The Tragic Irony of James Garfield’s Assassination: Why This Forgotten Story Resonates Today
There’s something eerily captivating about the assassination of James Garfield, the 20th President of the United States. It’s a story that, until recently, lingered in the shadows of history, overshadowed by more famous tragedies like Lincoln’s murder. But when Mike Makowsky stumbled upon Candice Millard’s Destiny of the Republic, he didn’t just find a forgotten tale—he uncovered a narrative so rich in irony, tragedy, and human complexity that it felt almost Shakespearean. And that’s exactly what he turned it into with Death by Lightning, a miniseries that breathes new life into a story most of us had never heard.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Garfield’s assassination wasn’t just a political event; it was a collision of two wildly divergent American lives. On one side, you had Garfield, a man who seemed to ascend to the presidency almost by accident, a reluctant leader thrust into power. On the other, Charles Guiteau, a delusional figure who desperately craved greatness but failed at every turn. Personally, I think this contrast is what gives the story its timeless quality. It’s not just about a president’s death; it’s about the duality of ambition, the thin line between success and madness, and the ways in which fate can be both cruel and absurd.
One thing that immediately stands out is Garfield’s infamous quote about assassination being no more preventable than ‘death by lightning.’ If you take a step back and think about it, this statement is both tragically ironic and deeply revealing. Here’s a man who, statistically speaking, had a higher chance of being assassinated than struck by lightning, yet he dismissed the threat with a shrug. What this really suggests is a kind of fatalistic acceptance, a belief that some things are simply beyond human control. But it also raises a deeper question: Could Garfield’s assassination have been prevented if he—or those around him—had taken the threat more seriously?
From my perspective, this is where the story becomes more than just a historical footnote. It’s a cautionary tale about complacency, about the dangers of underestimating the fragility of leadership and the unpredictability of human behavior. What many people don’t realize is that Garfield’s assassination wasn’t just a random act of violence; it was the culmination of Guiteau’s twisted sense of entitlement and his belief that killing the president would somehow elevate him to greatness. This dynamic feels eerily relevant in today’s polarized political climate, where extremism and delusion often intersect with devastating consequences.
Makowsky’s adaptation of Destiny of the Republic into Death by Lightning is a masterclass in balancing historical accuracy with creative interpretation. Personally, I think his decision to inject humor and a ‘contemporary weird’ tone into the series was a stroke of genius. It’s not just about making the story accessible; it’s about highlighting the absurdity of the situation. Garfield’s assassination was, in many ways, a tragicomedy—a series of missteps, misunderstandings, and sheer incompetence that ultimately led to his death. By leaning into this absurdity, Makowsky doesn’t just entertain; he invites us to reflect on the chaos that often underlies historical events.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the title itself, Death by Lightning. It’s a nod to Garfield’s fatalistic quote, but it also serves as a metaphor for the unpredictability of life. Assassination, like lightning, strikes without warning, leaving behind a trail of destruction and questions that may never be fully answered. This metaphor resonates beyond Garfield’s story; it speaks to the randomness of fate and the ways in which our lives can be upended by forces beyond our control.
If you’re like me, you probably didn’t know much about James Garfield before this series. And that’s part of what makes Death by Lightning so compelling—it takes a forgotten chapter of history and transforms it into a story that feels urgent and relevant. It’s a reminder that even the most obscure events can hold profound lessons, if we’re willing to look closely enough.
In the end, what stays with me is the tragic irony of it all. Garfield, a man who believed assassination was as inevitable as lightning, fell victim to exactly that. Guiteau, a man who sought greatness, achieved only infamy. And we, the audience, are left to grapple with the questions their story raises: about leadership, ambition, and the fragility of life. Personally, I think that’s what makes this story so enduring—it’s not just about the past; it’s about the human condition, and the ways in which history continues to echo in our present.
