr. Chakmak’s memorable advice to teenagers entering a world bristling with nuclear weapons which had just barely survived the 1962 Cuban missile crisis.

The assassination of a president and the first foray by the boys from Liverpool were just one summer away. Vietnam already festered.

If a valedictory address ever lived up to its purpose as a look back and a look forward, John Chakmak’s was it.

I carry his closing lines to this very day. He informed us that New York’s Bronx Zoo had launched an exhibit entitled “The Most Dangerous Animal in the World.” It consisted of a mirror, caged behind bars, and reflecting the image of the viewer.

“You are looking at the most dangerous animal in the world,” read a title atop the enclosure, adding “It alone of all the animals that ever lived can exterminate (and has) entire species of animals. Now it has the power to wipe out all life on earth.”

Zounds. The truth hurt.

Chakmak’s opus was thought provoking, profound and a graduation challenge to all supposedly smart kids to jump in and do something before it was too late.

Here I am 70 years later and I keep hearing John’s words over and over as the flames rise high into a dark night.

John never gave that speech. The judging jocks went for the most pedestrian address exactly because it was mediocre. “It didn’t go over our heads, we felt it was for us,” the quarterback told me later. The winner was his backup QB.

So here we stand, as close or closer to WW3 as we have ever been since 1962.

And nobody seems to have solutions about anything.

I offer only two.

First, an old line from the Sixties: The only way to stop killing is to stop killing.

And my oft-stated admonition which may one day come true: Moms. Women. Let females rule. Men, their egos and their greed cause wars and privation.

Some woman “leaders” get into office feeling compelled to prove they have as much warrior macho as any hairy guy. So they go to war, too.

Witness the first female British Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, back in the fantasyland of her BFF Ronald Reagan.

Much more enlightened female leaders have emerged since, most of whom are not rock stars. But some are.

Consider recently retired New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern. Shortly after she got to the top came COVID-19. She had to shut her country down to keep the plague out. And succeeded admirably.

She set a standard almost unmatched in the world. For an encore, she became the first head of state to give birth while in office in more than a century.

Women are just plain wired differently than wannabe warriors.

Us dudes have failed. Miserably. Wise men like John Chakmak get silenced. Or worse.

For centuries, artists and philosophers have put mirrors up to our faces. And we look away to go to the concession stand for popcorn to feed the monkeys.

The most dangerous animals in the world are running out of time.

Stay safe, get vaxxed and pray for those cruelly afflicted by the cruelly small minds on this small planet, especially victims of our perpetual wars.

Be well. Raise hell. / Esté bien. Haga infierno.

Andrew Quarantino Barbáno is a 54-year Nevadan and editor of NevadaLabor.com/ Barbwire by Barbano has originated in the Tribune since 1988. E-mail barbano@frontpage.reno.nv.us Opening lyrics from “Life in a Northern Town” by Gilbert Gabriel and Nick Laird-Lowes, Dream Academy, 1985.