Abraham Lincoln and Frederick Douglass are American icons, but they were also humans, and it is in their humanity that we can feel the tension and sympathy in their meetings. Preparing for this play, I gave a lot of thought to what the common denominator in their human experience might have been. Civil War? Yes. Ending slavery? Yes. Humble roots? Yes. More than 6 feet tall? Yes. Lots of facial hair? Yes.

More seriously, though, these two men were heroes because they came independently to a deeply heartfelt belief in the potential for peace among all people. In spite of the fact that they both were subjected to monstrous brutalities as boys—physical, emotional, psychic violence that would have bludgeoned hope from most of us—they envisioned ways to take personal action that would lead to positive change. Once free, Douglass could have chosen to live his life out of public scrutiny. No one would have blamed him for that … in fact, that is what most who escaped from slavery did. Lincoln could have stayed in Illinois as a local folk hero and built his law practice. But they both chose action because they saw themselves as members of a larger constituency, of broader communities, and dared to step out of the shadows. I don’t think this was done for egotistical purposes. Rather it was the sacrifice of ego, sacrifice of personal control over their lives in exchange for the choice to live for others, for people outside their personal familial spheres. Yes, they may have had different immediate goals, but they were joined in the effort to make a peace for their young country that would encompass all and discomfit as few as possible.

What we see in this play is how they came to find that common vision in each other. They perceived and valued in each other a shared belief in the potential of human beings to be generous of spirit in spite of profound differences. It’s a radical concept to a world that sometimes still seems to be built on superficial economic goals. Espousing such ideas was (and is) enough to get you shot (see MLK and RFK for more on this). We know this about Lincoln. But most Americans don’t know this about Douglass. Most don’t know anything about Douglass. This is why we are here: to tell a composite story of two men, fierce in their philosophies and steadfast in their love of humanity.

We know who won the Civil War. We know about its aftermath, the lingering effects of racism and regional differences.

But the story we still need to tell is how these two visionaries—fathers, husbands, ordinary human beings—sacrificed their private lives on our behalf, not for personal gain but for—dare I say it—the greater good. As a person who loves to remain relatively out of the public eye, I cherish them both for this example.

The story I am proud to tell is how two men, damaged, frustrated and determined, found something to respect and care for in each other.

The rest is history.