I finally watched the critically praised Netflex series “Death By Lightning” last night. Friends, knowing my obsession with Presidential history, had urged me to watch it. I had hesitated because I dreaded exactly what I witnessed last night. The limited series, based on Candice Millard’s best-selling history “Destiny of the Republic,” managed to both make me angry and break my heart.

Putting on my director’s hat and my film critic hat (kind of like Chester A. Arthur in the series wearing three hats on top of another during a drunken spree—one of many made-up scenes that completely misrepresented our 21st President), I’ll grant that the series was entertaining—especially so if one knows nothing about the events it alleges to portray—and well-acted by a strong cast. I also give it credit for portraying relatively accurately one of my favorite moments in U.S. political history. James Garfield, a brilliant but obscure Ohio Representative, was asked to deliver the Presidential nomination speech for fellow Ohioan Senator John Sherman, General Sherman’s brother, at the 1880 GOP National Convention. Garfield’s speech was so passionate, eloquent and inspiring that when he concluded, “therefore, I nominate the next President of the United States…” a couple of delegates shouted out, “Garfield!” before he could get out “John Sherman of Ohio!” Garfield was stunned, and as the convention descended into a deadlock, objected strenuously while over 35 ballots, rogue delegates began consolidating their support behind him until finally, on the 36th ballot, he was nominated against his will.

That does not, however, make up for the series’ worst omission and distortion of history.

I have posted several times here the remarkable, uplifting, ethically-enlightening story of Julia Sand, most recently on this past Presidents Day. She was the crippled spinster who wrote private letters to Vice-President Chester A. Arthur, then hiding in seclusion as President Garfield was being butchered by his doctors after being shot by lunatic Charles Guiteau. Her letters told Arthur that he could not only do the looming job he felt unfit for, but also that he had the inner resources to do it well.

She told the terrified political hack that he could muster the courage and character to do what so many other great figures in history have done when fate thrust them into a position where they were challenged to rise above their previous conduct and priorities. Arthur did in fact meet that challenge when President Garfield died, earning recognition as the “accidental” President who most surpassed public expectations.

I love the story, and I regard Julia Sand as the perfect example of how seemingly powerless, ordinary people can make a difference in our society, government and culture. Maybe she is the best example. Few could be more irrelevant to national affairs in the 1880s than an unmarried, middle-aged woman confined to a wheelchair. Yet Julia Sand probably changed history with her wit, commons sense, writing ability, wisdom and audacity. As an ethicist, I saw the story of Sand and Arthur, which I had never had encountered even in Arthur’s biography, the most important event related in “Destiny of the Republic.”

Yet “Death by Lightning” not only cut Julia out of the story, it gave her words to the dying Garfield and his wife, neither of whom spoke to Chester A. Arthur after Garfield was shot. I can only describe the snub as cruel. Here, at last, was the opportunity to let the public know about the amazing Julia Sand, and instead “Death by Lightning” uses her story to enhance the character of Garfield’s wife, Lucretia.

Lucretia was one of our most literate and influential First Ladies and deserves attention, but not at the cost of erasing Julia Sand.