Saturday, February 28, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
The Decision Maker--The Finale
And now I bring you the conclusion to this fascinating story. To date, Mr. Isaac Jacobs has taken a group of bankers and patrons hostage in his attempt to capture the men, former Nazis, who were responsible for killing his wife. He retold his story to the mass of humanity tuned in via Fox News, and is now about to execute the men who destroyed his life.
XXXX
“Mr. Jacobs?”
The gun never wavered. “Yes, Mr. Cato, do you have something to say?”
“Well, I reckon that these two fellows are guilty, just like you said. What can I do to save them the death sentence?”
“Why would you want to spare them?”
“Because all of us have sinned. There isn’t any of us that could pick up a stone and cast it at these two. We are all guilty of the same thing.”
“You have murdered, Mr. Cato? I find that highly improbable.”
“Well, the Bible says, ‘Thou shalt not commit murder,’ but Jesus said that if we hate anyone that we have committed murder in our hearts. I’ll bet that every person in this room has hated someone at some point in their lives, right?” He turned to the crowd, who sat dumbfounded. “What about you, Rose? Who have you hated?”
She spoke deliberately. “The father of my baby.”
“What about you, Miss Kincaid?”
“Well, I hate all men.”
“Fair enough.”
“What about you, Mr. Cato?” Rose asked.
“I spent most of my time hating God.”
Isaac turned around, clearly surprised. “God? I thought you said you were at peace with God.”
“I am now. There was a time in my past that I hated God. A few years ago, I was a fifth generation rancher, right here in Texas. My family had owned the Cato Cattle Company, the 3C Ranch, every since Texas has been a state. They fought Indians and Mexicans to maintain it. Then they fought West Texas weather. My family’s blood and sweat bought and maintained that country. But a few years ago, when the droughts started, I lost everything. I lost my children’s inheritance and I lost the family legacy. I prayed everyday that God would intervene, but He didn’t. I believed in Him up to the day they served me with the foreclosure papers. What I didn’t know was that God was allowing a work of redemption to take place in my heart. You see, I just thought I was a Christian because I went to the Baptist church, but that wasn’t enough. Just like sitting in a garage doesn’t make you a car. I had to find myself at the bottom to find redemption. I had nowhere else to go expect to God.”
“I assume that you have a point, Mr. Cato.”
“Well, sir. It seems to me that we have all committed murder in God’s sight. We are all guilty of breaking His law. We all deserve death, including you, Isaac.”
“That may be, Mr. Cato, but I have lived my entire life expecting to kill these two gentlemen, and I fully intend to do so. Someone will die today.”
“Then I will take their place, just like Jesus took my place. Don’t you see? Jesus made it possible for us to be saved, because He paid the ultimate price for our freedom. I don’t know why God allowed the holocaust to happen. I just know that God was there. Sometimes He doesn’t make sense. Our ways aren’t His ways and our thoughts aren’t His thoughts. I can’t explain why bad things like wars and ethnic cleansing take place, except that we are all sinners, but I can tell you that God will forgive us of our sins. Even the Blitz Brothers. You included, Mr. Jacobs.”
“Oh, it’s much too late for me, Mr. Cato.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sir. But it will be too late when you die of cancer. You are no better than those two murderers. You have committed the same crime. The only difference is that their crime hurt more people than yours. You are just as guilty as they are. And all of you need God’s forgiveness, just as I did.”
Isaac considered his words for a moment. Was it possible? He had given up on God so many years before, could it be that God hadn’t given up on him? There was so much hatred spilling its venom deep into his soul. Not only had he hated the Germans, he had also hated God, whom he held responsible for the murder of so many devout Jews. “Mr. Cato, where was God during the holocaust? Why did He abandon us to death and destruction?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a theologian. What I do know is this, God was there. It’s hard to imagine, but it is true. It was bad enough as it was, can you imagine what it would have been like without Him? The holocaust wasn’t the first time that the Jews were persecuted. Remember what happened with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego? They also were burned alive, just not by the Nazis, but by a different regime, the Babylonians. Those three might have lived through it, but how many of their brethren were slaughtered by the Babylonians? What about the Egyptians? They also enslaved the Jews for their own selfish purposes. But God was there for them. I don’t have an answer for you, except that God will never leave you nor forsake you.”
“You make a most persuasive argument, Mr. Cato. Yet, I am not willing that these men should go free. What do you propose?”
“If they are guilty, then I don’t want them to go free either. If they are guilty, then they must stand and give an account of their lives. Even when we ask God for forgiveness, there are still consequences for our actions. Allow the law to bring these men to justice. Isaac, one day soon you will die, then you will face the Throne of Judgment. I am more concerned that when you are brought to justice before God, that you are found innocent. The only way to do that is to repent of your sins and trust in the blood of Jesus and allow Him to forgive you.”
Silence encompassed the group, each of whom sat with their heads bowed deep in thought. The camera continued to record, but the reporter could not bring himself to break the silence. Isaac appeared to be struggling within himself, fighting for control. Yet, Cato’s words had burned deep within his heart, ripping the calluses off his seared conscience. For so many years, one desire consumed him – kill. Cato’s words rang true, vibrating through every tissue, into the core of his being.
Adolph Blitz sighed deeply and almost slumped to the floor, then righted himself and spoke softly. “I’m glad its over.”
David spoke harshly in his native tongue, but Adolph ignored his warning. “No, David, its over. I’m very tired of the nightmares. I want them to end. I’m tired of running.” He looked at Isaac, who still lorded over them, pistol drawn. “Mr. Jacobs, my apology is pitiful compared to my sins, but I still offer it. I was the one who held your wife that night. David shot her. Up to that point, I had not killed or seen anyone killed. But I realized that I was now a part of…. Somehow, I thought that I was serving God. But… I was wrong. I allowed anonymity to conceal my desire to be important, but it only created more thirst for power. Everyday, I remember my actions and everyday I wish to be forgiven. If only it was possible. Please kill me; I don’t deserve to live. That is all I have to say.”
Cato stood and walked over to Isaac. “Mr. Jacobs? It’s over. No one is going to die today.” He reached for the gun and carefully removed it from Issac’s non-responsive fingers. “Let the court decide their fate. After all, you still have to stand before God in judgment. I think you have enough to consider with your own guilt without playing Judge also.”
Isaac’s hands trembled as the hatred began to melt within him. He nodded at Cato, then, suddenly old, sat carefully in a chair and waited for the police to end his hostage situation.
The reporter kneeled beside him. “Isaac? I promise that I will tell your story. I will be a voice for you; I will find a way to help you.”
Isaac smiled gratefully. “Thank you, but my life is over soon enough. For the first time, I now have to worry about my future.”
The End
XXXX
“Mr. Jacobs?”
The gun never wavered. “Yes, Mr. Cato, do you have something to say?”
“Well, I reckon that these two fellows are guilty, just like you said. What can I do to save them the death sentence?”
“Why would you want to spare them?”
“Because all of us have sinned. There isn’t any of us that could pick up a stone and cast it at these two. We are all guilty of the same thing.”
“You have murdered, Mr. Cato? I find that highly improbable.”
“Well, the Bible says, ‘Thou shalt not commit murder,’ but Jesus said that if we hate anyone that we have committed murder in our hearts. I’ll bet that every person in this room has hated someone at some point in their lives, right?” He turned to the crowd, who sat dumbfounded. “What about you, Rose? Who have you hated?”
She spoke deliberately. “The father of my baby.”
“What about you, Miss Kincaid?”
“Well, I hate all men.”
“Fair enough.”
“What about you, Mr. Cato?” Rose asked.
“I spent most of my time hating God.”
Isaac turned around, clearly surprised. “God? I thought you said you were at peace with God.”
“I am now. There was a time in my past that I hated God. A few years ago, I was a fifth generation rancher, right here in Texas. My family had owned the Cato Cattle Company, the 3C Ranch, every since Texas has been a state. They fought Indians and Mexicans to maintain it. Then they fought West Texas weather. My family’s blood and sweat bought and maintained that country. But a few years ago, when the droughts started, I lost everything. I lost my children’s inheritance and I lost the family legacy. I prayed everyday that God would intervene, but He didn’t. I believed in Him up to the day they served me with the foreclosure papers. What I didn’t know was that God was allowing a work of redemption to take place in my heart. You see, I just thought I was a Christian because I went to the Baptist church, but that wasn’t enough. Just like sitting in a garage doesn’t make you a car. I had to find myself at the bottom to find redemption. I had nowhere else to go expect to God.”
“I assume that you have a point, Mr. Cato.”
“Well, sir. It seems to me that we have all committed murder in God’s sight. We are all guilty of breaking His law. We all deserve death, including you, Isaac.”
“That may be, Mr. Cato, but I have lived my entire life expecting to kill these two gentlemen, and I fully intend to do so. Someone will die today.”
“Then I will take their place, just like Jesus took my place. Don’t you see? Jesus made it possible for us to be saved, because He paid the ultimate price for our freedom. I don’t know why God allowed the holocaust to happen. I just know that God was there. Sometimes He doesn’t make sense. Our ways aren’t His ways and our thoughts aren’t His thoughts. I can’t explain why bad things like wars and ethnic cleansing take place, except that we are all sinners, but I can tell you that God will forgive us of our sins. Even the Blitz Brothers. You included, Mr. Jacobs.”
“Oh, it’s much too late for me, Mr. Cato.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sir. But it will be too late when you die of cancer. You are no better than those two murderers. You have committed the same crime. The only difference is that their crime hurt more people than yours. You are just as guilty as they are. And all of you need God’s forgiveness, just as I did.”
Isaac considered his words for a moment. Was it possible? He had given up on God so many years before, could it be that God hadn’t given up on him? There was so much hatred spilling its venom deep into his soul. Not only had he hated the Germans, he had also hated God, whom he held responsible for the murder of so many devout Jews. “Mr. Cato, where was God during the holocaust? Why did He abandon us to death and destruction?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a theologian. What I do know is this, God was there. It’s hard to imagine, but it is true. It was bad enough as it was, can you imagine what it would have been like without Him? The holocaust wasn’t the first time that the Jews were persecuted. Remember what happened with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego? They also were burned alive, just not by the Nazis, but by a different regime, the Babylonians. Those three might have lived through it, but how many of their brethren were slaughtered by the Babylonians? What about the Egyptians? They also enslaved the Jews for their own selfish purposes. But God was there for them. I don’t have an answer for you, except that God will never leave you nor forsake you.”
“You make a most persuasive argument, Mr. Cato. Yet, I am not willing that these men should go free. What do you propose?”
“If they are guilty, then I don’t want them to go free either. If they are guilty, then they must stand and give an account of their lives. Even when we ask God for forgiveness, there are still consequences for our actions. Allow the law to bring these men to justice. Isaac, one day soon you will die, then you will face the Throne of Judgment. I am more concerned that when you are brought to justice before God, that you are found innocent. The only way to do that is to repent of your sins and trust in the blood of Jesus and allow Him to forgive you.”
Silence encompassed the group, each of whom sat with their heads bowed deep in thought. The camera continued to record, but the reporter could not bring himself to break the silence. Isaac appeared to be struggling within himself, fighting for control. Yet, Cato’s words had burned deep within his heart, ripping the calluses off his seared conscience. For so many years, one desire consumed him – kill. Cato’s words rang true, vibrating through every tissue, into the core of his being.
Adolph Blitz sighed deeply and almost slumped to the floor, then righted himself and spoke softly. “I’m glad its over.”
David spoke harshly in his native tongue, but Adolph ignored his warning. “No, David, its over. I’m very tired of the nightmares. I want them to end. I’m tired of running.” He looked at Isaac, who still lorded over them, pistol drawn. “Mr. Jacobs, my apology is pitiful compared to my sins, but I still offer it. I was the one who held your wife that night. David shot her. Up to that point, I had not killed or seen anyone killed. But I realized that I was now a part of…. Somehow, I thought that I was serving God. But… I was wrong. I allowed anonymity to conceal my desire to be important, but it only created more thirst for power. Everyday, I remember my actions and everyday I wish to be forgiven. If only it was possible. Please kill me; I don’t deserve to live. That is all I have to say.”
Cato stood and walked over to Isaac. “Mr. Jacobs? It’s over. No one is going to die today.” He reached for the gun and carefully removed it from Issac’s non-responsive fingers. “Let the court decide their fate. After all, you still have to stand before God in judgment. I think you have enough to consider with your own guilt without playing Judge also.”
Isaac’s hands trembled as the hatred began to melt within him. He nodded at Cato, then, suddenly old, sat carefully in a chair and waited for the police to end his hostage situation.
The reporter kneeled beside him. “Isaac? I promise that I will tell your story. I will be a voice for you; I will find a way to help you.”
Isaac smiled gratefully. “Thank you, but my life is over soon enough. For the first time, I now have to worry about my future.”
The End
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Decision Maker Part III
In the previous chapter, Isaac Jacobs was explaining to the world how his life was affected by the Nazis during the years of the communistic ethnic cleansings in Germany. We don’t yet know why Isaac is holding the crowd hostage, but we are about to discover why. Rose has asked for permission to visit the lady’s room, and is there now with Miss Kincaid.
XXX
Rose and Miss Kincaid were washing their hands and preparing to return to the foreboding lobby. As they dried their hands, they both were dreading to leave their sanctuary. “So, how far along are you?”
Rose looked up at the ceiling and tears welled in her eyes. “I am six months along.” Her voice faltered as she spoke.
“Oh dear, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”
“It’s just that, well… I don’t know what to do.” Rose held tissue to her face. “Miss, Kincaid, I…” she stopped speaking and began crying openly.
“Please, call me Marsha. What is it Rose? Is there something wrong with the baby?”
“No, its just that, well, I was raped six months ago. Every single day I think about the baby. Every day I think about, well, I think about…”
Marsha nodded sincerely. “You think about having an abortion, don’t you?”
Rose nodded and started crying again. “Well, you certainly have the right to do so. It is your body and your choice.”
Rose exhaled slowly. “But is it really? My choice?”
“Oh dear, of course it is. Women have suffered and sacrificed all over the world to ensure that you have the freedom to choose.”
“Have you ever?”
“Ever had an abortion?” Marsha stopped a moment and considered her answer. She paused for several seconds before answering her in a subdued voice. “I was fifteen. I was from a small town and it still wasn’t acceptable for unwed mothers to have babies. I was scared and I made a decision.”
“What about your boyfriend?”
“He never knew. I never told him. In fact, I never told anyone, until now.”
“But what if your boyfriend had wanted to keep the baby?”
“It wasn’t his choice, it was mine.”
“But, it was his baby also.”
Marsha shook her head. “No, that’s not right. He wasn’t the one who had to carry it around with him all day. It was my choice alone.”
“But he was the baby’s father.”
“Look, Rose, its not a baby until its born. Until then its only a…”
“Lump of tissue?”
“Yes!”
“Well, this lump of tissue is moving around and has a heart beat. How do I harden my heart enough to follow through with what I want to do?”
“You just remember the women who suffered and sacrificed to give you the choice.”
“And that was enough for you? You never thought about your baby again?”
Marsha hesitated. “Well, I thought about her. I mean, once in a while. But not much.”
“She was a girl?”
Marsha’s face was stone, and she spoke too quickly. “It was tissue. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have killed…” She fell to the floor and sobbed. “Oh my God! I killed my baby!” Rose gathered around her as she mourned the life that never was. After a few minutes, Marsha sat up and leaned into Rose. “I was always reminding myself that I was a strong woman and that I didn’t need anyone or anything. However, at night, I would hear a baby crying, in my dreams that is. I would see a new mother holding her child, smiling and playing. Now it is too late for me.”
Rose shook her head. “No, Marsha, you are still young enough to try again.”
Marsha bowed her head in shame. “No, I can’t. The abortion left me unable to carry a baby. I can’t ever make up for my mistake.”
“Oh, Marsha, I am so sorry.” Together the women cried for a moment. “It was Isaac. He loved his children so much and he was so sorry that his kids were killed. I had decided to go to the clinic today. That is why I was here. I was making a withdraw to pay for the abortion. But he said that only a monster would kill a baby and never give it a chance to live, only for convenience. How selfish would I be to kill my baby just because I didn’t want it?”
Marsha stood up and stretched out her dress. “Well, Rose. You have a chance to make up for the wrong choice I made.” She helped Rose brush off her sweater. “Isaac made a very strong argument, didn’t he?” They walked back to their seats in the lobby and everyone wondered at their red, swollen eyes.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Isaac paused his presentation while the women were absent. “Are you ready to continue, Rose?” She nodded yes and the reporter stopped filling in for the down time and prepared to listen. “The day my wife and daughter were killed changed my life forever. I swore an oath to my God that I would find their murderers and bring them to justice. I have to admit, I didn’t hold myself to my oath, because I came to realize that my God never existed. What kind of God would allow the holocaust to occur? Nevertheless, I am committed to stay my course. After many decades of searching, I have finally found my wife’s killers.” He pointed over at the Heinz brothers who were still kneeling on the floor.
Chief Gray pulled off his gag and asked. “Is that true? How can you be certain?”
Isaac nodded. “Finally, you say something that matters.” He walked over to the two old men. “The two killers had a special mark on their shoulders, a tattoo. Not just any tattoo, but the tattoo of the Nazi storm troopers, complete with swastika.” He pulled a knife from his boot and held the knife menacingly at them. Rose gasped as he grabbed their shirts and cut them from their bodies, exposing their backs. Each of them bore the tattoo of the Nazi storm troopers. The cameraman leaned forward and zoomed in on them.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the two of the three killers of my wife and daughter. One of them held their arms while another shot them. The Blitz Brothers.”
“But they are the Heinz brothers.” Chief Gray interjected.
“When they fled Europe after the Allies destroyed the 3rd Reich, they changed their names and started over. All along, you never knew that there were killers in your midst.”
Cato held up a hand. “You said that there were three. Who is the third?”
Isaac waved a dismissing hand at him. “Don’t concern yourself with that. I found the three of them hiding in Argentina, amongst all the Jewish refugees, trying to blend in with the very people they so hated. When I finally tracked them down, I found Ruben at Pan de Azucar, a small mountain village near Cordoba. After I presented my evidence to the village, they hung him in the tree on the square. That was in ten years ago. David and Adolph fled to the United States and have been in hiding until today.” He turned his attention to the chief. “I understand that you are friends with these killers?” Chief Gray swallowed hard, but couldn’t find an answer. “Don’t worry, Hans Goldbaum, I am not looking for you today.”
“Hans Goldbaum? Who is that?”
Isaac turned to face the question. “Miss Kincaid, that is the real name of Chief Gray. He changed his name when he came to the United States. He was only a boy, but he aided the Germans by trading them information for food and lodging. He was one of the Jews who betrayed my family and our hiding place.”
Chief Gray had nothing to say. His face was ashen and for once, he was unable to speak. He was acutely aware that the TV camera was focused on him.
Cato spoke again, breaking the awkward silence. “So, what do you intend to do?”
“Oh, I intend to bring them to justice. They will meet with the death penalty today.” He walked over to the brothers and held up his pistol. “Do you have any last words?”
The Germans spoke to each other in Spanish and then spoke back to him in German. Issac nodded. “Ah, so you choose to remain the swine you are. Very well, have it your way.” He pointed the gun at David’s head.
To Be Continued...
XXX
Rose and Miss Kincaid were washing their hands and preparing to return to the foreboding lobby. As they dried their hands, they both were dreading to leave their sanctuary. “So, how far along are you?”
Rose looked up at the ceiling and tears welled in her eyes. “I am six months along.” Her voice faltered as she spoke.
“Oh dear, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”
“It’s just that, well… I don’t know what to do.” Rose held tissue to her face. “Miss, Kincaid, I…” she stopped speaking and began crying openly.
“Please, call me Marsha. What is it Rose? Is there something wrong with the baby?”
“No, its just that, well, I was raped six months ago. Every single day I think about the baby. Every day I think about, well, I think about…”
Marsha nodded sincerely. “You think about having an abortion, don’t you?”
Rose nodded and started crying again. “Well, you certainly have the right to do so. It is your body and your choice.”
Rose exhaled slowly. “But is it really? My choice?”
“Oh dear, of course it is. Women have suffered and sacrificed all over the world to ensure that you have the freedom to choose.”
“Have you ever?”
“Ever had an abortion?” Marsha stopped a moment and considered her answer. She paused for several seconds before answering her in a subdued voice. “I was fifteen. I was from a small town and it still wasn’t acceptable for unwed mothers to have babies. I was scared and I made a decision.”
“What about your boyfriend?”
“He never knew. I never told him. In fact, I never told anyone, until now.”
“But what if your boyfriend had wanted to keep the baby?”
“It wasn’t his choice, it was mine.”
“But, it was his baby also.”
Marsha shook her head. “No, that’s not right. He wasn’t the one who had to carry it around with him all day. It was my choice alone.”
“But he was the baby’s father.”
“Look, Rose, its not a baby until its born. Until then its only a…”
“Lump of tissue?”
“Yes!”
“Well, this lump of tissue is moving around and has a heart beat. How do I harden my heart enough to follow through with what I want to do?”
“You just remember the women who suffered and sacrificed to give you the choice.”
“And that was enough for you? You never thought about your baby again?”
Marsha hesitated. “Well, I thought about her. I mean, once in a while. But not much.”
“She was a girl?”
Marsha’s face was stone, and she spoke too quickly. “It was tissue. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have killed…” She fell to the floor and sobbed. “Oh my God! I killed my baby!” Rose gathered around her as she mourned the life that never was. After a few minutes, Marsha sat up and leaned into Rose. “I was always reminding myself that I was a strong woman and that I didn’t need anyone or anything. However, at night, I would hear a baby crying, in my dreams that is. I would see a new mother holding her child, smiling and playing. Now it is too late for me.”
Rose shook her head. “No, Marsha, you are still young enough to try again.”
Marsha bowed her head in shame. “No, I can’t. The abortion left me unable to carry a baby. I can’t ever make up for my mistake.”
“Oh, Marsha, I am so sorry.” Together the women cried for a moment. “It was Isaac. He loved his children so much and he was so sorry that his kids were killed. I had decided to go to the clinic today. That is why I was here. I was making a withdraw to pay for the abortion. But he said that only a monster would kill a baby and never give it a chance to live, only for convenience. How selfish would I be to kill my baby just because I didn’t want it?”
Marsha stood up and stretched out her dress. “Well, Rose. You have a chance to make up for the wrong choice I made.” She helped Rose brush off her sweater. “Isaac made a very strong argument, didn’t he?” They walked back to their seats in the lobby and everyone wondered at their red, swollen eyes.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Isaac paused his presentation while the women were absent. “Are you ready to continue, Rose?” She nodded yes and the reporter stopped filling in for the down time and prepared to listen. “The day my wife and daughter were killed changed my life forever. I swore an oath to my God that I would find their murderers and bring them to justice. I have to admit, I didn’t hold myself to my oath, because I came to realize that my God never existed. What kind of God would allow the holocaust to occur? Nevertheless, I am committed to stay my course. After many decades of searching, I have finally found my wife’s killers.” He pointed over at the Heinz brothers who were still kneeling on the floor.
Chief Gray pulled off his gag and asked. “Is that true? How can you be certain?”
Isaac nodded. “Finally, you say something that matters.” He walked over to the two old men. “The two killers had a special mark on their shoulders, a tattoo. Not just any tattoo, but the tattoo of the Nazi storm troopers, complete with swastika.” He pulled a knife from his boot and held the knife menacingly at them. Rose gasped as he grabbed their shirts and cut them from their bodies, exposing their backs. Each of them bore the tattoo of the Nazi storm troopers. The cameraman leaned forward and zoomed in on them.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the two of the three killers of my wife and daughter. One of them held their arms while another shot them. The Blitz Brothers.”
“But they are the Heinz brothers.” Chief Gray interjected.
“When they fled Europe after the Allies destroyed the 3rd Reich, they changed their names and started over. All along, you never knew that there were killers in your midst.”
Cato held up a hand. “You said that there were three. Who is the third?”
Isaac waved a dismissing hand at him. “Don’t concern yourself with that. I found the three of them hiding in Argentina, amongst all the Jewish refugees, trying to blend in with the very people they so hated. When I finally tracked them down, I found Ruben at Pan de Azucar, a small mountain village near Cordoba. After I presented my evidence to the village, they hung him in the tree on the square. That was in ten years ago. David and Adolph fled to the United States and have been in hiding until today.” He turned his attention to the chief. “I understand that you are friends with these killers?” Chief Gray swallowed hard, but couldn’t find an answer. “Don’t worry, Hans Goldbaum, I am not looking for you today.”
“Hans Goldbaum? Who is that?”
Isaac turned to face the question. “Miss Kincaid, that is the real name of Chief Gray. He changed his name when he came to the United States. He was only a boy, but he aided the Germans by trading them information for food and lodging. He was one of the Jews who betrayed my family and our hiding place.”
Chief Gray had nothing to say. His face was ashen and for once, he was unable to speak. He was acutely aware that the TV camera was focused on him.
Cato spoke again, breaking the awkward silence. “So, what do you intend to do?”
“Oh, I intend to bring them to justice. They will meet with the death penalty today.” He walked over to the brothers and held up his pistol. “Do you have any last words?”
The Germans spoke to each other in Spanish and then spoke back to him in German. Issac nodded. “Ah, so you choose to remain the swine you are. Very well, have it your way.” He pointed the gun at David’s head.
To Be Continued...
Friday, February 20, 2009
The Decision Maker Part II
When last we visited this incident, Isaac Jacobs, an elderly gunman has taken the individuals in a downtown bank hostage. We haven’t discovered what motivates him to carry out such an act, except for one small fact: one hostage will die. Mr. Jacobs had stripped two elderly men down to their “whites” and was inspecting their tattoos while they knelt on the floor. We are now negotiating the terms of the first hostage exchange.
XXXX
He left them kneeling and picked up the phone, dialing Chief Gray. “This is Isaac Jacobs. Here is our situation; I want you to allow one representative of the various media groups to accompany you or your designated officer. If possible, please select a representative from Fox News, as they are the most reputable of those that are available. I might not be a conservative, but I respect integrity in reporting. I want them ready to record our negotiations and document everything that happens. In exchange, I will release half of my hostages. If you or anyone enters this bank with a weapon, I will randomly kill a hostage and the person holding the weapon…. Yes, I will release them as your party approaches the entryway.”
True to his word, Isaac released eleven hostages as the entourage approached the bank. As they exited the building, Chief Gray excitedly motioned for them to run to safety, as if the hostages had no clue what they were supposed to do. The chief stared musingly at the security guard running past him. His pistol had been replaced into his holster. After determining that the former hostages where safe, Chief Gray resumed his march to meet with Isaac Jacobs. When he entered the lobby, he was shocked to see his life long friends, David and Adolph Heinz, nearly naked and kneeling on the floor.
“Please come in, my name is Isaac Jacobs, and these are my hostages. I assume that you are Chief Gray.” He smiled warmly at them and motioned them to stand along the wall with the other hostages. “You gentlemen may set up your equipment over there. Mr. Cato, would you please find some chairs for the rest of our guests?” He watched carefully as Mr. Cato collected chairs from the lobby.
While watching Cato moving the chairs, Chief Gray spoke. “Mr. Jacobs, you have placed us all in a very irregular situation…”
“Chief, please!” Isaac interrupted, exasperation etched on his words. “If you would wait for a moment, I will explain everything once we are all settled.” They waited until everyone was seated, except for Isaac, who paced in front of them as if contemplating his next move. As soon as the news crew was in place, Isaac prepared to continue, but Chief Gray burst out, “Mr. Jacobs, I insist that you surrender immediately. You can’t possibly expect to live through this if you…”
“Chief, please! Are you going to force me to gag you in order for you to maintain your silence?” The hostages glared at the chief in disapproval of his outburst. Isaac had behaved properly and had shown no aggressive tendencies. He had managed to gain their cautious trust for the moment.
He sighed deeply as if troubled to answer the charges put forth by Chief Gray. “For your information, shortly after I committed to my present course of action, I discovered, much to my chagrin, that I have cancer in my lymph nodes. I am afraid that I will die shortly, regardless of our outcome today.
“Now, where was I? Oh yes, at the beginning. What a proper start. I was born in Germany in 1913, shortly before the Great War. My father was killed in action along the Marne River while combating American infantrymen…”
“Surely you can’t hold us personally responsible for actions that took place before the majority of us were born.”
Isaac glanced over at Cato, who nodded and pulled a bandana out of his vest pocket. “Sorry, Chief, but I am afraid that you’re going to get us all killed because you can’t seem to shut up and listen. Now, I don’t intend to tie your hands, but I’m going to gag you. Do us all a favor and listen for a while.” The chief swallowed hard, but submitted to the cowboy. The hostages nodded in approval.
Isaac continued, “No, chief, I do not hold you responsible for my father’s death. My father died protecting his country’s right to be sovereign, however misguided it might have been.” He glanced at the ceiling as he refocused his thoughts. “I married at an early age and had my first child, a girl, in 1930. My wife, Hilda, named her Hydrant. She was the joy of my life and we loved to fly kites together in the park, along with her brothers and sisters. In all, we had five children, Wolfgang, Manfred, William, and Gretchen, in that order. Gretchen was born in 1935, shortly before the 3rd Reich rose to power in Germany.” As he spoke, he glanced over at the Heinz brothers, who were staring at the floor.
“By the time the ethnic cleansings began to take place, it was too late for the Jews to escape to South America, as so many had done in the earlier years. Many of my family members fled Germany just ahead of the Nazis and settled in Argentina, in the mountains near Cordoba. However, I waited, trying to sell my business interests and…” His voice cracked and he wiped a tear from his eyes. “And it cost me everything.”
“Our neighbors, who were Austrians, hid our family for many months, just like the story of Anne Frank. The Nazis conducted a house-to-house search and discovered my family in the basement, hidden among the wines in the cellar. For their efforts at humanity, our neighbors were shot in their own driveway and we were drug away in chains.
“As the storm troopers were dragging my children to a truck waiting nearby, my wife screamed out and grabbed for little Gretchen, who was so…small.” He stopped and blew his nose into a handkerchief. “I’m sorry, some wounds even time can’t heal. Let’s see, where was I? They shot my wife and little Gretchen. My children witnessed their death. Hydrant was so upset that she never spoke again. She would stare into the sky and she refused to eat. Not that they offered to feed her enough to stay alive. She was too small to survive life in the camp; all of them were. After a few months, I…” He stopped and gasped for air, as if he had run a marathon to get here. “I began to pray that God would allow my children to die, so that they might be spared such misery.” He glanced over at the hostages, the women were each clutching tissues. “I was separated from my children, but I could see them across the compound every morning as I reported for work. We could all hear our children as they cried out for us daily. Most of the older girls were to become sex slaves, while the older boys were simply shot or made to work. The younger were used for experiments and as…” his voice drifted and he never finished his thought.
“They made us do meaningless work. We were made to move a mountain of dirt from one side of the compound to the other. The next day, we moved that same pile of dirt to its original site. The next day we repeated the cycle. This went on for months. After a few weeks, Alan Schmidt, an old rabbi, began to cry as he picked up his shovel. He couldn’t stand the de-humanizing task that he was forced to perform daily. He revolted and a guard shot him in the head. A few days latter, several men screamed out and made a mad, hopeless dash for the perimeter fence. They were also gunned down. This went on until the German scientists had observed our reactions enough to try a new experiment.” He stopped talking and looked deep into the camera. “Are you recording?”
The reporter nodded solemnly and replied, “We are live. Every house in America is watching you and listening to your story.”
“Excellent. Allow me to take a moment and reveal that I am working alone; no one is helping me orchestrate this event. Mr. Cato has chosen to help me keep the peace within our prison, but he is acting under my behest. In my custody, along with the chief and our news crew, I have eleven hostages, one of whom is pregnant. She will be released soon enough, along with most of those remaining.” He was silent for a moment as his hopeless eyes revealed that he was reliving a hell from many years past. “I watched my friends die every day. We were shot for eating breakfast. We were shot for not eating breakfast. Nothing could be done to ensure our survival. We were Jews, so they killed us. We were at their mercy.
“Do you remember Schindler’s List? That was a very sad movie for me to watch. I am so glad that those few were spared, but I am sorry that they had to live with the horror that they endured. The movie was accurate, but it was not graphic enough. You couldn’t smell the death that we smelt daily. We had no sanitation. We had no place for garbage. Sometimes, we would watch the scientists performing experiments on the dead before we were allowed to put them in the ovens for burning.
“My children died one by one, slowly starving to death. Those sweet, innocent…” he broke down and wept openly, wailing and mourning with pain unspeakable. “My children never had a chance to live. They were never given a chance to find out who they are. They might have been art lovers, or musicians. They might have been brilliant world leaders. They might have had families all their own and could have held their own children in their arms. Or sing to them as they fell asleep in the evening. Or to make a steaming mug of hot chocolate on a snowy morning…” he stopped to blow his nose. “But they were struck down before they ever had a chance to live. What kind of monster would destroy an innocent life, just for convenience?”
Rose lifted her hand and asked, “Excuse me, Isaac.”
Isaac, who had been speaking as if oblivious to the crowd at hand, seemed to return to the present with her question. “Yes, my dear?”
Rose rubbed her belly apologetically. “I really need to find a bathroom. This little one is keeping me busy.” As she spoke, she rubbed her hand along her belly and seemed to be caressing her baby.
“Of course. Miss Kincaid, could you escort Rose to the lady’s room?”
XXXX
He left them kneeling and picked up the phone, dialing Chief Gray. “This is Isaac Jacobs. Here is our situation; I want you to allow one representative of the various media groups to accompany you or your designated officer. If possible, please select a representative from Fox News, as they are the most reputable of those that are available. I might not be a conservative, but I respect integrity in reporting. I want them ready to record our negotiations and document everything that happens. In exchange, I will release half of my hostages. If you or anyone enters this bank with a weapon, I will randomly kill a hostage and the person holding the weapon…. Yes, I will release them as your party approaches the entryway.”
True to his word, Isaac released eleven hostages as the entourage approached the bank. As they exited the building, Chief Gray excitedly motioned for them to run to safety, as if the hostages had no clue what they were supposed to do. The chief stared musingly at the security guard running past him. His pistol had been replaced into his holster. After determining that the former hostages where safe, Chief Gray resumed his march to meet with Isaac Jacobs. When he entered the lobby, he was shocked to see his life long friends, David and Adolph Heinz, nearly naked and kneeling on the floor.
“Please come in, my name is Isaac Jacobs, and these are my hostages. I assume that you are Chief Gray.” He smiled warmly at them and motioned them to stand along the wall with the other hostages. “You gentlemen may set up your equipment over there. Mr. Cato, would you please find some chairs for the rest of our guests?” He watched carefully as Mr. Cato collected chairs from the lobby.
While watching Cato moving the chairs, Chief Gray spoke. “Mr. Jacobs, you have placed us all in a very irregular situation…”
“Chief, please!” Isaac interrupted, exasperation etched on his words. “If you would wait for a moment, I will explain everything once we are all settled.” They waited until everyone was seated, except for Isaac, who paced in front of them as if contemplating his next move. As soon as the news crew was in place, Isaac prepared to continue, but Chief Gray burst out, “Mr. Jacobs, I insist that you surrender immediately. You can’t possibly expect to live through this if you…”
“Chief, please! Are you going to force me to gag you in order for you to maintain your silence?” The hostages glared at the chief in disapproval of his outburst. Isaac had behaved properly and had shown no aggressive tendencies. He had managed to gain their cautious trust for the moment.
He sighed deeply as if troubled to answer the charges put forth by Chief Gray. “For your information, shortly after I committed to my present course of action, I discovered, much to my chagrin, that I have cancer in my lymph nodes. I am afraid that I will die shortly, regardless of our outcome today.
“Now, where was I? Oh yes, at the beginning. What a proper start. I was born in Germany in 1913, shortly before the Great War. My father was killed in action along the Marne River while combating American infantrymen…”
“Surely you can’t hold us personally responsible for actions that took place before the majority of us were born.”
Isaac glanced over at Cato, who nodded and pulled a bandana out of his vest pocket. “Sorry, Chief, but I am afraid that you’re going to get us all killed because you can’t seem to shut up and listen. Now, I don’t intend to tie your hands, but I’m going to gag you. Do us all a favor and listen for a while.” The chief swallowed hard, but submitted to the cowboy. The hostages nodded in approval.
Isaac continued, “No, chief, I do not hold you responsible for my father’s death. My father died protecting his country’s right to be sovereign, however misguided it might have been.” He glanced at the ceiling as he refocused his thoughts. “I married at an early age and had my first child, a girl, in 1930. My wife, Hilda, named her Hydrant. She was the joy of my life and we loved to fly kites together in the park, along with her brothers and sisters. In all, we had five children, Wolfgang, Manfred, William, and Gretchen, in that order. Gretchen was born in 1935, shortly before the 3rd Reich rose to power in Germany.” As he spoke, he glanced over at the Heinz brothers, who were staring at the floor.
“By the time the ethnic cleansings began to take place, it was too late for the Jews to escape to South America, as so many had done in the earlier years. Many of my family members fled Germany just ahead of the Nazis and settled in Argentina, in the mountains near Cordoba. However, I waited, trying to sell my business interests and…” His voice cracked and he wiped a tear from his eyes. “And it cost me everything.”
“Our neighbors, who were Austrians, hid our family for many months, just like the story of Anne Frank. The Nazis conducted a house-to-house search and discovered my family in the basement, hidden among the wines in the cellar. For their efforts at humanity, our neighbors were shot in their own driveway and we were drug away in chains.
“As the storm troopers were dragging my children to a truck waiting nearby, my wife screamed out and grabbed for little Gretchen, who was so…small.” He stopped and blew his nose into a handkerchief. “I’m sorry, some wounds even time can’t heal. Let’s see, where was I? They shot my wife and little Gretchen. My children witnessed their death. Hydrant was so upset that she never spoke again. She would stare into the sky and she refused to eat. Not that they offered to feed her enough to stay alive. She was too small to survive life in the camp; all of them were. After a few months, I…” He stopped and gasped for air, as if he had run a marathon to get here. “I began to pray that God would allow my children to die, so that they might be spared such misery.” He glanced over at the hostages, the women were each clutching tissues. “I was separated from my children, but I could see them across the compound every morning as I reported for work. We could all hear our children as they cried out for us daily. Most of the older girls were to become sex slaves, while the older boys were simply shot or made to work. The younger were used for experiments and as…” his voice drifted and he never finished his thought.
“They made us do meaningless work. We were made to move a mountain of dirt from one side of the compound to the other. The next day, we moved that same pile of dirt to its original site. The next day we repeated the cycle. This went on for months. After a few weeks, Alan Schmidt, an old rabbi, began to cry as he picked up his shovel. He couldn’t stand the de-humanizing task that he was forced to perform daily. He revolted and a guard shot him in the head. A few days latter, several men screamed out and made a mad, hopeless dash for the perimeter fence. They were also gunned down. This went on until the German scientists had observed our reactions enough to try a new experiment.” He stopped talking and looked deep into the camera. “Are you recording?”
The reporter nodded solemnly and replied, “We are live. Every house in America is watching you and listening to your story.”
“Excellent. Allow me to take a moment and reveal that I am working alone; no one is helping me orchestrate this event. Mr. Cato has chosen to help me keep the peace within our prison, but he is acting under my behest. In my custody, along with the chief and our news crew, I have eleven hostages, one of whom is pregnant. She will be released soon enough, along with most of those remaining.” He was silent for a moment as his hopeless eyes revealed that he was reliving a hell from many years past. “I watched my friends die every day. We were shot for eating breakfast. We were shot for not eating breakfast. Nothing could be done to ensure our survival. We were Jews, so they killed us. We were at their mercy.
“Do you remember Schindler’s List? That was a very sad movie for me to watch. I am so glad that those few were spared, but I am sorry that they had to live with the horror that they endured. The movie was accurate, but it was not graphic enough. You couldn’t smell the death that we smelt daily. We had no sanitation. We had no place for garbage. Sometimes, we would watch the scientists performing experiments on the dead before we were allowed to put them in the ovens for burning.
“My children died one by one, slowly starving to death. Those sweet, innocent…” he broke down and wept openly, wailing and mourning with pain unspeakable. “My children never had a chance to live. They were never given a chance to find out who they are. They might have been art lovers, or musicians. They might have been brilliant world leaders. They might have had families all their own and could have held their own children in their arms. Or sing to them as they fell asleep in the evening. Or to make a steaming mug of hot chocolate on a snowy morning…” he stopped to blow his nose. “But they were struck down before they ever had a chance to live. What kind of monster would destroy an innocent life, just for convenience?”
Rose lifted her hand and asked, “Excuse me, Isaac.”
Isaac, who had been speaking as if oblivious to the crowd at hand, seemed to return to the present with her question. “Yes, my dear?”
Rose rubbed her belly apologetically. “I really need to find a bathroom. This little one is keeping me busy.” As she spoke, she rubbed her hand along her belly and seemed to be caressing her baby.
“Of course. Miss Kincaid, could you escort Rose to the lady’s room?”
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
The Decision Maker Part I
Let us journey to something more pleasant. I want to share with you a story of mine that has been a favorite for many years. It is a story that is very important, and I have a personal connection with an element of the story line. Those of you who have followed me for a while will recognize this tale, and I ask you to bear with me for a while longer, when I will post an undiscovered short story. For now, this story fits within the theme of human life, and how precious it really is. I am posting Part I of this rendering.
In a downtown bank, a gunman steps forward and takes the crowd hostage. The maneuver took a matter of seconds to conclude as he fired a single round into the ceiling, which immediately overwhelmed the stunned and scared security guard lounging by the water cooler in the corner by the vault. An alarm sounded, directly protesting the terrorist act, and the gunman simply pointed to the guard who entered the code necessary to disable the blaring, violent noise.
He demanded that the hysterical crowd remain calm until all of his grievances could be addressed, as if the crowd would immediately return to hysterics once his concerns were settled. After a space of five seconds, the hostages stopped wailing and he had their attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Isaac Jacobs and I am not here to rob you, so please don’t do anything rash that will jeopardize you or your neighbor’s safety. You have become unwilling participants in a social experiment. However, after a few minutes of discomfort, I will gladly release you and you will leave unharmed. In a moment, the police will arrive, along with the media. I will address my concerns only after I have everyone’s full attention, as I don’t like to repeat myself more than necessary.
“As I mentioned before, I am not here to take your money or your valuables. I have a specific grievance which will be addressed shortly. Until then, please remain calm and try to make yourselves comfortable.” He walked along the length of the bank counting his hostages. “There are twenty-two of you present, including employees. I intended to act earlier, as the bank doors opened, to minimize the potential number of casualties, but I was delayed in my arrival. I tell you this so that you will be prepared to answer questions of the authorities after I am removed from power. There are twenty-two of you present. Please remember that number. Only twenty-one of you will be leaving, as one of you will die in this incident.”
The crowd began to shift and mummer among themselves as the information of one casualty sunk in. Each prisoner began to wonder who would be the one unlucky victim until a man stepped forward. He was wearing a cowboy hat and appeared to be in his early fifties. “Sir? If I may?” He held up his hand until Isaac noticed him. “I would like to volunteer to be the one hostage to die.” A gasp echoed through the crowd as this man gallantly surrendered his life to the madman. “I mean, I don’t really know these people, but I have lived a happy life and I am at peace with my God. After all, Jesus died for me, I am willing to die for others.”
Isaac nodded to the man. “I am very pleased to have your generous and unsolicited offer. Your character is to be commended. However, I have already selected my prey.” He redirected his attention to the crowd. “I now want all of you to step forward slowly and form a single file line, please stand about three feet apart.”
The first person to stand was a woman who appeared to be fortyish. “I am the bank president, I am responsible for everything that happens here, and I will be the first.” She glanced over at the cowboy as if to tell him that his gallantry was wasted on a liberated woman. A line formed behind her until all stood in an orderly fashion. He examined the crowd and pointed to two elderly gentlemen in the middle. “I would like for the two of you to go last, if you please. That way I can determine how these events will unfold.” He watched as they complied with his orders and took their position at the back of the line. “Very good. Now, I want you to step forward one at a time, beginning with Mrs…. I am sorry, I don’t know your name.”
The bank president glared at him. “Misses Kincaid,” with special emphasis on misses.
“Yes, of course, Miss Kincaid.” He nodded politely to her and addressed the crowd. “What I want you to do is rather unpleasant, but important if I am able to ensure your safety. Please don’t argue with me or misinterpret my intentions. This is simply a matter of safety. Okay now, beginning with Miss Kincaid, I want each of you to step forward and undress down to your delicates and place your clothes on this table.” He touched the top of the table and rapped on it once for good measure.
The crowd balked at such a ridiculous instruction until Isaac waved his gun in their faces. “I want to remind you that, even though I am a gentleman by nature, I am a now a criminal by definition. I do hold a weapon for a specific purpose.”
The cowboy held up his hand. “Sir?”
Isaac immediately recognized him. “Please, what is it?”
“Well, it seems to me that no gentleman would force these women to take off their clothes in front of this crowd or yourself. Not to mention the fact that a gentleman would not take a crowd hostage at gunpoint.”
“Thank you for your observation, Mr.?”
“Cato.”
“Thank you for your observation, Mr. Cato. However, you are at a distinct disadvantage of not realizing my motivations. With time, I will correct that problem. However, for now, I don’t have the means or resources to allow these women the luxury of modesty. I am afraid that you will all have to look away to ensure what privacy that might afford. Now, Miss Kincaid, I am sure that a liberated woman such as you will be the first to step forward and be processed. Unless you prefer Mr. Cato to be first.”
“I am sure that I will manage.” She sighed and stepped forward. She quickly undressed and placed her clothing on the table in front of Isaac.
“If you would please step back until I can examine your clothing to ensure that you don’t hold a weapon.” He picked through her skirt and blouse. Once satisfied that she was unarmed, he instructed her to turn a full circle with her arms outstretched. Isaac never looked at her vulnerable body in a vulgar or lustful manner, but returned her clothing, designating a place for her to stand against a wall, completely segregated from the unsearched crowd. After she was dressed he asked, “I would think that the police would have responded by now. It has been at least five minutes.” As he spoke, the sirens were heard approaching. “Good! Now hurry up, I will be very busy in a moment.” He pointed at Cato, who pulled off his boots and stopped moving.
“Mr. Cato, are you so modest that you risk your own life, or are you simply proud and stubborn?”
Cato shrugged. “Actually, I am just a cowboy. As any other good cowboy, I have a pistol in my belt. I just didn’t want to surprise you and have someone get hurt.”
“Very good, sir. I applaud your thoughtfulness. Please retrieve your weapon and place it on the table and back away until I have recovered it.” Cato did as he was instructed and continued to undress. The crowd silently grinned at him as he revealed his heart covered boxer shorts. He blushed and hurried to the corner to get dressed.
Isaac processed five people without comment until a young woman stepped forward and began to undress. “Just a moment young lady. The police will be calling any second and I must speak with them post haste.” Almost on cue, the phone in the lobby rang and Isaac instructed Mr. Cato to answer. He spoke long enough to identify himself as a hostage and handed the phone to Isaac.
“This is Isaac Jacobs, and I am responsible for the activities taking place. I assure you that no unnecessary harm will come to these hostages. Once the media has fully responded, please return this call and I will discuss our situation. Until then, please rest assured that everything is under control here.” He hung up the phone and addressed the young woman. “Okay, please continue.”
She hesitated and glanced out the window at the activities on the street. Realization came to Isaac and he nodded. “Yes, of course you are right. Mr. Cato, would you please close the blinds and allow us more privacy? I am sure that we don’t want a sniper to shoot into the windows and accidentally kill a hostage. You can rest assured that the media won’t be filming your undressing.”
He gave full attention to the young woman while she undressed. “You are pregnant? How far along are you?”
“Six months tomorrow.” She looked at the floor.
“I am sure that you must be proud. Is it a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t want to know.” She never looked at him while he talked to her.
His eyes acted as if they wanted to dance. “Keeping it a surprise? Well, that was how we did things when my little ones where born. Of course, in the 1930’s we had no choice.” He laughed at his joke and ushered her to the searched wall. He processed ten more hostages until the phone rang again. Mr. Cato walked over and answered after Isaac pointed to him. He politely handed the phone over.
“This is Isaac Jacobs, with whom am I speaking? Okay, Chief Gray, am I right to assume that you have never handled a hostage situation before? Yes, it will be my first time also. However, I have planned this scenario many times and I am fully convinced that no one will be injured unnecessarily, if no one gets careless or anxious…. Yes, I am holding twenty-two hostages…. No one has been injured yet…. I am now conducting a search for weapons. When I am finished, I will call you and we will discuss this situation.” He hung up the phone. “Mr. Cato? Would you please get a chair for this young lady who is pregnant?” He turned to her. “What is your name?”
“Rose.” She spoke softly without looking up.
Cato complied and carried a chair to Rose, and she sat down gratefully. He searched his prisoners until the last two elderly men stood in front of him. When he ordered them to strip down, they balked for a moment, but catching a gleam in his eye, they surrendered to his will. When their task was complete he did not return their clothing. Instead, he made them stand together and ordered them to remove their t-shirts, revealing a tattoo on both of their right shoulders. Isaac instructed them to kneel and approached them from behind. Their tattoos where identical.
To be continued...
The Decision Maker
In a downtown bank, a gunman steps forward and takes the crowd hostage. The maneuver took a matter of seconds to conclude as he fired a single round into the ceiling, which immediately overwhelmed the stunned and scared security guard lounging by the water cooler in the corner by the vault. An alarm sounded, directly protesting the terrorist act, and the gunman simply pointed to the guard who entered the code necessary to disable the blaring, violent noise.
He demanded that the hysterical crowd remain calm until all of his grievances could be addressed, as if the crowd would immediately return to hysterics once his concerns were settled. After a space of five seconds, the hostages stopped wailing and he had their attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Isaac Jacobs and I am not here to rob you, so please don’t do anything rash that will jeopardize you or your neighbor’s safety. You have become unwilling participants in a social experiment. However, after a few minutes of discomfort, I will gladly release you and you will leave unharmed. In a moment, the police will arrive, along with the media. I will address my concerns only after I have everyone’s full attention, as I don’t like to repeat myself more than necessary.
“As I mentioned before, I am not here to take your money or your valuables. I have a specific grievance which will be addressed shortly. Until then, please remain calm and try to make yourselves comfortable.” He walked along the length of the bank counting his hostages. “There are twenty-two of you present, including employees. I intended to act earlier, as the bank doors opened, to minimize the potential number of casualties, but I was delayed in my arrival. I tell you this so that you will be prepared to answer questions of the authorities after I am removed from power. There are twenty-two of you present. Please remember that number. Only twenty-one of you will be leaving, as one of you will die in this incident.”
The crowd began to shift and mummer among themselves as the information of one casualty sunk in. Each prisoner began to wonder who would be the one unlucky victim until a man stepped forward. He was wearing a cowboy hat and appeared to be in his early fifties. “Sir? If I may?” He held up his hand until Isaac noticed him. “I would like to volunteer to be the one hostage to die.” A gasp echoed through the crowd as this man gallantly surrendered his life to the madman. “I mean, I don’t really know these people, but I have lived a happy life and I am at peace with my God. After all, Jesus died for me, I am willing to die for others.”
Isaac nodded to the man. “I am very pleased to have your generous and unsolicited offer. Your character is to be commended. However, I have already selected my prey.” He redirected his attention to the crowd. “I now want all of you to step forward slowly and form a single file line, please stand about three feet apart.”
The first person to stand was a woman who appeared to be fortyish. “I am the bank president, I am responsible for everything that happens here, and I will be the first.” She glanced over at the cowboy as if to tell him that his gallantry was wasted on a liberated woman. A line formed behind her until all stood in an orderly fashion. He examined the crowd and pointed to two elderly gentlemen in the middle. “I would like for the two of you to go last, if you please. That way I can determine how these events will unfold.” He watched as they complied with his orders and took their position at the back of the line. “Very good. Now, I want you to step forward one at a time, beginning with Mrs…. I am sorry, I don’t know your name.”
The bank president glared at him. “Misses Kincaid,” with special emphasis on misses.
“Yes, of course, Miss Kincaid.” He nodded politely to her and addressed the crowd. “What I want you to do is rather unpleasant, but important if I am able to ensure your safety. Please don’t argue with me or misinterpret my intentions. This is simply a matter of safety. Okay now, beginning with Miss Kincaid, I want each of you to step forward and undress down to your delicates and place your clothes on this table.” He touched the top of the table and rapped on it once for good measure.
The crowd balked at such a ridiculous instruction until Isaac waved his gun in their faces. “I want to remind you that, even though I am a gentleman by nature, I am a now a criminal by definition. I do hold a weapon for a specific purpose.”
The cowboy held up his hand. “Sir?”
Isaac immediately recognized him. “Please, what is it?”
“Well, it seems to me that no gentleman would force these women to take off their clothes in front of this crowd or yourself. Not to mention the fact that a gentleman would not take a crowd hostage at gunpoint.”
“Thank you for your observation, Mr.?”
“Cato.”
“Thank you for your observation, Mr. Cato. However, you are at a distinct disadvantage of not realizing my motivations. With time, I will correct that problem. However, for now, I don’t have the means or resources to allow these women the luxury of modesty. I am afraid that you will all have to look away to ensure what privacy that might afford. Now, Miss Kincaid, I am sure that a liberated woman such as you will be the first to step forward and be processed. Unless you prefer Mr. Cato to be first.”
“I am sure that I will manage.” She sighed and stepped forward. She quickly undressed and placed her clothing on the table in front of Isaac.
“If you would please step back until I can examine your clothing to ensure that you don’t hold a weapon.” He picked through her skirt and blouse. Once satisfied that she was unarmed, he instructed her to turn a full circle with her arms outstretched. Isaac never looked at her vulnerable body in a vulgar or lustful manner, but returned her clothing, designating a place for her to stand against a wall, completely segregated from the unsearched crowd. After she was dressed he asked, “I would think that the police would have responded by now. It has been at least five minutes.” As he spoke, the sirens were heard approaching. “Good! Now hurry up, I will be very busy in a moment.” He pointed at Cato, who pulled off his boots and stopped moving.
“Mr. Cato, are you so modest that you risk your own life, or are you simply proud and stubborn?”
Cato shrugged. “Actually, I am just a cowboy. As any other good cowboy, I have a pistol in my belt. I just didn’t want to surprise you and have someone get hurt.”
“Very good, sir. I applaud your thoughtfulness. Please retrieve your weapon and place it on the table and back away until I have recovered it.” Cato did as he was instructed and continued to undress. The crowd silently grinned at him as he revealed his heart covered boxer shorts. He blushed and hurried to the corner to get dressed.
Isaac processed five people without comment until a young woman stepped forward and began to undress. “Just a moment young lady. The police will be calling any second and I must speak with them post haste.” Almost on cue, the phone in the lobby rang and Isaac instructed Mr. Cato to answer. He spoke long enough to identify himself as a hostage and handed the phone to Isaac.
“This is Isaac Jacobs, and I am responsible for the activities taking place. I assure you that no unnecessary harm will come to these hostages. Once the media has fully responded, please return this call and I will discuss our situation. Until then, please rest assured that everything is under control here.” He hung up the phone and addressed the young woman. “Okay, please continue.”
She hesitated and glanced out the window at the activities on the street. Realization came to Isaac and he nodded. “Yes, of course you are right. Mr. Cato, would you please close the blinds and allow us more privacy? I am sure that we don’t want a sniper to shoot into the windows and accidentally kill a hostage. You can rest assured that the media won’t be filming your undressing.”
He gave full attention to the young woman while she undressed. “You are pregnant? How far along are you?”
“Six months tomorrow.” She looked at the floor.
“I am sure that you must be proud. Is it a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t want to know.” She never looked at him while he talked to her.
His eyes acted as if they wanted to dance. “Keeping it a surprise? Well, that was how we did things when my little ones where born. Of course, in the 1930’s we had no choice.” He laughed at his joke and ushered her to the searched wall. He processed ten more hostages until the phone rang again. Mr. Cato walked over and answered after Isaac pointed to him. He politely handed the phone over.
“This is Isaac Jacobs, with whom am I speaking? Okay, Chief Gray, am I right to assume that you have never handled a hostage situation before? Yes, it will be my first time also. However, I have planned this scenario many times and I am fully convinced that no one will be injured unnecessarily, if no one gets careless or anxious…. Yes, I am holding twenty-two hostages…. No one has been injured yet…. I am now conducting a search for weapons. When I am finished, I will call you and we will discuss this situation.” He hung up the phone. “Mr. Cato? Would you please get a chair for this young lady who is pregnant?” He turned to her. “What is your name?”
“Rose.” She spoke softly without looking up.
Cato complied and carried a chair to Rose, and she sat down gratefully. He searched his prisoners until the last two elderly men stood in front of him. When he ordered them to strip down, they balked for a moment, but catching a gleam in his eye, they surrendered to his will. When their task was complete he did not return their clothing. Instead, he made them stand together and ordered them to remove their t-shirts, revealing a tattoo on both of their right shoulders. Isaac instructed them to kneel and approached them from behind. Their tattoos where identical.
To be continued...
Friday, February 13, 2009
WHAT IS TAUGHT IN SEX EDUCATION?
This will be a most unpleasant experience. First, it's a little long. Second, it's been sanitized to the point it feels disjointed to me. Third, it's a volatile topic. Fourth, I fear your reactions. However, I believe so strongly in the sanctity of human life that I'm willing to alienate all of you in order to bring light to this issue. My material and research is a little dated. This article was written a few years ago, and I don't have the time to provide fresh figures. But at one time, the information I'm presenting was hard fact. I pray that you will each prove me wrong and that I've sounded the alarm for no cause. I'm especially interested in what our professional educators (Gwen, Rosslyn, and so forth) will have to say about my assertions. Sex Ed is different with each locality. Most of my research reflects what was happening in Dallas, Texas in the late 90's and early 2000's. With no further disclaimers, I present:
WHAT IS TAUGHT IN SEX EDUCATION?
“Our presence in schools guaranteed a 50% increase in pregnancy,” said Carol Everett, former sexual education teacher and abortion clinic owner. “We had a strategy that changed with every class; our ultimate goal was to generate a market for abortions”. Many schools in our nation have implemented a sexual education program. What are they teaching? What agenda does a woman like Carol Everett support, and what is she teaching in a sexual education program?
There are two basic thoughts on sex education. The first is an abstinence only program teaching that sexual relationships and activities are solely for after marriage. The second school of thought teaches sexual awareness and safe sex measures, including abortion.
SEX EDUCATION BEGAN AT HOME
According to Microsoft Encarta, modern public sexual education essentially began in the post-World War II era and was known as “social hygiene.” At first, the programs only included the physical process, workings of sex organs, venereal diseases, family roles, and the psychological and emotional causes and consequences of sex. As the years passed, the public schools began to adopt a less factual approach and began to teach sex as a philosophy. The modern driving force behind today’s sexual education is a government organization called SIECUS, which stands for, Sexuality Information and Education Council of the United States. SIECUS works hand in hand with Planned Parenthood.
According to the SIECUS web site, their primary goal is the promotion of adult sexual health. They “provide accurate information about human sexuality, including growth and development, human reproduction, anatomy, physiology, masturbation, family life, pregnancy, childbirth, parenthood, sexual response, sexual orientation, contraception, abortion, sexual abuse, HIV/AIDS, and other sexually transmitted diseases, … as well as the ability to create satisfying relationships…. This would include helping young people develop the capacity for caring, supportive, non-coercive, and mutually pleasurable intimate and sexual relationships.”
TITLE V
In 1996, President Clinton signed into law the Temporary Assistance to Needy Families Act (P.L. 104-193) that directly conflicts with the philosophy adopted by SIECUS. The law created an abstinence only program in Section 510, Title V of the Social Security Act. Congress allocated matching funds with the states to enable the implementation of abstinence-only-until-marriage education.Many states were eager to begin teaching the more moderate and conservative method in hopes of lowering their teen pregnancy rates. Abstinence programs began demonstrating satisfying results. The Pro-life community eagerly rejoiced that teen pregnancy was going down and that the spread of sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) was declining. Yet, the liberal factions were furious at the success of the abstinence message.
TITLE V UNDER ATTACK
Citizen Link website remarks that “the safe-sex cartel (Planned Parenthood, SIECUS and their ideological allies in the public health community) have pulled out all stops to sabotage Title V. Initially, SIECUS lobbied for governors not to apply for the block grant funds. After all 50 states applied for the money, SIECUS began promoting ways to spend the money wastefully. “Unfortunately, many states have adopted the SIECUS template and have created programs that: [1.] Aim the abstinence programs almost exclusively at pre-teens. [2.] Strip the “marriage” aspect from the abstinence message. [3.] Promote oral sex and mutual masturbation as an alternative to sexual intercourse. [4.] Contain unrealistic evaluation requirements to set abstinence up for failure. [5.] Stack review panels with condom advocates. [6.] Concentrate spending in non-targeted and expensive mass media. [7.] Exclude the abstinence message from classrooms. It is likely that the abstinence message will be wasted in many of these states”.
The attempts to undermine Title V became increasingly apparent with each state’s reaction. In Minnesota, the message was focused on children 14 and under, about 2% of the total teen pregnancies. In Montana 42% of the funding was spent on salaries, overhead, and janitorial services. (Federal law restricts spending more than 10% on administrative costs.) In Washington, Christine Charbonneau, a state official on sexuality, taped her presentation of how to sabotage Title V. In Tennessee, the state plan spent Title V money on soccer and basketball leagues. Gov. Angus King of Maine proclaimed his opposition to Title V while he proclaimed his intention to take the money. In Nebraska, a draft identified parental opposition to comprehensive sex education (a non-abstinence program) as a major problem.
The opposition was not limited only to states. The safe-sex cartel resurrected the Douglas Kirby study of abstinence education in California, a condom use study, and presented it as a new study to raise questions about Title V. On a CNN live debate, Debra Hafner said that SIECUS had never received any taxpayer money. SIECUS deleted the listing of the grant they received off of their Web site the next day. The Durex Condom Company conducted a confusing telephone survey and used loaded questions to inflate their position. (The FCC slapped Durex with sanctions after the study revealed its findings.) Jane Fonda made a series of inaccurate statements on an appearance on Good Morning America. Project Director Dave Poehler, of the Centers for Disease Control, used his position to lobby against Title V during business hours. The list of ridiculous attempts to subvert Title V went on and on. If the safe-sex cartel was truly interested in banishing teen pregnancies and stopping STDs, then why do they fight so hard to stop a positive approach? Watch as the conspiracy unfolds:
DEFECTORS REVEAL TRUE STRATEGIES
Carol Everett owned one-third interest in two abortion clinics in Dallas, Texas, and was very closely associated with SIECUS. She stated on Focus on the Family Daily Broadcast, originally aired in 1998, and in a personal interview with this author, that they had two marketing plans for her abortion clinics. The first plan was to use the Yellow Pages. The second marketing plan involved sex education. Her business goal was three to five abortions per girl between the ages of 13 and 18. Their program began with Kindergarten. They place the children in a circle, alternating them boy, girl, and talked to them about their private parts. They would then ask each child what their parents called their private parts. The sex educator (trained by Planned Parenthood) would then laugh at the terms their parents used, in an attempt to make the parents look foolish and discredit them. Everett stated that they were attempting to undermine parental influence and cause the children to trust what they said as ultimate truth. The Planned Parenthood instructor urged the children to share information with each other, taking turns at recess revealing their private parts to each other. This strategy changed with every class. In the first, second, and third grade, the curriculum included using nude models of children in a book titled, It’s Perfectly Normal by Robie H. Harris. This book has demonstrations and diagrams of intercourse, and was available in almost every school library and in most beginning year classes. In addition to sexual intercourse, It’s Perfectly Normal encourages children to explore masturbation, abortion, and homosexual practices.In the fourth grade, they taught masturbation. The instructor urged the children to experience masturbation by themselves at first. Then as they became more comfortable with it, to share masturbation as a group activity. In doing so, they introduce the homosexual agenda and alternate lifestyles.
Each year the goal was to devalue parents and break down natural modesty. Starting in the fifth grade and continuing through high school, they taught sexual contact and intercourse.
In High School, life sized sex models of the human body are brought to the classroom and used for their demonstrations. The children are so hormonally energized by the classes that they often experience sexual behavior before they get home from school. The school pregnancy rate increased by fifty percent with the presence of Planned Parenthood and SIECUS materials. Carol Everett said that they developed “A skillfully marketed product sold to a frightened young woman.” She was so successful in marketing abortions that she had first hand experience with performing over 35,000 abortions within 6 years. And this was occurring in the heart of the Bible Belt, Dallas, Texas.
Amy Stephens had multiple abortions during her teen years. While attending college in California, she started working with Family Planning and was closely associated with Doctor Allride, a famous abortion doctor in Southern California. “There is a savior mentality in abortions,” she confided, to Dr. James Dobson of Focus on the Family radio broadcast. After a few years, Amy became morally conflicted with the greed driven abortion industry. Before she abandoned her pro-choice platform, she worked closely with SIECUS and the National Education Administration.
In a taped interview with Dr. Dobson, she revealed that SIECUS and the National Education Administration shared common goals. They wanted to produce comprehensive, sexually healthy kids. During a child’s developmental years, they taught that homosexuals could have partners and alternate lifestyles. They asserted that abortion is an option and that masturbation and fantasies are acceptable behavior.
WHY DON’T PARENTS KNOW?
Many parents are concerned throughout the US. If the information provided here is accurate, then why is there so much support for a liberal sex education program? Planned Parenthood teaches their instructors how to avoid concerned parents and divert their attention. We would have no knowledge of the diversion practice if it weren’t for women like Carol Everett and Amy Stephens. In the Focus on the Family broadcast entitled “Sex Education and Our Children,” Carol and Amy reveal many of the strategies used by Planned Parenthood to thwart attempts to evaluate or stop liberal sex education techniques. Many of the concerned parents were either lied to or made to look and feel foolish. The parents were not aware that the instructors had undertaken specific classes on confrontational parents.
A strong misinformation campaign is hard at work to establish the illusion that there is a broad resistance to the abstinence program. The truth is that most parents support and strongly approve of the abstinence message. “A major study of 28,000 adults taken by USA Today in 1997 found that 56 percent thought the best way to reduce pregnancy is to teach abstinence while only 31 percent thought that the best way is to promote safe sex”.
HOW SUCCESSFUL IS THE ABSTINENCE PROGRAM?
“It is entirely possible for adolescents to remain abstinent. In fact, the majority of females ages 12 to 19 have never had sex. Health professionals agree that abstinence is, far and away, the single most healthy choice. But, to remain abstinent, teens need to be encouraged and equipped with medically and socially accurate information on the consequences of sexual promiscuity and with knowledge, character development and skills on how to remain abstinent. And abstinence needs to be presented in a manner which unapologetically states that choosing the best alternative in sexual health is the social norm. The message of comprehensive safe-sex education: We’d prefer that you choose abstinence. But if you decide not to choose abstinence, make sure you use a condom. A parallel message to abstinence-centered education would be this: ‘Don’t smoke; it is not healthy for all the following reasons…and here are a number of skills to help you avoid smoking.’ The parallel message to comprehensive sex education would be: ‘We wish you wouldn’t smoke, but if you do, smoke filtered cigarettes…and we will provide them to you without telling your parents.’ The comprehensive safe-sex message is also known as the ‘duel message.’ It sends adolescents a compromised and confused signal”. “Evaluating Your School District’s Sex Education Program.” 26, Feb. 1998. 20 Oct. 2000. Family.org.
But aren’t the majority of students sexually active? Wrong. Not every student is active. In fact, in 1995 the Federal Centers for Disease Control found that nearly half of high school students, 48% girls, 46% boys, had never had a sexual experience. Not only that, a large percentage of those that had sex wished that they had remained virgins. In addition, they would like to acquire the skills to become abstinent.
EVALUATING YOUR SCHOOL’S SEX EDUCATION PROGRAM
What can parents do to protect their children from SIECUS and other liberal sexual education programs? The Federal Government allows, within the public schools, a program called Release Time, which congress provides and is legal in all states. Release Time allows children to leave schools for an alternative education program, to include Sexual Education. Concerned parents should approach their schools and ask what their sexual education program is teaching for the next ten years. If they are teaching an abstinence-based program, then safe sex topics are not addressed.Citizen Link Web site gives this advice to concerned parents. “Parents should evaluate a variety of areas when examining their school’s sex education materials. They should gather information about how the material deals with the following areas: Role of Parent in the School Decision Making Process, Portrayal of Parent in the Curriculum, Moral Perspective, Sexual Development, View Toward Abstinence, Consequences of Promiscuity, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Alternative Lifestyles, Contraception, Adoption, Character & Social Development, Marriage, Family, Human Reproduction, [and] Parenting”.
Parents should find out if they can participate in the teacher training classes. One can glean much information from sitting through the course. Parents should serve on a sex education committee and become involved with special interest groups. Attending school board meetings can also prove advantageous. In short, parents should find a way to become involved in their child’s sex education. Assuming that your school is handling the subject appropriately is dangerous. Raising a child is the parent’s responsibility.
I recognize that this material is a little out dated. In fact, I would dance in the streets if you parents could prove me wrong. There is nothing that would make me happier than for you to demonstrate that I'm way off base with this article. Please do so!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
There will be a short pause in the sanctity of human life theme. I'll resume again in a day or two.
I was tagged by soccerma18 to receive:
The Honest Scrap award:
A) First list 10 honest things about yourself - and make it honest (hence, the award 'Honest Scrap'), even if you have to dig deep!
B) Pass the award on to 8 bloggers that you feel embody the role of the Honest Scrap. (This is an award only to display on your blog that everything you write on it is in truth, sincerity, and integrity.)
So I can honestly say that:
1. I hate pecan pie. No matter how it's made, I just don't like it. Actually, I think it's the cooked pecans that I don't care for, 'cause I'll eat raw pecans all day long. My daughter doesn't care for pecan pie either.
2. I hate insincerity. I don’t mind joking around, and that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about people who tell you what you want to hear.
3. I don’t do well with large groups of people. It’s not a fear issue, but I grow incredibly moody if I’m bombarded by too many people for too long.
4. I don’t like going to prayer meetings. *gasp* (I know, I can’t believe I said it, either.) Maybe it’s my ADD kicking in, maybe it’s my insincere attitude, but I get really antsy in prayer meetings and I grow weary of listening to people pray for long periods of time. To me, prayer is a very personal thing that is between me and God. I understand the value and necessity of corporate prayer, and I don’t discount it, but I don’t want to participate. I don’t like praying out loud, but I’m always willing to do it. I guess I’m funny that way. Maybe I’m just selfish…
5. I loathe traffic lights. In a perfect world, everyone would yield to me so I wouldn’t have to stop for those insane lights!
6. I don’t like it when people who LIVE in the United States don’t speak English. I’ll grant some grace for a new immigrant who hasn’t had the opportunity to learn English, but I am intolerant of people who move here but refuse to speak my language. I especially dislike it when I pick up instructions and they are in another language. Or, even more so, when you go to a restaurant where the menu is in another language….WHOPPERS!
Now for some positive things…
7. I always get a lump in my throat when I hear the National Anthem, and I dearly love our soldiers who face danger every day so that my kids can sleep in peace.
8. I think Ronald Reagan was the best thing since sliced bread.
9. I think it’s funny that sliced bread is the standard of comparison for every new thing that comes along, and it has been surpassed by virtually every new thing that comes along. Does that make sense?
10. Although I don’t like Valentine’s Day, I’m a big fan of expressing your love for your one true love. I always participate in Valentine’s Day, but on my own terms. I never celebrate it on the 14th. Sometimes I’ll do it a few days early; sometimes a few days later—but it’s always on my terms, and not the corporate, pressure-driven, … yadda yadda.
11. I have to fight back tears when I watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” every Thanksgiving.
Oops, that’s too many. Maybe I should delete one of these…
Well, I’m supposed to tag others. So, here goes…
Amy. She has a fantastic new book out that everyone needs to buy.
Alison. If I have to do this, so do you!
Rosslyn. This woman never ceases to amaze me.
Gwen. Her tender heart is so eloquently expressed through incredible articles.
Kate. She's the strongest person I know, and there are few I appreciate more.
Tex. She's from Texas! What's not to like?
Gzusfreak. She has the coolest design to a blog, and her site is interesting to boot!
Okay, that's enough joy spreading. If' you've already been tagged, have no fear. I won't hold your feet to the fire.
I was tagged by soccerma18 to receive:
The Honest Scrap award:
A) First list 10 honest things about yourself - and make it honest (hence, the award 'Honest Scrap'), even if you have to dig deep!
B) Pass the award on to 8 bloggers that you feel embody the role of the Honest Scrap. (This is an award only to display on your blog that everything you write on it is in truth, sincerity, and integrity.)
So I can honestly say that:
1. I hate pecan pie. No matter how it's made, I just don't like it. Actually, I think it's the cooked pecans that I don't care for, 'cause I'll eat raw pecans all day long. My daughter doesn't care for pecan pie either.
2. I hate insincerity. I don’t mind joking around, and that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about people who tell you what you want to hear.
3. I don’t do well with large groups of people. It’s not a fear issue, but I grow incredibly moody if I’m bombarded by too many people for too long.
4. I don’t like going to prayer meetings. *gasp* (I know, I can’t believe I said it, either.) Maybe it’s my ADD kicking in, maybe it’s my insincere attitude, but I get really antsy in prayer meetings and I grow weary of listening to people pray for long periods of time. To me, prayer is a very personal thing that is between me and God. I understand the value and necessity of corporate prayer, and I don’t discount it, but I don’t want to participate. I don’t like praying out loud, but I’m always willing to do it. I guess I’m funny that way. Maybe I’m just selfish…
5. I loathe traffic lights. In a perfect world, everyone would yield to me so I wouldn’t have to stop for those insane lights!
6. I don’t like it when people who LIVE in the United States don’t speak English. I’ll grant some grace for a new immigrant who hasn’t had the opportunity to learn English, but I am intolerant of people who move here but refuse to speak my language. I especially dislike it when I pick up instructions and they are in another language. Or, even more so, when you go to a restaurant where the menu is in another language….WHOPPERS!
Now for some positive things…
7. I always get a lump in my throat when I hear the National Anthem, and I dearly love our soldiers who face danger every day so that my kids can sleep in peace.
8. I think Ronald Reagan was the best thing since sliced bread.
9. I think it’s funny that sliced bread is the standard of comparison for every new thing that comes along, and it has been surpassed by virtually every new thing that comes along. Does that make sense?
10. Although I don’t like Valentine’s Day, I’m a big fan of expressing your love for your one true love. I always participate in Valentine’s Day, but on my own terms. I never celebrate it on the 14th. Sometimes I’ll do it a few days early; sometimes a few days later—but it’s always on my terms, and not the corporate, pressure-driven, … yadda yadda.
11. I have to fight back tears when I watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” every Thanksgiving.
Oops, that’s too many. Maybe I should delete one of these…
Well, I’m supposed to tag others. So, here goes…
Amy. She has a fantastic new book out that everyone needs to buy.
Alison. If I have to do this, so do you!
Rosslyn. This woman never ceases to amaze me.
Gwen. Her tender heart is so eloquently expressed through incredible articles.
Kate. She's the strongest person I know, and there are few I appreciate more.
Tex. She's from Texas! What's not to like?
Gzusfreak. She has the coolest design to a blog, and her site is interesting to boot!
Okay, that's enough joy spreading. If' you've already been tagged, have no fear. I won't hold your feet to the fire.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Heidi's Hero
The rest of this month is going to be dedicated to the sanctity of human life. I sincerely hope I don't lose too many of my readers, and I doubt I will, but I can't stay silent when I consider those who are defenseless and have no one to protect them.
My first offering in this series is a short story titled, Heidi's Hero. This is a bizarre story, even by my standards, so I anticipate a flurry of comments. They should be fairly interesting, if I know my audience. Oh, and as a special treat, I'm going to post the entire story. I couldn't find a spot to break it up, so I just unloaded the entire thing at once.
Jack was an ordinary man. He had a family and a regular job. He paid his taxes, he voted at every opportunity, and he watched every Super Bowl. According to society, Jack was the life-blood of mainstream America. However, Jack had a problem.
A peculiar change overcame him when he saved the life of a small child—a seven year old. He was walking his dog on a lazy, Saturday afternoon when he noticed a woman walking sporadically, dragging a little girl by the arms. The girl was whimpering, almost inaudibly, but willingly submitted to her mother’s harsh demands.
Jack grew curious as he watched the woman drag the girl into an alleyway, between two large, forbidding buildings. He followed quietly; his one vice being nosy. His curiosity transformed into horror as the woman produced a pistol from her purse and held it to the girl’s head with shaking hands. The girl’s eyes pleaded for mercy that would not be granted, for her mother cocked the pistol with grim determination.
Springing from the shadows, Jack tackled the woman and started wrestling her for the gun. The woman squealed, out of either fright or defiance, and counter attacked with a martial arts maneuver that sent Jack spiraling face first into the concrete. The woman quickly climbed to her feet and retrieved her pistol, lifted it to the girl’s head. Jack, shaken by the blow, staggered to his feet and charged the would-be killer again. He caught her on the chin with a closed right fist; the woman dropped to the ground, but refused to yield her weapon. He threw himself upon the woman and started to restrain her, but the woman screamed again and managed to position her body where she lay on top of Jack. Ignoring Jack, she lifted the pistol and squeezed off a shot that clipped the little girl’s pigtail.
The girl shrieked in terror, but stood frozen in place. Jack yelled at her to run, but she was a statue, a tribute to terror. The woman recocked the pistol and held it level again. Jack, out of desperation, grabbed the woman by the head and twisted her neck with a furious effort. A grinding, popping, sound, and the woman was dead, her body twitching as if stung by a thousand invisible bees. As her dead fingers yielded to her nerves, the pistol erupted again, and it was flung halfway across the alley. Jack threw her lifeless body aside and ran to attend the little girl. Pedestrians on the street had heard the gunfire and were shouting to dial 911.
Jack became a celebrity. He was the lead story in every legitimate publication through out the world. He was dubbed “Heidi’s Hero,” after the little girl he saved. The change that overcame him was immeasurable, it even he was caught unaware.
Here is what happened: Teresa Carol, the girl’s mother, was a woman heavily taxed with burdens. She grew up under an abusive hand; a series of scars that even time could not heal. Teresa was never married; she bounced from one meaningless relationship to another. The more relationships that exploited her, the worse her behavior became. Then came Heidi, an unwanted child in an unwanted life. Teresa, upon learning that she was pregnant, tried to have an abortion. She went to a clinic and sat down with the counselor, who was concerned about Teresa’s well being. The baby was going to be a terrible burden on a woman who wasn’t even stable herself. The baby would most likely grow up dysfunctional, and therefore, deserved to be spared the anxiety of repeating her mother’s life mistakes. Teresa was in trouble, and only an abortion could save her. Her counselor quickly surmised that Teresa must act now, or it would be too late. She agreed to have the procedure—until she discovered that it cost money. When the procedure cost more than she was able to pay, the counselor promptly dismissed Teresa until she could produce the funds.
Devastated, Teresa returned to her pregnancy and determined to find a buyer for her baby. However, Teresa had not realized the emotional attachment she would have for the child. No one had ever loved Teresa; maybe this child would love her.
After Heidi’s birth, Teresa realized love for the first time. Truly, she could not sell her baby. However, as time passed and Heidi became a burden, Teresa decided that child rearing was too hard for her. Her boyfriends would yell at Heidi and some of them would shake her when she cried. Secretly, she started to hate Heidi for invading her life. The baby was a terrible burden, just as the counselor had predicted. Teresa was not a good mother. She simply wasn’t ready. After all, she wasn’t very old herself. She kept remembering the words of the counselor, “The baby will grow up as dysfunctional as you are. Is that what you want? We must embrace the truth that the procedure is the only option that really works. You are not ready to be a mother. Fortunately, you still have time before you become a mother. Act now, get yourself out of trouble, do the responsible thing.”
For seven years, Teresa heard these words echoing in her sleep until she became obsessed with them. If she simply ended Heidi’s life, then her problems would go away. After all, Heidi was not a woman until she grew older. She served no real part in the community; she was only an added burden. To perform the procedure on her was the only responsible thing to do.
The next morning, Teresa took Heidi to the abortion clinic and asked to have the procedure done for Heidi. The counselor looked at Teresa and then at Heidi for a very long moment. “Are you telling me that Heidi is in trouble? At such a young age?”
“Yes, and I believe that a baby in my life would be too much of a burden. I am not responsible enough to raise a child. I am in trouble and I need you to help me. Will you help me? I have the money.”
The counselor nodded gently. “Oh course, dear, of course. We have never done the procedure on a child so young, or small, but it seems to start earlier all the time these days.” She shook her head as if scolding young girls for getting pregnant. “Of course we can help you. How long has, I’m sorry, what is the little girl’s name and age?”
“Heidi, age seven.”
The counselor looked cautiously at Teresa. “And you think Heidi is pregnant?” She quickly brushed off the question before Teresa could answer her. She could see the potential to make some quick cash on her. “Of course, you realize this is a special procedure that we have never done before. It will cost much more than normal, after all, the child is so small.”
Theresa nodded. “My boyfriend gave me one thousand dollars to take care of Heidi. I am really not sure, but he could be the one responsible for her.”
The counselor shook her head. To realize this woman allowed her child to be molested by her boyfriend, why, there should be a crime against that.
“Where should I leave Heidi?”
“I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”
“Where should I leave her so you can do the procedure? I need to meet my boyfriend soon.”
“Well, we can do it now, in just a few minutes.”
Theresa’s eyes watered. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.” She dried her tears with a tissue. “Heidi, I love you and I will miss you a lot. Bye bye.” She turned to leave.
The counselor jumped up. “Ma’am? You can’t leave such a small child in here by herself. You will have to accompany her for most of the procedure.”
“I don’t want to watch Heidi die. I think it would be too hard.”
In a moment of clear realization, she grasped that she was negotiating euthanasia, not an abortion on a seven-year-old. “I think that you have misunderstood, we can’t help you with your problem. Please leave immediately.”
“But you said that an unwanted pregnancy can be terminated. You said I was not responsible enough to raise a child.”
“Ma’am, this child is a living person, you can’t just kill her!”
“But you told me that my baby was not alive, not a person, just tissue. I don’t want her; she is an unwanted child. What is the difference?”
“Ma’am, please leave my office.”
Theresa, thoroughly confused, approached a drug dealer she knew and offered him a thousand dollars for a gun. He accepted her offer and she started walking down the street with Heidi, looking for a place to kill her daughter, to terminate her existence. That is when Jack got involved in Heidi’s life.
Jack had never done anything in his life that impacted society. He had always lived an average life, under average circumstances. He had always imagined that if he had served in the military during a war, he would have been awarded the Medal of Honor. He was always burdened by a strong sense of civic duty that he owed more to America than America had given him. He could feel tears invade his eyes every time he heard the National Anthem. He was a patriot down to his red, white, and blue ties.
He was intoxicated by the feeling he experienced when he saved Heidi’s life. He wasn’t struggling with pride; rather, it was a sense of accomplishment that ignited in him a desire to be excellent again.
Jack was also a very moral man. He would not steal, not even a pen from his office. He hated thieves, for they took what they wanted with little regard for others. He despised liars. He felt that a man must represent the truth, no matter what it cost him. Truth was a matter of conviction, a brand that was burned on his heart.
He also loved life. He loved children—especially babies. He loved the way new babies were perfumed with life, how it enamored them. Once he watched a news story about a family that burned cigarette holes in their baby’s stomach, and became irate. Even irrational.
It would outrage him to see an abusive hand placed on a child. Jack also hated abortion. He believed in the sanctity of human life. He believed that any abortion was a matter of murder, and any doctor that performed abortion should be treated as a war criminal. Even in the cases of incest and murder, abortions were unjustifiable homicides.
Jack had walked in the light of a hero, and could see only what a hero has eyes to see. He saw an opportunity to be a hero again. He would fight for those that were unable to fight for themselves. He would prevent the silent scream, even if it ment his own life. He started a crusade to end the world of abortions.
__________________________
Jack attempted to reason with the abortion doctors, but they refused him an audience. He pleaded with them to stop murdering unborn babies, but his words fell on deaf ears. He surmised that the doctors were too influenced by the money that was in abortions to be objective. He would have to take another approach. However, the politicians seemed to avoid him. He joined lobby groups, but accomplished nothing. He wrote letters, but received no answers. The Republican platform praised his voice for speaking out, but was powerless to change the laws. The religious community hosted him on their television shows and promised to pray, but did not act with him. He was determined to find a way to stop the madness of abortion. He would find a way…
_________________________
Perched just above an abortion clinic with rifle in hand, he waited for the doctor to step out of his BMW. Jack had a perfect angle for a kill; one shot was all he needed. He allowed for distance, he allowed for wind, and then calculatingly squeezed the trigger. The doctor was standing before his Maker before he knew he was dead. This was a doctor that Jack had plead with to stop the murders. The doctor laughed at him and called him “just another wacko right-wing religious nut.”
Jack was stunned at how easy it was to defend the unborn babies unable to defend themselves. The news swarmed the story like flies searching for a pile of defecation. Jack watched the news. He watched an interview with a prominent pro-life speaker who estimated that the assassin had saved potentially thousands of unborn lives. He disagreed with the action taken, but was thankful for the babies whom that doctor “would no longer rip in half and suction through a tube.” Jack also watched an interview with a doctor that publicly condemned the unknown terrorist. The doctor swore an oath, on public television, that he would stand up for the rights of the woman, and work overtime to make up for this injustice. He called on all abortion clinics to increase their working hours to accommodate the violated women, who must also fight for their rights.
Jack wasted no time in closing the doors of that clinic, at lest for a few weeks. Terror engulfed the world, as doctors were being shot all over the Untied States. Three doctors were shot on the same day by three different men. All of whom were arrested that same day. Conservatives had declared war on abortion.
Women were terrified to attend the clinics, for one woman was shot as she exited a clinic in Alabama. Jack would have never killed the mother, for he felt that she was a victim also. Jack now used his public stance to make a television appearance. He declared that the killing of the women must stop, for they had been lied to by the government and by the press. They were victims of the money hungry abortion industry. He made no mention of the doctors slain. He, too, rejoiced that so many babies had been spared.
The media crucified Jack that night. He was labeled a terrorist. What right did he have to endorse the murder of the doctors, who were only providing a public service? The laws of the Untied States allowed for abortion, therefore it was a just practice. A woman has the right to choose what to do with her body, and no one else could say anything about it.
Jack decided to give a rebuttal. He pointed out that Teresa had the right, under the abortion laws, to choose freely whether or not Heidi would live. What difference did it make if Heidi was breathing the atmosphere? A mother should have the right to choose, regardless of the child’s age. He spat sarcasm at the media and the pro-choice community. They hated him for it. That night, as the war raged across America, Jack was shot, through the head, by a sniper shouting, “Freedom to the people!”
And with that, I close this dark, depressing story. I ask you to stop and leave a comment, even if it's to say you won't be back for another visit. Thanks for stopping by!
My first offering in this series is a short story titled, Heidi's Hero. This is a bizarre story, even by my standards, so I anticipate a flurry of comments. They should be fairly interesting, if I know my audience. Oh, and as a special treat, I'm going to post the entire story. I couldn't find a spot to break it up, so I just unloaded the entire thing at once.
Heidi’s Hero
Jack was an ordinary man. He had a family and a regular job. He paid his taxes, he voted at every opportunity, and he watched every Super Bowl. According to society, Jack was the life-blood of mainstream America. However, Jack had a problem.
A peculiar change overcame him when he saved the life of a small child—a seven year old. He was walking his dog on a lazy, Saturday afternoon when he noticed a woman walking sporadically, dragging a little girl by the arms. The girl was whimpering, almost inaudibly, but willingly submitted to her mother’s harsh demands.
Jack grew curious as he watched the woman drag the girl into an alleyway, between two large, forbidding buildings. He followed quietly; his one vice being nosy. His curiosity transformed into horror as the woman produced a pistol from her purse and held it to the girl’s head with shaking hands. The girl’s eyes pleaded for mercy that would not be granted, for her mother cocked the pistol with grim determination.
Springing from the shadows, Jack tackled the woman and started wrestling her for the gun. The woman squealed, out of either fright or defiance, and counter attacked with a martial arts maneuver that sent Jack spiraling face first into the concrete. The woman quickly climbed to her feet and retrieved her pistol, lifted it to the girl’s head. Jack, shaken by the blow, staggered to his feet and charged the would-be killer again. He caught her on the chin with a closed right fist; the woman dropped to the ground, but refused to yield her weapon. He threw himself upon the woman and started to restrain her, but the woman screamed again and managed to position her body where she lay on top of Jack. Ignoring Jack, she lifted the pistol and squeezed off a shot that clipped the little girl’s pigtail.
The girl shrieked in terror, but stood frozen in place. Jack yelled at her to run, but she was a statue, a tribute to terror. The woman recocked the pistol and held it level again. Jack, out of desperation, grabbed the woman by the head and twisted her neck with a furious effort. A grinding, popping, sound, and the woman was dead, her body twitching as if stung by a thousand invisible bees. As her dead fingers yielded to her nerves, the pistol erupted again, and it was flung halfway across the alley. Jack threw her lifeless body aside and ran to attend the little girl. Pedestrians on the street had heard the gunfire and were shouting to dial 911.
Jack became a celebrity. He was the lead story in every legitimate publication through out the world. He was dubbed “Heidi’s Hero,” after the little girl he saved. The change that overcame him was immeasurable, it even he was caught unaware.
Here is what happened: Teresa Carol, the girl’s mother, was a woman heavily taxed with burdens. She grew up under an abusive hand; a series of scars that even time could not heal. Teresa was never married; she bounced from one meaningless relationship to another. The more relationships that exploited her, the worse her behavior became. Then came Heidi, an unwanted child in an unwanted life. Teresa, upon learning that she was pregnant, tried to have an abortion. She went to a clinic and sat down with the counselor, who was concerned about Teresa’s well being. The baby was going to be a terrible burden on a woman who wasn’t even stable herself. The baby would most likely grow up dysfunctional, and therefore, deserved to be spared the anxiety of repeating her mother’s life mistakes. Teresa was in trouble, and only an abortion could save her. Her counselor quickly surmised that Teresa must act now, or it would be too late. She agreed to have the procedure—until she discovered that it cost money. When the procedure cost more than she was able to pay, the counselor promptly dismissed Teresa until she could produce the funds.
Devastated, Teresa returned to her pregnancy and determined to find a buyer for her baby. However, Teresa had not realized the emotional attachment she would have for the child. No one had ever loved Teresa; maybe this child would love her.
After Heidi’s birth, Teresa realized love for the first time. Truly, she could not sell her baby. However, as time passed and Heidi became a burden, Teresa decided that child rearing was too hard for her. Her boyfriends would yell at Heidi and some of them would shake her when she cried. Secretly, she started to hate Heidi for invading her life. The baby was a terrible burden, just as the counselor had predicted. Teresa was not a good mother. She simply wasn’t ready. After all, she wasn’t very old herself. She kept remembering the words of the counselor, “The baby will grow up as dysfunctional as you are. Is that what you want? We must embrace the truth that the procedure is the only option that really works. You are not ready to be a mother. Fortunately, you still have time before you become a mother. Act now, get yourself out of trouble, do the responsible thing.”
For seven years, Teresa heard these words echoing in her sleep until she became obsessed with them. If she simply ended Heidi’s life, then her problems would go away. After all, Heidi was not a woman until she grew older. She served no real part in the community; she was only an added burden. To perform the procedure on her was the only responsible thing to do.
The next morning, Teresa took Heidi to the abortion clinic and asked to have the procedure done for Heidi. The counselor looked at Teresa and then at Heidi for a very long moment. “Are you telling me that Heidi is in trouble? At such a young age?”
“Yes, and I believe that a baby in my life would be too much of a burden. I am not responsible enough to raise a child. I am in trouble and I need you to help me. Will you help me? I have the money.”
The counselor nodded gently. “Oh course, dear, of course. We have never done the procedure on a child so young, or small, but it seems to start earlier all the time these days.” She shook her head as if scolding young girls for getting pregnant. “Of course we can help you. How long has, I’m sorry, what is the little girl’s name and age?”
“Heidi, age seven.”
The counselor looked cautiously at Teresa. “And you think Heidi is pregnant?” She quickly brushed off the question before Teresa could answer her. She could see the potential to make some quick cash on her. “Of course, you realize this is a special procedure that we have never done before. It will cost much more than normal, after all, the child is so small.”
Theresa nodded. “My boyfriend gave me one thousand dollars to take care of Heidi. I am really not sure, but he could be the one responsible for her.”
The counselor shook her head. To realize this woman allowed her child to be molested by her boyfriend, why, there should be a crime against that.
“Where should I leave Heidi?”
“I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”
“Where should I leave her so you can do the procedure? I need to meet my boyfriend soon.”
“Well, we can do it now, in just a few minutes.”
Theresa’s eyes watered. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.” She dried her tears with a tissue. “Heidi, I love you and I will miss you a lot. Bye bye.” She turned to leave.
The counselor jumped up. “Ma’am? You can’t leave such a small child in here by herself. You will have to accompany her for most of the procedure.”
“I don’t want to watch Heidi die. I think it would be too hard.”
In a moment of clear realization, she grasped that she was negotiating euthanasia, not an abortion on a seven-year-old. “I think that you have misunderstood, we can’t help you with your problem. Please leave immediately.”
“But you said that an unwanted pregnancy can be terminated. You said I was not responsible enough to raise a child.”
“Ma’am, this child is a living person, you can’t just kill her!”
“But you told me that my baby was not alive, not a person, just tissue. I don’t want her; she is an unwanted child. What is the difference?”
“Ma’am, please leave my office.”
Theresa, thoroughly confused, approached a drug dealer she knew and offered him a thousand dollars for a gun. He accepted her offer and she started walking down the street with Heidi, looking for a place to kill her daughter, to terminate her existence. That is when Jack got involved in Heidi’s life.
Jack had never done anything in his life that impacted society. He had always lived an average life, under average circumstances. He had always imagined that if he had served in the military during a war, he would have been awarded the Medal of Honor. He was always burdened by a strong sense of civic duty that he owed more to America than America had given him. He could feel tears invade his eyes every time he heard the National Anthem. He was a patriot down to his red, white, and blue ties.
He was intoxicated by the feeling he experienced when he saved Heidi’s life. He wasn’t struggling with pride; rather, it was a sense of accomplishment that ignited in him a desire to be excellent again.
Jack was also a very moral man. He would not steal, not even a pen from his office. He hated thieves, for they took what they wanted with little regard for others. He despised liars. He felt that a man must represent the truth, no matter what it cost him. Truth was a matter of conviction, a brand that was burned on his heart.
He also loved life. He loved children—especially babies. He loved the way new babies were perfumed with life, how it enamored them. Once he watched a news story about a family that burned cigarette holes in their baby’s stomach, and became irate. Even irrational.
It would outrage him to see an abusive hand placed on a child. Jack also hated abortion. He believed in the sanctity of human life. He believed that any abortion was a matter of murder, and any doctor that performed abortion should be treated as a war criminal. Even in the cases of incest and murder, abortions were unjustifiable homicides.
Jack had walked in the light of a hero, and could see only what a hero has eyes to see. He saw an opportunity to be a hero again. He would fight for those that were unable to fight for themselves. He would prevent the silent scream, even if it ment his own life. He started a crusade to end the world of abortions.
__________________________
Jack attempted to reason with the abortion doctors, but they refused him an audience. He pleaded with them to stop murdering unborn babies, but his words fell on deaf ears. He surmised that the doctors were too influenced by the money that was in abortions to be objective. He would have to take another approach. However, the politicians seemed to avoid him. He joined lobby groups, but accomplished nothing. He wrote letters, but received no answers. The Republican platform praised his voice for speaking out, but was powerless to change the laws. The religious community hosted him on their television shows and promised to pray, but did not act with him. He was determined to find a way to stop the madness of abortion. He would find a way…
_________________________
Perched just above an abortion clinic with rifle in hand, he waited for the doctor to step out of his BMW. Jack had a perfect angle for a kill; one shot was all he needed. He allowed for distance, he allowed for wind, and then calculatingly squeezed the trigger. The doctor was standing before his Maker before he knew he was dead. This was a doctor that Jack had plead with to stop the murders. The doctor laughed at him and called him “just another wacko right-wing religious nut.”
Jack was stunned at how easy it was to defend the unborn babies unable to defend themselves. The news swarmed the story like flies searching for a pile of defecation. Jack watched the news. He watched an interview with a prominent pro-life speaker who estimated that the assassin had saved potentially thousands of unborn lives. He disagreed with the action taken, but was thankful for the babies whom that doctor “would no longer rip in half and suction through a tube.” Jack also watched an interview with a doctor that publicly condemned the unknown terrorist. The doctor swore an oath, on public television, that he would stand up for the rights of the woman, and work overtime to make up for this injustice. He called on all abortion clinics to increase their working hours to accommodate the violated women, who must also fight for their rights.
Jack wasted no time in closing the doors of that clinic, at lest for a few weeks. Terror engulfed the world, as doctors were being shot all over the Untied States. Three doctors were shot on the same day by three different men. All of whom were arrested that same day. Conservatives had declared war on abortion.
Women were terrified to attend the clinics, for one woman was shot as she exited a clinic in Alabama. Jack would have never killed the mother, for he felt that she was a victim also. Jack now used his public stance to make a television appearance. He declared that the killing of the women must stop, for they had been lied to by the government and by the press. They were victims of the money hungry abortion industry. He made no mention of the doctors slain. He, too, rejoiced that so many babies had been spared.
The media crucified Jack that night. He was labeled a terrorist. What right did he have to endorse the murder of the doctors, who were only providing a public service? The laws of the Untied States allowed for abortion, therefore it was a just practice. A woman has the right to choose what to do with her body, and no one else could say anything about it.
Jack decided to give a rebuttal. He pointed out that Teresa had the right, under the abortion laws, to choose freely whether or not Heidi would live. What difference did it make if Heidi was breathing the atmosphere? A mother should have the right to choose, regardless of the child’s age. He spat sarcasm at the media and the pro-choice community. They hated him for it. That night, as the war raged across America, Jack was shot, through the head, by a sniper shouting, “Freedom to the people!”
And with that, I close this dark, depressing story. I ask you to stop and leave a comment, even if it's to say you won't be back for another visit. Thanks for stopping by!
Monday, February 2, 2009
The Ghost in the Grass--A True Story
The other day, I went out for a walk, trying to find time for some peace and quiet. I was in a reflective mood, trying to make sense of life. When I emerged from a heavily wooded area, I waded through some grass that was knee deep and immersed in sunshine.
I couldn’t see all that well, and I tripped over what I thought to be a root. Turning to take a second look at my unseen spoiler, I stopped and stared at a sight too unbelievable to accept. I had tripped over a skeleton!
My years as a police officer kicked into gear and without thought, I reached for my phone to dial 911, so I could report the death to Sheriff Waller. I cordoned off the area immediately surrounding the body and began a cursory search to see if any other bones might be lying around, desperately hoping that there was only one death to report, and not several. Please don’t let this be a mass grave of some serial killer…
It’s a queer feeling when you happen upon death unexpectedly. At first, I thought of foul play, and assumed that the attacker might be surveilling the area for possible signs of detection. Then I rationalized that the body was decayed to the point of skeletal remains, therefore the odds of the killer hanging out where limited. The next thought I had was, “what if this person died of a heart attack?” The idea upset me because this individual died alone, and in some stage of peril. What if he’d been attacked by a bear? But, the skeleton was intact, so there were probably no wild animals attempting to devour the body.
While I waited on the police, and the longer I stared at the body, the more I began to wonder about this person’s identity. Who was this person? What was his or her name? What were their hopes and dreams? And then I wondered—why are there antlers growing out of his head?
I couldn’t see all that well, and I tripped over what I thought to be a root. Turning to take a second look at my unseen spoiler, I stopped and stared at a sight too unbelievable to accept. I had tripped over a skeleton!
My years as a police officer kicked into gear and without thought, I reached for my phone to dial 911, so I could report the death to Sheriff Waller. I cordoned off the area immediately surrounding the body and began a cursory search to see if any other bones might be lying around, desperately hoping that there was only one death to report, and not several. Please don’t let this be a mass grave of some serial killer…
It’s a queer feeling when you happen upon death unexpectedly. At first, I thought of foul play, and assumed that the attacker might be surveilling the area for possible signs of detection. Then I rationalized that the body was decayed to the point of skeletal remains, therefore the odds of the killer hanging out where limited. The next thought I had was, “what if this person died of a heart attack?” The idea upset me because this individual died alone, and in some stage of peril. What if he’d been attacked by a bear? But, the skeleton was intact, so there were probably no wild animals attempting to devour the body.
While I waited on the police, and the longer I stared at the body, the more I began to wonder about this person’s identity. Who was this person? What was his or her name? What were their hopes and dreams? And then I wondered—why are there antlers growing out of his head?
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