britt dionne

abraham lincoln was an excellent babysitter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know this because, as a baby, he watched over my crib day and night. And by “watched” I mean “hung.” And by “he” I mean “his most famous speech.” Lincoln’s presence during my first years was, in fact, so constant that if my first two words were “mama” and “dada” the next six were surely “Four score and seven years ago.” But I suppose that’s what happens when you hang Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address over a child’s crib. So while my baby compatriots were engrossed with seeing Jane run, I was steeping in the rhetoric of one of history’s greatest speechwriters.

 

Perhaps that’s why my passion for words and communication has a DNA-like quality to it. Over many decades, my enthusiasm has only grown, finding its truest expression through my 18-year career in communications and writing.

 

My philosophy is simple: sound like a human and put some soul into it. That can be hard for people and organizations to do, I know. But if I learned anything from good old Abe, it’s that a powerful, thoughtful message deserves words that are its equal.

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