The sports world erupted Sunday with legitimate anguish about the death of a renowned sports figure. Kobe Bryant, an 18-time NBA All-Star and winner of five NBA championships, had been killed in a helicopter crash. His 13-year-old daughter also died. So did seven others who, not surprisingly, were unnamed in initial news coverage.
In the aftermath, the word "legacy" has been used in nearly all media reports.
These were nine human beings. All presumably had families. All likely had an impact on others. But none had the fame of the mega basketball star. One wonders about how, and for how long, each of these folks whose lives suddenly ended will be remembered? And by whom? Perhaps most important, what the legacy of each will be?
In the January issue of Mpls-St. Paul Magazine, the feature article was about Minnesota native Garrison Keillor, who had fallen from the lofty heights of having a nationally broadcast public radio show and of being a prolific author to being the subject of debate about alleged transgressions with female employees. The same questions about legacy certainly are appropriate when considering Keillor. In the article, Keillor laments that an author he revered in his youth is barely known today even by people who read. The legacy obviously faded. As a quote from Keillor on the magazine cover explains, "We are all temporary and we all go on and we're forgotten."
The principle, which is broadly accurate, seems to be that all of us, regardless of current importance or notoriety, have a maximum of a 50-year personal legacy — a legacy associated with our names.
So, think ahead 50 years. Who will know of Bryant and Keillor? Who will recall them with any specific understanding of what they did when they walked among us? Honestly, few will know much about these two wildly popular and recognized persons who lived in 2020. Only a few athletes or avid readers (or people who recall nostalgically the magic of live radio programing) will be able to say much about these two.
What does the fact of a fading legacy say about the rest of us mere mortals? Do we even leave a legacy? Should we even care? Will the passage of 50 years erase our footprints?
The fact that very few historic figures can even be remembered without the aid of Google is worthy of pausing to think about what we do and who we influence. What is our legacy?