The Grand Experiment

In 1788 our Founding Fathers established the Constitution of the United States of America. When ask what type of government they had given the people, Benjamin Franklin responded and I paraphrase: A Republic, if you can keep it. A Constitutional Republic was something that had never been tried before. This Grand Experiment, as it has been called, appears to being torn asunder at its very fabric.

Consider voting rights. This right is under attack after being so hard fought for over the years. Many contend that voting is not a right because it isn’t mentioned as such anywhere in the body of the Constitution. This belief totally ignores the amendments.

The Ninth Amendment, being part of the "Bill of Rights" reads: "The enumeration in the Constitution of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people." Since the Constitution establishes a Republic where the representatives are elected by those represented, one would suppose that voting is a right though no enumeration exist.

The framers of the Fourteenth Amendment (1868) certainly believed such a right existed. The second sentence of Section 2 begins: "But when the right to vote at any election ..." Again in the Nineteenth Amendment (1920) its framers acknowledged a right to vote: "The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex."

So why is the right to vote under attack in so many states that are controlled by a single ideology? Is it, perhaps, an attempt to nullify the Voting Rights Act of 1965 which brought into the process many voters whom support a different ideology? Yes, these states defend their actions as working to curb voter fraud. However, in the 226 years since the Constitution was ratified, there has never been an election where voter fraud existed to the point that it altered an election. This defense is nothing more than a "red herring."

These states have gerrymandered their state to the point where a single ideology can win state election. Yet, when it comes to federal elections, which is controlled by the Constitution, they fail. So they are left with only one solution, remove from the voting pool those who support a different ideology. Sone of these states have even purposed gerrymandering the outcome of their state’s Electoral College votes.

Why has the election and re-election of our first racial minority President torn so hard at the very fabric of this experiment, the right to vote? Is the racial majority feeling so guilty about their treatment of minorities in the past, they are now paranoid about retribution? Since there is no evidence indicating that the Obama administration has done anything that discriminates against the racial majority, how else to explain the paranoia?

The experiment, while flawed in the beginning, did provide a means to correct those flaws. Three of those flaws have been corrected by constitutional amendments and legislation. The first was the elimination of slavery. The second was extending full citizenship to former slaves. The third was giving the vote to women, the Nineteenth Amendment.

Ninety-seven after the Fourteenth Amendment was ratified, Congress finally did, through legislation (the Voting Rights Act of 1965) extend to all descendants of former slave the right to vote thus enhancing the freedom the amendment promised them. And Section 5 of the Fourteenth Amendment does extent to Congress the "power to enforce, by appropriate legislation, the provisions of this article."

Freedom, being very much a part of the Grand Experiment, does not exist without the right to vote. Now we have an ideology working to once again curb the freedom promised in the Grand Experiment, a promise that took 177 years to fully achieve, by restricting the right to vote.

Such action does tear at the very fabric of the Grand Experiment. If we allow it to be torn asunder, the aspirations and dreams of the Founding Fathers put forth in 1788 with the Constitution, no longer exist. We prove Benjamin Franklin correct when he questioned whether we would be able to keep and maintain a constitutional republic.

Kids Need to be Kids

I know I should be working on "Justice Tempered?" instead of venting over something I just read. However, I just can’t pass this up.

A school principal offered his suggestion to the youth of today when they complain "what can we do, where can we go?" Our school principal’s suggested they "Go home, mow the lawn, wash the windows, learn to cook, build a raft, get a job, visit the sick, study your lessons and after you’ve finished, read a book."

While there is nothing wrong with these suggestions, one thing is left out: Kids need to be kids." How many time have you read something about countries using child labor and responding that kids need to be kids?

The problem today is: Where can a kid be a kid? When I grew up we had place to play. All we needed was an open field and enough kids for a game of baseball or football. Then there was the woods where we played cowboys and indians. Robin Hood or a number of games where we used our imaginations. Today kids have none of these places where their imagination is needed to entertain them.

Without imagination, reading a book is hard. Without imagination, predicating what may happen is next is to impossible. As adults we complain, self included, about imagination not being present in the young. We complain how TV has killed imagination because it supplies all the answers. In my youth TV was an infant. We had radio programs such as "The Shadow" which required imagination. For kids today, radio is nothing more than music.

I have a great-grandson that shows he has an imagination to go along with the abundance of energy he possess. Yet, there are many times when he is using that imagination, we adults criticize him, expecting him to be a four year old adult. This is not what we should be doing to our children, expecting them to be young adults.

There are many of you that will say that times have changed. Things are just not like they were when I grew up. While that is true there is one thing that hasn’t changed: Kids are still the same as they were in 1940s when I was a kid. They still need the same opportunity to sharpen and hone their minds by using their imaginations.

The principal goes on to say the world, nor their parents owe them anything. That is far, far from the truth. We owe these kids the opportunity to be kids. We owe, as a community, not just as individuals, these kids something more than TV, video games and only sixty minutes a day "Play Time." We owe them the opportunity to sharpen and hone their minds with imagination.

Another Apology

Sorry folks.  I do, however, have an excuse for missing another Friday posting.  With the birth of my great-grandson on Monday, it has been a hectic week.  Since I am the only one in the family that does not have to report for a job, naturally I'm the one that is called upon to do the running. 

Know something though, I just love it.  I realize now how much having a job keeps one from enjoying the arrival of new members of the family. 

Not making any promises, but maybe after getting all the doctor visits for both mother and son done, I can get back to rewriting "Justice Tempered?" on a daily bases.

Terry

Great-Grandson

Yesterday, February 24, 2014,

 my second great-grandson, Tristan Eugene St. Clair Clune, blessed my life by being born.  My Granddaughter honored me with a name sake, Eugene.  Mom and baby are doing well.

Thanks for allowing me to share this lmoment with all of you.
Terry Eugene Peele

An Apology

Friends:

Sorry about not have a "Justice Tempered?" chapter today.  I wrote this twenty years ago and I needs to be re-written before posting.  My computer has been in the hospital for the past week and I find it very hard to work on my wife's. 

I get my computer back tomorrow and will began working on another chapter and publish it as soon as it is finished.  Promise, no later than next Friday.

Thank You
Terry

Justice Tempered? Chapter Three

Chapter Three

　

"I SHOT THE SONS-A-BITCH."

This was the phrase Ernest heard that morning when he entered his office to find Mildred and a bloody mass he assumed was a woman holding a bundle. Mildred gave Ernest a bewildered look. "This is Carol Thornton..." is all she managed to say before being interrupted with the haunting phrase. Mildred then continued: "All I can get from her is that statement and the fact she needs to see you. I’ve already called Doc Paige and he is on his way over."

Thornton, a name that had been a thorn in Ernest’s side since childhood. Harvey Thornton was the bully of Campo Though two years older than Ernest, by the seventh grade he was in the same class those Ernest’s age. Two years later he was gone from school, but not from Campo. Harvey had quite school and was working at the brick yards.

In 1942 when Ernest joined the Army he had done so with a classmate, Buford Bucnagel. On the way to Atlanta to be sworn in, they had stopped at the Courthouse in Clarksdale. The recruiter told them they had to pick up a young man that had chosen to joint the Army instead of going to jail. When the sheriff’s deputies escorted the man out, Ernest’s heart sunk: it was Harvey Thornton.

While the recruiter signed the custody papers, Harvey set down behind Ernest and Buford. "Boy is this Army in trouble, a pansy and a bookworm."

While boot camp was not as bad as Ernest had imagined on the bus ride to Atlanta - Harvey became the protector of the Campo 3- it still didn’t go smoothly. Ernest had the highest marks on the rifle range, earning him the nickname "Davy," which didn’t set well with Harvey. "How the hell did a bookworm like you learn to handle a rifle like that. That’s suppose to be a man thing," was his response.

In England for further training Harvey had proven himself somewhat - he was given strips and made squad leader. Ernest was glad he had been sent to sniper school and reported directly to the company commander. He knew he would never have lasted had he been assigned to Harvey’s squad.

Doc Paige entered the office and went directly to Carol. "Somebody hold this baby while I examine this woman." This was Ernest’s first clue that the bundle she held was a child. "This woman needs to be in a hospital now. Please help get her to my car."

As they helped Doc get Carol to the car, Ernest had one question: "Do you want me to be your lawyer." When Carol nodded her head, Ernest looked to Doc and ask: "You witness she answered in the affrimative? That being the case she talks to no one except you and the doctors and nurses at the hospital. I’ll be there as soon as I can" He then turned to Mildred: "I think you need to call the Sheriff’s and have them check Harvey’s house."

As Mildred made her call, Ernest went to his phone and called Dotty and ask if she could get away from the library and go to the hospital and help with the baby. When assured she could he returned to Mildred’s office. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"No. She and the baby were hiding in the bushes when I arrived. She came out as I was unlocking the door and scared me half to death. She told me her name, said she ‘Shot the sons-a-bitch’ and said she wanted to see you. As soon as I realized she was hurt, I called Doc."

"Okay. Cancel everything for today. I’m going to the hospital. I’ll call you as soon as I can to learn what they found at Harvey’s house. I can just imagine." Ernest looked around for his coat and then realized he had never taken it off.

. . .

On the trip to the hospital, Ernest reflected on the one and only time he had met Carol Thornton. Seen may be a better description of the occasion since he had not be introduced.

That day was a week after the Miss Flora Bess incident and now Ernest was reliving it. Miss Flora Bess, the spinster daughter of Charles Astor lived alone in Astor Manor. She was the last direct decedent of Richard still living in Campo. Early on Friday afternoon Miss Flora Bess was walking the streets, much in disarray.

Miss Flora Bess had never been know for her fantastic attire or the manner in which she wore it, yet this afternoon, her appearance and manner was quite noticeable. Being so incoherent no one could determine what had happened, she was taken to the hospital in Clarksdale and from there to the mental institution in Atlanta.

Speculation soon began to circulate that she most likely had been raped by Rufus Johnston. Rufus was a negro handy man from Shankletown, the black section of Clarksdale, who worked for the Kosners. Miss Flora Bess also used him to do some chores for her. When Rufus failed to show up for work on Saturday morning, everyone just knew that was what had happened.

Now here was Harvey Thornton waiting for Ernest when he arrived. Before Mildred could say anything, Harvey chimed in with: "How’s it going Davy?"

Ernest looked to Mildred and she shrugged her shoulders. "Mr. Thornton would like to talk to you even though he doesn’t have an appointment."

"Got some troubles, Davy and this time I need your help."

Shrugging her shoulders again, Mildred told Ernest he did have a few minutes that morning.

"Give me a few minutes to get some things in order and then I’ll see you. Mildred, could you please step into my office please." Once in his office and the door closed behind them, Ernest, heavily, place his briefcase on his desk. "Why do I have the feeling this has something to do with Miss Flora Bess?"

"Because you know Harvey Thornton, that’s why."

Ernest hung his coat on the rack and just fell into his chair. "Do you think you can get an update on the status of the situation?"

"I can still have some connections. I can make some calls."

"Okay. Give me some time to gather my thoughts and then I’ll buzz you."

Over the past six or seven years Ernest had little experience with Thornton because of being in school. On the few occasions they had encountered each other, Harvey had been the one controlling the situation. He had insisted on being called Sarge and calling Ernest the Army nickname "Davy." Ernest determined this would end, and he would he, now, would be in control.

When Ernest buzzed Mildred, he was surprised to learn that there was a Mrs. Thornton and she was in his office. "Sent both in." When he saw Mrs. Thornton enter behind Harvey, he immediately developed a sympathy for her. Here was nice looking lady, whose face showed no life. Ernest knew that she was completely controlled by Harvey.

Harvey pointed to the couch and told his wife to sit there while he and Davy talked. Once Harvey was seated Ernest established some ground rules. "From this point on you will call me Ernest. I will call you Harvey or Harv, which ever one you prefer. No more Davy or Sarge. That time as passed."

From Harvey’s face it was easy to tell he was displeased. Ernest was sure there had been few times in his life that someone had challenged Harvey’s control.

"But its been Davy and Sarge for so long."

Ernest stood and looked directly into Harvey’s eyes: "It’s my way or there’s the door on your way to Clarksdale."

When Harvey’s body slumped in despair or aggravation, Ernest knew he was now in control of the situation. "Okay. Before we go any further, are you retaining me?" The puzzled look on Harvey’s face told Ernest he needed to rephrase. "Are he hiring me to be your lawyer?"

Harvey told Ernest yes, but, he didn’t have any money. He was sure, however, that this was such a great opportunity for Ernest that money wouldn’t be necessary. Shaking his head, Ernest told him to go ahead with what was happening.

"They tell me the Sheriff is looking to arrest me."

"Who are they?"

Harvey told him it was the gang that hung out at the barbershop. Seems one the Sheriff’s deputies lives in Campo and had let it slip that the Sheriff was looking for Harvey and that most likely he would need a lawyer.

When Ernest ask why, Harvey told him it was most likely the disappearance of Rufus Johnston. "You know, that damn nigger that raped Miss Flora Bess."

When Ernest ask if he knew anything about the handyman not showing up for work this past week, Harvey answered: "Hell no. But, I was a nigger that raped a white woman, I’d sure as hell leave town."

Ernest knew there was more here than met the eye. He was hoping Mildred had found out something by now. "Excuse me. I going to see if Mildred has learned anything. I ask her to call Clarksdale. I’m also going to ask your wife to step out. This conversation from now on should be between just you and me." When Harvey nodded, his wife followed Ernest out. There she seat down on the couch, folded her hands in her lap. Ernest knew she would be in the same position when he and Harvey were finished.

Mildred handed Ernest a sheet of paper with everything she had found out. Ernest read it and returned to his office. There he told Harvey that sure enough there was an arrest warrant of him. While it wasn’t for murder, it was for a person of interest.

"That God-damn Sheriff. This is because of him." When Ernest ask why Harvey thought that, "It’s because he thinks I the father of his bastard grandson, that’s why."

What Ernest didn’t tell Harvey was that a traveling salesman had been arrested for fim-flaming a man and to get our of jail, he told a story of being in Campo on Friday afternoon and had joined with some other men who approached Johnston, throw him into a car and drove toward the old kilns. He had identified Harvey as being one of the men. Ernest wanted to know more before Harvey knew his had this information.

When Ernest told Harvey they needed to go to Clarksdale and voluntarily answer the warrant, he wasn’t to happy, but he agreed to go. Once in the outer office Harvey told his wife to go home and stay there. He reminded her that he had people watching. Ernest look at Mildred and just shook his head."

While Ernest had not been to happy that his first foray into criminal law had involved Harvey Thornton, he had benefitted from the experience. It had given him the opportunity to get to know Samuel "Sam" Tanner, the current assistant District Attorney. Judge Milford had thought highly of Sam and had ask him to attend some social events. Thus Ernest had met him on a few social accessions. Now Ernest could become acquainted with him on a professional bases.

It also helped to know Sam on a professional base since Tanner was running for the office his current boss was retiring from. Tanner had been an Army lawyer who had stayed in Germany to assist in the Nuremberg Trials. Back from Europe Sam had taken this job knowing the current DA was not running for re-election.

As Ernest pulled into the hospital’s parking lot, he spotted Dotty’s car and parked beside it. When he found Doc Paige, he was greeted with not so good news. Carol was in emergency surgery and things were touch and go. "That young lady, by all accounts should be dead. Her concern for that baby seems to be the only thing that has kept her alive. She had to be running on pure adrenaline."

Just before Doc could answer Ernest’s inquiry as to where the baby was, Dotty walked into the waiting room with the baby in her arms. Ernest noticed the sparkle in her eyes as she looked down at the bundle in her arms. "His name is Christopher."

When Ernest ask about talking to Carol, Doc told him it would be awhile, tomorrow at the earliest and if he was scheduling things it would be best to put Carol on for the "day after tomorrow, that is if she survives this."

That being the case, Ernest decided to go to the Sheriff Office. On the way he stopped at a phone and call Mildred. Sure enough the had found Harvey lying across the bed with the back of his head blown off. The constable had just left Mildred. He was looking for Carol and warned her about harboring someone who had committed a crime.

At the sheriff’s office Ernest was met by Sheriff Gordon himself. Before any questions could be ask, Gordon took Ernest into his office. "Well someone finally shot that son-of-a-bitch, Harvey Thornton."

"With language like that I’m sure the two of you were great friends."

"That SOB get my daughter pregnant and then throws her aside for some broad from up Tennessee way. And rumor has it you know where she is."

When Ernest told him that she was in the hospital, emergency surgery, the sheriff wanted to know when he could talk to her. "I’m her attorney and I haven’t spoke to her yet. The doctors say it may be two day before, even I, can speak with her."

While Sheriff Gordon appeared to be a little agitated at this, his only commit was: "Maybe someone should give that lady a medal."

Ernest assured the sheriff that Carol would be made available, immediately after he had spoken to her himself. The sheriff stood and shook Ernest’s hand and added: "This one is a little touchy for me. Everyone in the county knows I have a beef with Thornton and I can’t be seen as though I’m not working hard on this case."

Ernest assured the sheriff he understood and would not stand in the way of an investigation. He would, however, protect his client’s right to best of his ability. Before leaving the Courthouse, Ernest stopped by Sam Tanner’s office, just say hello. Sam looked at him and said: "If this is not a social call, leave." Ernest gave him a snappy salute and left. He had his answer, the word was out and before noon everyone in the county would be talking about how Carolyn Thornton had shot her husband to death.

Back in his office, Ernest had ask Mildred to step into his office with her steno pad so the two of them could chronology record what had happened up till now. Before the recollection began, Mildred told Ernest what the constable had told her about the scene. "He said he was surprise to find an large amount of blood in the living room when it was quite evident that Harvey had been shot in the bedroom." Both Ernest and Mildred were certain the blood in the living room would be Carol’s considering the condition she was in.

"When we’ve finished here, call the sheriff’s office and tell Gordon I want access to that house. And when this case is over, we will began to prep you for the bar exam."

Mildred just laughed and began the recollection with: "I was startled when a figure emerged from the bushes as I was unlocking the office door."

Ernest knew Mildred had the knowledge and Georgia allowed an individual to take the bar exam even though they didn’t have a law degree. He had broached the subject many times since that first small sigh, Crockett and Baugh Law Firm, had been hung in front of the stairway leading up to their first office above Buford Bucnagel and his father’s drugstore/barbershop.

Mildred had always just laughed such conversations off with her studying day were long over. When the new offices were ready to open, Ernest had the new sign placed in front. Mildred had protested greatly. Ernest had never budged. "You may not have a degree or a license, but you are an equal partner in this firm." After a month or so she had relented and didn’t mentioned the sign again. The sign read:

CROCKETT, BAUGH

Practitioners

                                                                             of the

Law

Has the "Bill of Rights" been Altered?

Senator Ted Cruz of Texas has introduced a bill in the Senate that he seems to believe would protect a state’s right to define marriage. While not putting it in so many words, he much believe this to be a Tenth Amendment issue. The question I ask is: Does a state have a Tenth Amendment right to define marriage? Let’s take a look at the Tenth Amendment:

The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.

It appears that in Senator Cruz’s opinion the Supreme Court is violating the Tenth Amendment by declaring laws, in some states, prohibiting "Gay Marriage" as unconstitutional. I challenge his assumption.

Consider that some individuals believe the "Bill of Rights" has never be altered or amended in any fashion. In the broad picture that may be true. Narrow the view and you find where they have been altered to a certain extent.

Take, for example, the First Amendment:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Taken in the strictest of terms, the amendment only prohibits Congress from abridging these rights.

While keeping in mind these two amendments, let’s take a look at the first paragraph of the Fourteenth Amendment:

All persons born or naturalized in the United States and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; now deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

This paragraph of the Fourteenth Amendment, while not amending the First Amendment, it has altered it. The Fourteenth Amendment now places on the States the same restrictions the First Amendment placed on Congress. In so doing it narrows the scope of the Tenth Amendment. While narrowing the scope of the Tenth Amendment, it broadens the power of the United States to insure that all citizens are given "equal protection of the laws"

Why is it that individuals, such as Senator Ted Cruz, view the Tenth Amendment as being part of the Constitution, while at the same time ignoring the fact the Fourteenth Amendment enjoys the same affiliation? Is it that they see the "Bill of Rights" as something more than amendments? If this be the case, then they must consider the other seventeen amendments as having lesser value.

Justice Tempered? Chapter Two

Chapter Two

　

Ernest Adcock Crockett was born September 15, 1925, the first child of Douglas and Edith Crockett. Doug Crockett, raised in Clarksdale had taken a job in Campo upon graduating from high school in 1918. Though Doug's family was of modest means, there was no money for college, so he had moved into the Astor Brick boarding house and started to work loading bricks onto trucks.

Doug had hoped to save his money for college, but in the summer of 1919 he met Edith Adcock at the church social and fell immediately in love. Suddenly saving money for college dropped on Doug's list of priorities. Now he put his efforts into getting a better job at Astor Brick. In 1923, when the new kilns had been fired, Doug was promoted to foreman of a loading crew.

With the raise that went along with the promotion, Doug knew he could afford to build a house on the lot he had bought two years earlier. Doug had postponed asking Edith to marry him because he refused to have any member of his family living in company housing. As soon as construction began, Doug purposed to Edith. When he popped the question he was surprised by her answer: "Finally, I have waited for you to ask me that for two years. Of course I will." The two got married just after their house was finished and Ernest was born fifteen months later.

Ernest grew up in the southwest part of town away from the company houses of the north. Though he had gone to school with the other children of Campo, after all there was only one school, he had developed a different interest early. While the other children would remain around the school yard, playing games after school, Ernest enjoyed the solitude of a good book. It seemed he always had a book in front of his face. For this reason he developed a reputation early of being a bookworm.

The Crocketts lived next door to Judge Milford G. Baxter. Judge Baxter and his wife, Betty, had no children, and as a result soon adopted Ernest and his sister Gale as grandchildren. Ernest found this to be very much to his liking. It wasn’t long before he began to earn a little pocket money by doing chores for the Judge and his wife.

It wasn’t just the fact Ernest enjoyed the grand-fatherly way the Judge treated him, there were many books, and the Judge enjoyed sharing the knowledge these books contained. Naturally there were a lot of law books. At age nine Ernest began to inquire what was contained in these law books. The Judge began sitting down and explaining the terminology which was just what the Judge had wanted. As a result Ernest became intrigued with the law at an early age.

This development delighted both of Ernest’s parents. Doug had chosen, voluntarily to forgo a college education and get married, he was determined his children would attend college immediately upon graduation from high school.

This did work out as Doug had dreamed. When Ernest graduated in1942 he had to make a choice: go to college and hope for a deferment or join the Army now. Ernest announced that December 7, 1941 had changed his future plans. Though he had been accepted at Western Carolina College in Cullowhee, North Carolina, the Judge's alma mater, he would be joining the Army

Ernest had reasoned that he could quite possibly be drafted. Edith had hoped he could escape being drafted since he would not be eighteen until after beginning college. However, Ernest knew that drafted or not, he would not be able to sit at home when he felt so strong that his country needed him. Eventually Edith did relent and agreed with Doug to sign Ernest's enlistment papers. Ernest departed Campo along with two others boys, Buford Bucnagel and Harvey Thornton, on Monday, May 29, for Atlanta and the Army.

After the war, Ernest was delighted to learn that his acceptance at Western Carolina was still valid. Judge Baxter, being a alumnus, had intervened on his behalf and the college had allowed Ernest to began classes in the fall of 1945, even though he was about two weeks behind. Ernest threw himself into his freshman year hoping to banish his war experiences.

However, that first year proved extremely difficult for Ernest. The town of Cullowhee offered little entertainment. Ernest soon realized his assumption that the peaceful atmosphere of a small town would be just the thing he need after three year of fighting a war. At the end of his second semester he felt much the same a he had that day in Europe they were told the war was over.

Back in Campo, over his mother’s objects, Ernest elected to spend the summer in Clarksdale. What he needed now was some Ernest time, time to reflect on the three years the war had taken from him. Time to determine if he wanted to try and recapture those years. He knew he had to spend time with his family, the war had stolen from them also. But to stay in Campo he knew he would feel smothered by them

Promising his mother he would attend church with them every Sunday, Ernest purchased a car and departed for Clarksdale. There was no need to seek employment since he had the majority of his Army pay, plus he mustering out pay. While he did have a room in Clarksdale, most of Ernest’s time was spent in Atlanta. There was a buzz to Atlanta, a constant motion that occupied his mind. There were fewer times when his mind reverted back to what he had been doing from 1942 to 1945.

Four weeks later, while having lunch on an outside terrace of a restaurant, Ernest realized he had exercised his demons. He knew he would be going back to school in the fall, the only problem was, he knew it would not be Western Carolina. He, also, knew he would have to face his adopted grandfather and tell him of his decision. The coming weekend there was to be a celebration of his parents wedding anniversary, Doug and Edith were going to renew their vows and he had promised to spend the whole weekend in Campo.

Arriving the Friday before the party, Ernest stopped by the Judges and ask for some time together with him. The Judge said that he was completely free after the party the next day.

When he and the Judge had settled into the leather chair of the Judge’s study, Ernest got right to the point. "Judge, it seems that the adrenaline that is necessary for war, takes a long while to calm down. To be absolutely honest mine is just now beginning to subside. While I did well with my studies this past year, I was miserable. I just can’t bring myself to return to Western Carolina this fall." It was out and Ernest felt as though a heavy load had been lifted from his shoulders.

The look on the Judge’s face showed, without doubt, some disappointment. He, however, assured Ernest that though he had never experienced war, he could sympathize with him. Then he wanted to know what conclusion Ernest had come to concerning his future.

"I’ve developed a strong liking for Atlanta. I’m going to apply to some of the schools in that area, even if I have to wait until the spring semester to began classes."

The Judge’s face lit up and he told Ernest to come to his chamber at eleven o’clock Monday morning.

When Ernest entered the Judge’s chamber on Monday, he could see how delighted the Judge was. "I have some great news. An old colleague of mine, Simon Thurgood - we went to different schools together as kids - is now a judge on the Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals in Atlanta. Talked to him this morning and he says he could use a gofer this summer, if that gofer is willing to take little pay and began Wednesday morning. How about it?"

Ernest was delighted, this was right down his alley. Of course he would be able to be there on Wednesday morning. This would give him a day to find a room in Atlanta and buy a new suit.

The Judge had one last piece of advise before Ernest left: "Simon is a brilliant man. Seek his counsel and follow any advise he may give to the best of your ability."

Wednesday morning when Ernest walked into Judge Thurgood’s office it was as though another load had been lifted from his shoulders. When he introduced himself, the secretary said the judge wanted to see him immediately. Judge Thurgood was a big man, the type of man one would think twice before crossing. Yet, he was soft spoken when he as Ernest to take a set.

For the next half hour they talked about Judge Baxter and Judge Thurgood did some reminiscing about their childhood in Anderson, South Carolina. Then the judge said: "Well, enough of the good old days. I need to get to work and so do you. Sally will give you your duties and you will report to her. Beginning Monday I will want to see you every other day for an hour. And this coming Monday morning you have an eight o’clock appointment with the admissions officer at Emory. If you can impress them and Milford believes you can, you can start classes this fall."

Ernest couldn’t believe his good fortune. Sally told him his main job would be to run errands. When not on an errand he was to assist the clerks in doing research. By the end of the week he had developed a great relationship with Sally and all the clerks.

At five o’clock Monday morning Ernest climbed out of bed, unable to sleep. His stomach was churning, just as it had before entering battle. In three hours he had to walk in, cold, and meet someone he had no earthly idea who they were. The only thing he knew was this individual held a key to his future. He dressed and walked down to an all night café and had breakfast. Back in his room he showered, donned his new suit and drove to the campus of Emory University. He arrived at the Admission Office the same time as the secretary who was unlocking the door.

"You must Mr. Crockett. Mr. Phillips won’t be here for another twenty minutes or so. If you like you can help me make coffee." Ernest was glad to help, anything to get his mind from conjuring up all type of scenarios.

Mr. Phillips was a very pleasant man. He immediately invited Ernest into his office. As he took off his coat and rolled up his selves he ask Ernest why he had chosen Emory.

This caught Ernest by surprise. What could he say? "To be perfectly honest, sir, I believe I made no choice. I believe the choice was made for me."

"That being the case, what do you think of the choice Judge Thurgood made?"

"Knowing I had this appointment I spent time in the library Saturday studying Emory. Had not Judge Thurgood not intervened, Emory would have been one of the schools I would have applied to. I have to admit I was giving some thought to Georgia Tech."

"Now you’re at a crossroads. I’m going to put some pressure on you. I do understand that your service record indicates you do work well under pressure. Judge Simon Thurgood is a well regarded alumnus of this school and being able to enter with his recommendation, much will be ask of you. I do have a slot that I can fill for the fall semester and the Judge’s recommendation does put you at the top. However, I will need an answer by tomorrow at four o’clock."

"I will not need until tomorrow. My choice is Emory."

This was a choice Ernest never regarded. After the first semester Ernest knew he could increase his hours and continuing doing some work of Judge Thurgood. He, also, decided to attend classes year round in order to recapture some lost time. This allowed him to receive his Bachelors Degree in History after the fall semester of 1948.

Again Ernest had to disappoint his mentor Judge Baxter. In addition to that he, now, had disappoint Judge Thurgood. He had applied for, and been accepted for law school at both of their alma maters, the University of North Carolina and the University of Georgia. He, also, had made application to the University of Chicago and been accepted there. He felt it was time he began to cast his own shadow instead of being in another’s. He chose the University of Chicago began classes in the summer of 1949.

This was where he met a young lady with dark auburn hair, Dorothy Kincaid. Ernest soon learned she preferred to be called Dotty. Dotty was a junior and majoring in Social Psychology. Though she lived on campus, Dotty’s home was Evanston, Illinois. Ernest knew immediately that his life had changed. The relationship developed quickly and the winter break of 1949, the couple spent Christmas in Evanston with Dotty’s parents. After Christmas they took the train to Atlanta and drove to Campo to spend New Year’s with Ernest’s family.

Ernest had accelerated his class in Chicago the same as he had done at Emory and received his law degree after the spring semester of 1951 at the same graduation ceremony Dotty receive her Bachelors Degree. While Ernest had his law degree, he no longer had his adopted grandparents. Betty Baxter had passed away in February of a heart attack. In early April the Judge had passed away from what everyone knew was a broken heart.

Before the death of the his adopted grandparents, Ernest had been quite sure that his future lie in Atlanta. He was certain clerking for Judge Thurgood would be much more valuable that working as an associate in some law firm Dotty’s father was certain he could arrange. Dotty had accepted his proposal of marriage and the wedding was planned for the first week in August.

Dotty had been a little disappointed at Ernest’s rejection of her father’s help in obtaining a position in Chicago. She did, however, understand how clerking for Judge Thurgood, whom she had come to love as much as Ernest, would be much more beneficial to his career. Ernest had specialized in Constitutional Law and clerking for a judge on the Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals was something not every graduate had the opportunity to do.

After wrapping everything up in Chicago, Ernest left of Campo. Dotty was going to follow him two weeks later and they would celebrate the Fourth of July there. Ernest’s sister, Gale, had picked him up in Atlanta. When that arrived in Campo he ask her to take him to the cemetery to visit the Baxters before going home. Standing there viewing the tombstone something came over him that he couldn’t explain, even to himself. He only knew that he had to come back here and though it seemed crazy, talk to the Judge.

Over the next two weeks, Ernest spent at least an hour at the grave site talking. After ten days it was clear to him that the Judge was telling him that Campo needed him. That evening he went nest door to visit Mildred Baugh, the Judge’s long time secretary. Mildred had lost her husband during the war and the Judge had taken her under his wing. While Ernest and Gale had inherited the Judge’s portfolio and some property in Campo, Mildred had been left the house and a substantial nest egg.

This was the first time Ernest had been in the Judge’s house since the day of the funeral. When he and Mildred went into the study, there were boxes every where. He looked at Mildred and she laughed. "All this is yours. The boxes contain everything from the Judge’s chambers at the courthouse. Those and everything in this library the Judge made me promise to see that you got them."

"This is a good lead into what I want to talk to you about. I’ve been going to the cemetery every day, and this may seem crazy, but I’ve been talking to the Judge."

"Not crazy at all. He wants you to stay in Campo. He thinks this little hamlet will someday need you."

Ernest’s jaw dropped. Mildred gave him one of her big smiles and then wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "After Betty passed away he and I talked a lot about her and a lot about you. There was no doubt in his mind he wanted you here. He even went so far as to extract a promise form some of the business here to give you some of their legal work."

With a puzzled look on his face, Ernest ask "Who?"

"I can’t tell you because he didn’t tell me. He did say if you set up a practice here they will be there to help you get started. First, however, we need to work on your passing the bar."

As Ernest returned home he didn’t know whether to feel relieved or more confused. Dotty would be here the day after tomorrow and how would he break the news to her that his plans had changed. She had seemed so content with the idea of working on her Masters at one the schools in Atlanta. And then there was Judge Thurgood and the offer to clerk for him.

Dotty had been easy. For some reason she seemed to have sensed what was going to happen. Her masters was not that important right now, his destiny was. When they set down to have lunch with Judge Thurgood he surprised Ernest. "Milford has convince you to return to your roots. I knew he would, even from the grave."

PowerBall: Enjoying the Spoils (Part 2)

The coffee was made. The bacon was fried and I was ready to scramble the eggs when I woke Cheryl. She had been not so happy when I suggested renting the house instead of staying in a hotel. "This is suppose to be a vacation and you want me to prepare meals?" had been her response. I told her we would eat lunch and dinner out every day and that I would do breakfast. With a sideways look she had agreed.

At eight o’clock we boarded the train for Florence. The first tour that morning at ten o’clock was for the Accademia Gallery. Before leaving Las Vegas I had gone to Caesar’s Place to take a look at the replica they had of Michelangelo’s David. I wanted to compare it to original housed here. While the one at Caesar’s was a full scale it didn’t compare. Standing there with my eyes looking upon a piece of art that had been done by the hand of Michelangelo himself, there was just no comparison. I had the same feeling when in the Louvre I viewed the Mona Lisa. Both were magnificent.

The remainder of the art left on the tour was great. It spoke to me the way I had always referred to any type of art that I really enjoyed. My only problem was that we had seen the David before most the other art, that sculpture did much more than speak, it spoke in volumes.

At the end of the tour we were allowed to enter the Accademia di Belle Arti. The history of this place was wonderful. Built by Cosimo I de’ Medici in 1563, not only did it house a gallery for displaying one’s art, it was a center for aspiring artist.

Had I not been a twenty year old, looking for not much more that a beer and a woman back in 1959 when the Navy brought me this part of the world, I could have taken advantage of some of this and been able to share what I had seen with my fellow students in the few humanities classes I had taken. For the first time I regretted being seventy-five years old. I was quite certain none of our children would be interested in how I felt viewing this art. The oldest grandchildren were old enough to have develop their own interest. The youngest grandchildren and the great-grandchildren, ages infant to four, may someday enjoying hearing me talk, that is if I lived long enough.

After a late lunch at one of the sidewalk cafes, we just walked around the streets of Florence. We strolled through some of the smaller museums which contained some work of lesser artist yet were great works in their own right. That evening we dined at the II Latini restaurant. While I have never been a great fan of the Olive Garden or any Italian food for that matter, this place made all the place I tried at home to be fast food. And the wine the waiter suggested we have with our dinner, wow. I was certainly glad we had decided to take the train instead of driving.

On the walk back to the train station I told Cheryl was really glad we had scheduled the tours for every other day. I was certainly going to need a day of laying on the beach and soaking up some that Italian Rivera sun. Also, if she wanted me to cook breakfast, it would be a late breakfast. Not surprising she was in full agreement.

The next morning we both sleep late. We decided that instead of cooking breakfast we would don our swim-wear and find a place where they would serve us. After breakfast were took a short swim and then spread our towels and enjoyed the sun while reminiscing about the art we had seen yesterday.

Cheryl ask me to again tell her why I was so fascinated with Florence. She was enjoying it but we had left Paris after only hitting the highlights. Rome was just down the road and here we were, renting a house for fourteen day in Livorno and spending most of the time in Florence. The answer was simple: Dan Brown’s "Inferno." Explaining that was a horse of a different color.

Where to start? First there were the humanity and western civilization classes. In both we had studied how Florence had been the center of the Italian Renaissance. Florence was the home of the Medici family who had been bankers in the 14^th century. How they had became one of the most powerful economical and political dynasties of the time. How they had been the architects of the city much as we see it today. Their rise to power for a second time in 1512 and the methods used were the inspiration for Machiavelli’s masterpiece "The Prince." This book is where the term "Machiavellian," meaning "the end justifies the means," was derived.

Florence is, also, where the sculptor and painter, Michelangelo had done that magnificent sculptor of David that we had viewed yesterday. I tried to convoy to her just what I had felt standing in front of such a piece of art. It was just impossible to describe to anyone what that felling was.

Reading Dan Brown’s book had awakened my appreciation of renaissance art, but it had been put aside, knowing I would never be able to view it in person. Then we won the PowerBall and I knew I had to see Florence, the epic center of such rebirth.

The next day we, again, took the train to Florence. Today we had booked a tour of the Uffizi Gallery. There we saw Botticelli’s Primavera, sometimes depicted as a very controversial painting. Personally I believe it be nothing more than Botticelli’s appreciation of the human form.

Another painting which I feel would find controversy in the United States is Titian’s Venus of Urbino. While viewing it, I commented to Cheryl that the Evangelicals and Puritans in the United State are extremely caught up in the theory of Creation, yet have no appreciation for what they consider God’s greatest creation, the human form. Why no appreciation? They demand it be covered except on a few number of occasions.

Then there was Giotto’s Ognissanti, da Vinci’s The Annunciation, Raphael’s Modanna of the Goldfinch. When we reach Caravaggio’s I took on look at his Medusa, and wondered who had been the model for the face. "Is this something of a self portrait?" I ask myself.

After the tour we lunched near the Ponte Vecchio, which is bridge over the river Arno. In Italian the Arno river is called Fiume Arno. I really enjoy how Italian and Spainish puts the adjective after the subject.

Then we visited the Basilica of Santa Maria del Fiore, better known as the Duomo. In English it translates to Basilica of Saint Mary of the Flower. And a flower it is. I have a sister that lives next door to a Basilica in Asheville, North Carolina. Though not Catholic, she does take pride in the Basilica and had taken personal action to protect it. I just wish she was here to see this one which took a 140 years to complete. And again, as with Notre Dame, it was done without computers.

For dinner we made a conscious effort no to eat so much heavy food, which is hard to do in an Italian restaurant.

The next day we drove up to Pisa to visit the Leaning Tower. I found the view to be lacking. While I completely understand why all the stabilization is necessary, I enjoy the pictures which remove all the cables.

After leaving Pisa, we spent hours driving around the countryside of Tuscany. While I had never done a study on Tuscany, I had picked up bits and pieces of information here and there. Let me tell you, it was much more beautiful than I had imagined. When I ask Cheryl if she would like to live in a place like this, her answer was: "If we can take it back to America."

While having a late dinner in Livorno, Cheryl confessed she was beginning to get a little homesick.

The next day we returned to Livorno immediately after we finished the tour of the Bargello. After lunch I went to the rental office and spoke with Miss Baldovini about selling the SUV. Immediately she said that her boss just might be interested. When I spoke with him we reached a deal; I would sign the vehicle over to him the day before we took the train to Rome for the flight home.

Once we checked the train schedule to Naples we knew that there would not be enough time to fully enjoy it. It was a five hour trip to Naples and a twelve hour trip back. Naples, the same as Paris and Spain would be a saver.

Instead of Naples we chose to see more of the Tuscany countryside. Over lunch at a neat little café in a small hamlet south of Siena, Cheryl said she needed to unburden her conscious.

"Don’t talk, just listen. I’m really enjoying this. The wines are great and learning about the history of Florence is fascinating. But, about my homesickness. You know I’m not the one to be obsessed with the children. I can live thousands of miles from them. Now, it’s just that I’ve had an ocean between me and them for long enough. Let’s forget about the last few days on the house and spend three nights in Rome and fly home."

It was easy to tell she was torn between continuing in Europe or reconnecting with the roots of home. When we finished lunch we returned to Livorno. After packing I went to the rental office and settled up with Miss Baldovini’s boss. He gave me sixty-five percent of what I had paid for the SUV. This turned out to be better than what I could have done with a rental car.

The next morning we took the train to Rome. Cheryl had made reservations at a hotel while I was at the rental office. Once we had checked in we order wine some apple and cheese and just kicked back on the balcony and just enjoyed doing nothing for the rest of the day.

Though we were going to be here for three nights, Cheryl had come alive again. I had been so caught up in seeing the places and art of things that I had read about I had not noticed she was beginning to enjoy it less and less. Now that she knew four days later we would be on a flight home, she was re-energized.

The afternoon and evening of doing nothing proved valuable the next as we visited the Vatican. The Sistine Chapel was almost over whelming. I knew they had cleaned the ceiling of all the scut the candles had created. I had done some comparing on line between the before and after and was glad I had missed seeing only the before. It astonished me that Michelangelo, being under the pressure placed on him by Pope Julius II and lying on his back could still be so creative. Though I knew very well that taking picture were not allowed, the flash of cameras damage the art, I was disappointed.

After the chapel we went to the museum. As we entered I recalled to Cheryl how Robert Langdon had committed in Angles and Demons that a former Pope had decided that the male genitalia should not be displayed. Thus he had removed them from all the statues in the museum with a hammer and chisel, replacing them with fig leaves. Sure enough all male statues had fig leaves where genitalia should have been. Thank goodness he miss the David. I, again, told Cheryl how much it bothered me that those so insistent on promoting the theory of the Creation was ashamed of the greatest creation of all, the human form.

When we entered Saint Peter’s Basilica I was drown to the Chapel of the Pieta. Standing in front of the Pieta I had the same electric feeling I had standing before Michelangelo’s other masterpiece, the David. I had seen may replicas of varying scales, but standing this close to master’s hand was again breathtaking. As with the David, I wanted to touch it, study if from every possible angle. Though Cheryl had promise to return with me to do the savers, I had a feeling I would never again be able to be this close to such art.

That night at dinner I refused any wine. I was so exhausted I wasn’t sure a glass of wine wouldn’t put me to sleep sitting there at the table. On the way to the room, we stopped by the Consigliere’s desk for a map of the sites of Rome. We were, also, given our tickets and information concerning our noon flight home the day after tomorrow. Back in the room Cheryl opened the map and informed me we had more savers.

The next day we began our tour with the Colosseum. Sometimes it’s amazing how beautiful ruins can be. For some crazy reason its beauty wasn’t the only thing I saw. There was Kirk Douglas and Russell Crowe as gladiators. From there we went to the Roman Forum. Shakespear, Marlon Brando, Marc Anthony and his great speech, they were all there.

Seeing these historic sites and reflecting only on movies, I knew the adrenalin was leaving me. Yesterday at the Vatican had depleted well. I told Cheryl that I wanted to see one more site, a fountain that was perhaps the most famous in the world and I wanted to see it at night.

Back at the hotel rested and then packed. After dinner that evening we took a cab to the Trevi Fountain. We spent over an hour just appreciating the art. Cheryl took as many picture as she liked. I thought she just might use up the eight giga bite card she was using. Though I greatly appreciated the sculpture and artistic value, I did have to connect to one more movie. I threw three coins into the fountain as we left.

At noon the next day we boarded the plane for home. I’m sure I was asleep as soon as the plane reached altitude.

Super Bowl XLVIII

Seattle Seahawks 43 - Denver Broncos 8.   What can I say besides that the Seahawks literally made ASSES out of my Broncos?  An Ass is a beast of burden and man do the Broncos have a burden to carry for the remainder of this year, plus.

PowerBall: Enjoying the Spoils (Part 1)

PowerBall: Enjoying the Spoils (Part 1)

　

Cheryl had worked a little over three weeks after turning in her notice. Some of her co-workers had learned about our good fortune and it didn’t take long for the gossip to spread and request began to come in. The owner of the company where Cheryl worked had introduced us to his financial advisor, whom we had hired. Any request for financial assistance, were directed to him. Also, we had opened a new account for our cell phones, gotten new ones with new numbers, being very selective to whom we gave them to. We only answered voice mail from the old numbers.

It had taken us a little over three months to tie all our loose ends together after claiming the PowerBall. Never knew one could have so many loose ends and still operate on a daily bases. First we had reimbursed all those whom had suffered because of our bankruptcy. After paying off all existing debt we still had close 202 million dollars.

What to do with the money. Jonathan Krane, of Thomas, Krane and Wilson, was the financial advisor we had hired. The first thing he helped us do was take care of the family. A trust fund in the amount of 20 million was set up for each of the four children. Each one was to receive 100 thousand a year. Then we set up another trust in the amount of 20 million that was to be used for the education of all of our direct decedents. Then we set aside 20 million just for Cheryl and I.

Left with 82 million, we came to the conclusion it was found money and should be used to help others. With Cheryl’s approval, I was able to do something I had thought about for at least forty years: A foundation that would help underprivileged high school graduates attend the college or university of their choice. Thus the Xavier Foundation was born.

Both Cheryl and I had decided to inform the children of their trust fund at the same time. Our youngest daughter lived in Colorado and we were able to convince her and her husband to spend a week in North Carolina where the other three children lived. A letter inviting each child and their spouse to a breakfast in a private dinning room at the Cracker Barrel was sent. The letters contained no clue as to why this family meeting was being called.

The designated Saturday morning arrived and all was assembled except the oldest child, a son. He had been estranged from the family for a number of years. Thought Cheryl was an only child, he felt he had been unduly discriminated against in the settlement of my mother’s-in-law estate.

When it was determined he and his wife were not going to show, the local attorney hired by Jonathan Thomas passed out the packets containing the trust and the conditions attached. Each trust was in the amount of 20 million. Cheryl and I were the trustees. Each child was to receive a 100 thousand a year. Any money the trust earned above the 100 thousand would be added to the value of the trust. The principle, 20 million, could not be touched, but with the approval of the trustees, any amount above the original principle could be used.

Once the packets were opened, the excitement grew. Before the packets everyone was eager to order their breakfast. Now breakfast seemed to be forgotten. Everyone wanted to go to the bank and cash the 100 thousand dollar check contained in each packet.

Back in Las Vegas, Cheryl and I put the finishing touches on our estate. Our granddaughter and her two sons were given custody of the house on the condition she maintain it in the manner we would have. She, also, became responsible for the four cats, two dogs and two birds. Determined to help the other grandchildren later we signed over the car and truck to her. An account was set up for her to maintain the property with the co-signature of Jonathan Krane.

Once we had determined how we were going to handle our newfound fortune, I visited a tailor and had a couple suits, some shirts and ties made. Cheryl visited the shops in the casinos on the strip and bought or order gowns and other outfits. It was amazing how fast fifty thousand dollars can disappear when it comes to cloths.

After collecting all new outfits we were ready to depart for Europe. We had promised all the family we would be back for Christmas. Early on a Saturday morning Cheryl and I boarded a plane for New York. From there we flew to Paris. Once in Paris and settled into our hotel, we purchase a car, a Mercedes-Benz SUV, and a detailed map of Europe.

We spent a week in Paris. Two of those days were spent just touring the Louvre. Being an avid reader of Dan Brown, naturally his book, "The Da Vinci Code," came to mind. I’ve always enjoyed paintings that I have a feeling for, I claim they talk to me. Was I ever hearing voices while in this place. While I can appreciate the Glass Pyramid in front, I do wish I could have visited the Louvre before its construction.

Another day was spent at Notre-Dame Cathedral. Imagine this was built in the 13^th and 14^th century. And what is really amazing is it was built without computers. I remember teacher in some of my humanity classes talking about how the buttresses built on the outside of the structure being its main support allowed for a small number of support walls in the interior. While Hugo entered my mind, I did remember that this magnificent structure has been used in so much more art than Hugo’s "Hunchback."

Then there is, always, the Eiffel Tower and the restaurants there. We had to wait four nights before we could get a reservation.

Then there was the Left Bank where we were able to visit some of the restaurants and night clubs that had been frequented by artist and writers such has Picasso, Hemingway and Fitzgerald.

I told Cheryl that some of this was a saver ( a term we had coined many years ago when time had prevented us from seeing all we wished to) if we were only spending a week here. Time was really not a factor here since we would be flying out of Paris to return home.

On our second Sunday in Paris, we checked out of the hotel and drove southeast headed to Nice and Cannes. These two cities would be the first two that were a revisit for me. The Navy had taken me there in 1959. I was glad there was enough summer left that we could enjoy the French Rivera.



After two days on the beach in Cannes we decided to visit Monaco and the Monte Carlo. While checking out of the hotel the Concierge was able to get us a room in Monaco. After checking in I was eager to don my new tuxedo and to see Cheryl in her new gown. After a late dinner we visited the casino. Cheryl learned, really quick, that money lasted longer in Las Vegas’ Monte Carlo than the one in Monaco.

While in Cannes we had made arrangements to rent a house for fourteen days in Livorno a short train ride to Florence. Research had shown Florence would need some time to see, just the cream, of what was there. Fourteen days also allowed us to spend some time on the Italian Rivera and visit Pisa, which has to be a must when this close.

A young lady, Miss Baldovini, met us at the rental agency in Livorno. She spoke excellent English. In fact she spoke the language better than I do. Expecting English to be spoke in all of the major resorts cities, I found it delightful to find the language spoken in the lesser known parts of France and Italy.

Miss Baldovini advised us when visiting some of the places in Florence, such as museums, it would be best to book a tour instead of spending viewing time standing in line. That evening after we settled in and stocked the kitchen, I got on the internet and schedules tours for the Uffizi Gallery, the Palazzo Vecchio, Accademia Gallery and theBargello. The next morning we boardered the train to Florence.

Justice Tempered? Chapter One

Chapter One

"I SHOT THE SONS-A-BITCH."

These words continued to rattle in Ernest’s head as he reached the apex of Kosner Hill and began to descend into the valley which the small hamlet of Campo, Georgia occupied. Nestled in the foothills of northwest Georgia, Campo traced its origin back to the Civil War.

During the war the Confederate Army had established a camp in this valley. The camp had been designated simply as the letter O. Yet everyone had always referred to it as "Camp O." Even after the war the residents of surrounding towns referred to the ruins as Camp O, except it had become one word: Campo.

Ten years after the war the fortunes of the valley began to change. A young German immigrant brought to the valley a sizeable inheritance and a knowledge of firing ceramics. The South was beginning to rebuilding after the war and one of most favored building materials was brick. Richard Astor believed that with his knowledge of firing ceramics and the red clay he found there, he could supply a large number of the bricks needed for reconstruction. Having purchased twenty thousand acres north of the old camp Richard began construction of the first three kilns.

During the construction, Richard learned that having workers travel from Clarksdale, the nearest town, to the site was not an efficient way to do business. Thus he stopped work on one of the kilns and built a boardinghouse for the workers. Then he further delayed construction of the third kilns to build houses for his eventual employees. By the time the first two kilns were ready to fire, Richard had enough houses and the boardinghouse to prevent his employees from having to travel the twelve miles back and forth to Clarksdale on a daily bases.

In Charleston, South Carolina Richard had befriended another young German immigrant named Fred Kosner. Fred had worked in retail his whole life and had married into money. Richard had convinced Fred to join him on this new adventure. He had promised a sizeable amount of land on which Fred would, using his knowledge of the retail business, build a general store to supply the needs of those who would be working at the kilns. Fred built a general store on the property given him by Richard and with his wife's money he purchase the inventory to stock it. Thus the Kosner family became the second most prominent family, next to the Astors in Campo.

Richard and Fred had attempted to call the community Astorville, but, when the locals continued to talk about the kilns at campo, they relented and named the community Campo.

For eighty years Campo could have easily been used as a backdrop for one of Norman Rockwell’s paintings. In the very center of town was the Centerdale Baptist Church with it tall, white steeple which was the very first thing anyone saw when they began to descent into the valley. The rest of the hamlet surrounded the church as the petal of a rose surround its core.

There was the drugstore which was the social gathering for all the young people. Then there was the barbershop where all the men seemed to gather to tell their stories. The old livery stable had been converted into an Esso station where other men gathered to work on their cars. Next to the Esso station stood the hardware store which at one time was the Kosner general store. Next door to that was the new department store that the Kosners had built. Life in Campo had always simple and predictable.

World War I had not even been a hiccup in the life of the hamlet. The market crash and the following depression did have an effect: Richard Astor was no longer running the company, his son Charles was. Charles was no where close to being the business man his father was. Had not Bordon Brick gained control of the company, most likely it would have gone under and the hamlet of Campo with it.

World War II had taken a number of the young men of Campo, but most of them returned, some briefly, others to then live to find another way in the world. Ernest’s mind briefly forget what had happened today and flashed back, seven years, to the day when he, Buford Bucnagle and Harvey Thornton had returned home from the war.

When his mind returned to the present, he compared it to two years earlier and the incident with Miss Flora Bess. Miss Flora Bess Astor was Charles' spinster daughter. The drought that summer had everyone’s nerves on edge. Miss Flora Bess had been found wondering about town in disarray. Many people believed she had been raped by the colored man that had done some work for her. All the talk at the barbershop was what had happened to the handyman. Many speculated that he had been murdered and his body disposed of.

"No! This is worse that the Miss Flora Bess incident," Ernest said aloud as once again the words from that morning slammed into his head.

"I SHOT THE SONS-A-BITCH."

PowerBall: Claiming the Prize

PowerBall: Claiming the Prize

The PowerBall prize was worth 613 million dollars and Cheryl and I had won. We had confirmed this with our attorney in Las Vegas, yet there still remained a problem.

The winning ticket had been purchased in Port Angeles, Washington and had to be redeemed in the state where it was sold. This meant we had to return to Washington, which doesn’t seem to be a great deal. The problem remained that this was Thursday afternoon and Cheryl had to return to work on Monday morning.

Ben ask us to hang on a second while he pulled a cell phone from his desk. When he got no answer he left a voice-mail:"Ben Gregory and need to speak to you, urgent." He told us he had left this message for a friend in Seattle and was certain she could be of assistance. He advised we fly to Seattle on the next flight and be there in the morning. He was certain he could have something set up for us by then.

Then he had his secretary make immediate reservations for Seattle. The earliest she could get us out was at nine o’clock that evening. She had also made reservations at the Airport Marriot. When I thanked him, he assured me it would be on his bill and we could afford it. As we stood to leave, I ask about a financial adviser. Ben said he would be glad to recommend someone on our return.

Back home we began to pack for the flight to Seattle. With nothing firm on the other end of this trip, both of us were a little edgy. Wehn Ben called and affirmed we had an appointment, it was a great relief. The next morning we had an appointment for nine o’clock with a Loretta Furr. They had contacted PowerBall and informed them that she would now be representing us. He advise we carry some nice cloths because he was sure PowerBall would want some publicity out of this even thought we wished this to remain private.

When the taxi stopped in front of the address we had given him, it reminded me of Las Vegas. We were in what had at one time been a residential neighborhood that was now commercial. All the houses remained, but now were offices of lawyers, financial firms and studios. The sign in front of the house we stopped at read: Furr, Furr and Furr Attorneys of Law.

When we entered the front door we were met my a young lady in her early twenties. "You must be the Fletchers." When we acknowledged we were she ask us to sit. "My grandmother is on the phone and will be out shortly. This is the part of this job I hate, but she requires a retainer of 1800 dollars."

As I gave her my credit card I told her no one expected her grandmother to represent them without some fee changing hands. She laughed and told us her name was Molly as she ran my card.

Shortly the door to another room opened and a squat lady, in her mid sixties emerged. Her hair had much more salt than pepper, yet she walked as though the world was her oyster. Shaking my hand she introduced herself as Loretta Furr and ask if we would like some coffee or water. When we told her water would be fine, she ask Molly to bring three water into her office. When we were seated in her office I committed that her granddaughter must be extremely good to be the only receptionist for three attorneys.

"The sign. I should change it but just can’t bring myself to do that. This firm was begun by my father and then my brother joined. They added the third Furr when I graduated from law school, though I never came into the firm. I chose academia instead. After my father passed, my brother, whose health was not great, convinced me it was time I got my hands dirty in the actual practice of the law. I left my position at the UW Law School (that’s where I came to know Benjamin Gregory, I was his faculty adviser) and entered the firm. My brother passed two years ago and I lost a number of clients and refused to accept new ones. Your being here is just a favor to Benjamin."

When I told her how grateful we were, she insisted we get down to business. Her first question was how we stood in the cash flow department. I told her that her retainer had maxed out our credit card and now we had about three hundred in a savings account. Then she informed us that it would most likely take more than that before we could take complete ownership of the winnings. PowerBall had informed her that it sometimes to up to two week to complete all the paperwork necessary.

"I’m sure Molly told you I was on the phone when you arrived. Well, I was talking to my banker at Wells Fargo, and I see you used a Wells Fargo credit card. That’s good. I have arranged for a ten thousand dollar, thirty day loan for you."

When I ask about the bankruptcy, she said that would be no problem since she had arranged to cosign the loan if necessary. "Let me call the PowerBall office here in town and confirm our one o’clock appointment and then we will go to the bank. Also, I’m going to want another 3200 when this is finished. Think you’ll be able to afford it?"

On the way to the bank I ask if there were no other Furrs to continue the practice. No, she was the last and she was semi-retired. She had three clients on retainers and only came to the office for few hours a day. Molly was a one time deal since she didn’t know us.

When we left the bank she ask what company we had our cell phones through. "Some advise: Open a new account under another name; get new numbers and give the new numbers to those very close, including family. Keep the old phones and numbers so you can monitor the calls you want to accept."

Back at her office for lunch Loretta ask if we had a financial adviser. She was glad that Ben was going to recommend someone once we returned to Las Vegas. "Know in general what you want to do and don’t follow someone’s lead, follow their advise. You do the leading."

At the PowerBall office we were informed that since there was only one winner, this could be completed in less than a week’s time. They did want us to be here Monday and Tuesday of next week. When we informed them that Cheryl had return to work, some found that funny: after all we had just won over 600 millions dollars. I assured them that with our generation, this was the right thing to do, regardless of winning a large amount of money. Somewhat disappointed, they preferred both of us in their publicity, they could make do with just me.

Loretta and Molly gave us the residence’s tour, no charge, of Seattle on Saturday. We lunched at the top of the Space Needle. Cheryl flew home Sunday afternoon. I had my ticket changed to an open end.

Back at the Powerball Seattle offices on Monday morning, Loretta and I signed a large amount of papers. I did my interview which I was certain would be most difficult. When the lights came on and the interviewer introduced me I was surprised at how calm I was.

The first question was: "What is it like to suddenly be 613 million dollars richer?" I thought for a moment and then answered that nothing of this magnitude happened to me before so there was nothing to liken it to. Then they ask how I felt. I told them I was still running on adrenaline and to be honest I was wondering what I would feel like once the adrenalinne high subsided.

Then they wanted to know about Cheryl and why she had chosen to return to work. "This is something our generation does, regardless. We have respect for our employer." It was easy to tell everyone in the room thought this ridiculous.

Then they wanted to know what was the first thing that went through my mind when I knew I had won. Everyone looked eager for my response. This one I didn’t have to think about very long. "Now I will be able to visit all the places in Europe where the Navy took me in 1959. Now I would be able to enjoy them for what they really are."

"What’s the place you are looking most forward to seeing again?" That was another easy one. Without a doubt it would be Athens Greece and the Acropolis. "I just wonder how close we will be able to get to the Parthenon today?"

Then they wanted to know about the family. "Just how large is your family and do you plan to include them in you good fortune?" I told them that I was sure that it would be much larger once this was out. I told them that our immediate family consisted of four children, five grandchildren and a great-grandchild. As to how we would include them in our grand fortune, we haven’t come to any conclusive decision.

They also thought it odd that I hoped none of them would learn about this until we had come to some decision and was able to control how they learned about it. I did assure that the immediate family would be included in our great fortune, but the extended family, we owe them nothing. Naturally they wanted to know why the estrangement. "Private family matters."

Then they wondered how often I played PowerBall. "I live in Nevada which doesn’t allow lotteries. Many years ago I did play some scratch lottery in Colorado, but this is my first experience with PowerBall. I had four dollars change coming to me and the clerk said I should get two PowerBall tickets since the prize was approaching 600 million. I just bought the tickets on a whim."

"What of the odds of such a large win on you first experience with PowerBall?" I just laughed and related a story I had read about some years back. This couple was leaving Nevada going into California. They stopped at a casino on the boarder for a bathroom break. The lady put a dollar into a Mega Bucks machine and hit it for over 300 million. I guess I now have something in common with her. After I informed them we had chosen to take the cash value of 337 million the interview ended.

The next morning Loretta and met with more lawyers from PowerBall and the IRS. PowerBall transferred $84,287,500.00, twenty-five percent of our winnings into an IRS account. I assured them that I understood that the IRS would tax the full amount at forty percent and I would be responsible for the remaining fifteen percent. Earlier I had established an additional account with Wells Fargo. PowerBall deposited into that account $252,862,500.00.

When we had finished there Loretta and I went to Wells Fargo. There I opened another account and transferred the additional fifteen percent tax ($50,572,500.00) into that account.

Then Wells Fargo issued me another credit card. When they started to tell me the limit, I told them I didn’t want to know. I paid off the ten thousand dollar line of credit and wrote a counter check for thirty-two hundred dollars, which Loretta deposited into her account.

Back at Loretta’s office I booked a flight for that evening to Las Vegas. Seems most major cities on the west coast have some airline with a direct flight to Vegas every evening. The adrenaline high was starting to subside and I wanted to be home when it was gone. Also, I called Ben’s office and got an appointment for late Wednesday afternoon.

PowerBall: We Won! We Won!

It was a Thursday morning and for the first time in my life I was going to the PowerBall site to see what the winning numbers were. Cheryl and I had once again visited Victoria, Vancouver. As before we had taken the ferry from Port Angeles. Back in Port Angeles on the return trip I had, on a whim and being informed the prize was approaching 600 million, I purchased two PowerBall lottery tickets and put in my numbers. On the first one I decided to use my and Cheryl’s birth dates (3,26,8,10,47 and 39 red ball). On the second I used the birth dates of two grandchildren (3,25,93,8,4 and 11 red ball).

When I found the site I clicked on "Powerball Numbers." The first thing to hit my eyes was the red ball. It was 39. I quickly shut my eyes and turned away from the monitor. "One in ten million or perhaps one in a hundred million has to be the odds that the other five number will be there," I said, out loud, to myself as I was the only one in the study. These are the odds the clerk had given me when he told me the prize was approaching 600 million dollars. 

Slowly I began to look at the monitor again. I tried to see only one number at at time, much as one does when looking at a poker hand by uncovering one card at a time. This proved impossible since I saw two number, 10 and 47, before I could close my eyes again. Six hundred million dollars, I was just wondering if my heart could stand it if the other three numbers were there. I considered waking Cheryl and letting her tell me what the other three numbers were. No, she had said I was crazy and had just wasted four dollars. If I had won and had another heart attack she could enjoy the money with someone else, I thought.

This time I opened my eyes before turning slowly back to the monitor. I saw the 10 and then the 47. Then the third number came into view, 26. My heart skipped a beat. "Damnit, I need to control this," I again said aloud to myself. Then a 3 came into view. To my surprise this time my heartbeat slowed instead of racing. I had never won anything in my life that mounted to more than a token prize.

For some reason my mind went back to my childhood. It was not long after the end of World War II and we were living in a mill house in Clayton, SC. Friends of my parents owned a grocery store and they were giving away a bicycle for Christmas. Boy, did I ever want that bicycle and I knew my parents had put my name in the drawing. Christmas Eve, after my sister and I had gone to bed, there was a knock at the front door. I was just sure that it was Mr. Squire delivering the bicycle. Some time later, I thought it was all night, I finally fell to sleep. The next morning when there was no bicycle in the front room with the Christmas tree, I felt as though there was never to be any luck in my life.

Now, just a few months after turning seventy-four my winning something remained much the same. Why the hell should I be getting excited, the fifth number was not going to be 8. With a quick snap of my head, I viewed all six numbers: 10-47-26-3-8 and the red ball remained a 39. I don’t remember exactly what I did next, but I’m sure there were a few moments of being in another realm.

Once back to reality, I realized that Cheryl was still in bed. I printed out the page and went into the bedroom and woke her. "Aren’t you a little late for April’s Fools?" she ask. When I finally convinced her this was not a joke, she became as excited as I was. Yes, I was excited but I was calm, calm to the point that it surprised me.

What to do? That would have been what most people would think the winner of the PowerBall would be thinking. Not me. I knew exactly what we were going to do first.

The PowerBall site indicated that the prize was 613 million dollars. The cash value was $337, 150, 000.00. The site did not state how many individual tickets had those numbers. For all we knew, we could be the sole winner.

"What do we do now?" Cheryl ask once the excitement had subsided some. I laughed at her. On the way home after I had purchased the tickets, I had tried to play a game with her as what we would do if we happened to win. She had rebuffed those attempts as ridiculous, since the odds were stacked so great against us. Now she was ready to turn her imagination loose. "Let’s call the kids and share this news."

"No, no, no, no. Let’s wait until nine o’clock and call Ben Gregory and get an appointment as soon as possible." Though Cheryl had refused to play the game with me, I had allowed my imagination wonder on the trip home. I knew we needed a lawyer before doing anything.

Ben Gregory had been our lawyer ten years earlier when we declared bankruptcy. I had suffered my second heart attack which forced us to close the retail store. Now if this was actually our prize, I wanted to reimburse all those that had lost money because of us. Also, I wanted to be protected from all those who would want to share our good fortune.

After her second cup of coffee Cheryl was all into the game she had wanted nothing to do with on the trip home. Now it was no longer be a game, but something we have to decide how we’re going to handle. She did agree that we should not share this great news with anyone before we had hired an attorney.

Cheryl looked over her cup and acknowledged I had given this possibility much more thought than she and wanted to know what was in my mind.

I told Cheryl the first thing I thought we should do is work form the cash value. Research showed that the federal taxes would be forty percent. The federal tax on $337, 150, 000.00 would be $134, 860, 000.00. PowerBall would keep twenty-five percent up front and we would be responsible for the remaining fifteen percent. If my figures were correct, Powerball would give the IRS $84, 288,000.00. That meant we needed to set aside $50, 572,000.00 for taxes. That left $202, 290, 000.00 in our pocket.

Now what does a seventy-four year old man and his sixty-six year old wife do with over 202 million dollars? Cheryl said the first thing she would do is quit her job. "What would be your reason?" I ask.

"Two weeks of vacation has spoiled me and shown me it’s time to kick back and do no more than what I want to."

"How much notice would you give them?"

"Let’s make sure we have the money before I make that decision."

I told Cheryl that my daydreaming had been to create a trust fund for the two of us in the amount of 100 million dollars. Then I would set up trust funds of each child in the amount of twenty million. She wanted to know who would have control of these trust funds. I told her it would be she and I as long as one of us was still living. After both of us was gone each child would become Trustee of their individual fund. As to the one for she and I, that was something that the two of us needed to decide together.

Cheryl wanted to know how much I thought the children’s fund would pay the each year. I had been thinking of seventy-five thousand a year. Any amount the trust earned over that would just increase the value of the trust. If any of the children wanted more they would have to contact us, the Trustees, for that. Cheryl thought they should receive what the principle of the fund had earned. I told her to think about it, twenty million, at just four percent would earn 800 thousand. After taxes, they would have at least 350 to 400 thousand. That would just make life to easy for them. We decided to wait until we had the money to make this decision.

Then she ask about the grandchildren. My response to that was: "We’ve been down that road. The grandchildren will need to turn to their parents for any inheritance. That doesn’t mean that we can’t help any grandchild on an individual bases."

As we set down at the table for breakfast, we began to discuss the other twenty-two million. I told her I wanted to make good to everyone we owed money to when we filed bankruptcy; then settle what we owed on the house and the second mortgage. After that we could afford to live anywhere we desired. Heck, we could even have a winter and summer home for that matter.

Then I told her that once all the dust had settled I wanted to visit Europe. Especially the places I had been to in 1959 when I was in the Navy. She then reminded me that we had always said we would like to buy a RV and travel to all the places we wanted to visit here in the US. "Sure, just as soon as we get back from Europe.

By the time we had finished breakfast and cleaned the kitchen it was nine o’clock. I called Ben Gregory’s office and ask for an appointment as soon a possible. The secretary wanted to know the reason. I told her we wished to retain Ben to represent us again concerning the bankruptcy he had handled ten years ago. She told us that the bankruptcy was so far back that we would need another retainer of a thousand dollars. I informed her that was fine and we got lucky again, he had an opening at two thirty that afternoon.

While we agonized through the next five hour we discussed what the 100 million dollar trust fund would be used since we would be left with at least 20 million. I told her I wanted it to be an education fund. "This is found money. If it never goes beyond the two of us, nothing has been lost. How about we create a family trust,20 million, just for members of family’s education. This fund could not be used for anything but the education of family members. The other eighty million would establish a foundation, the Zephyr Education Foundation, for some of the less fortunate to be able to attend colleges or universities they otherwise could not afford. This was another decision we chose to put off until we had the money.

"So it appears you have come into some money and want to make restitution to those involved in your bankruptcy," Ben said as he shook my hand. I acknowledged that was the case if, indeed, we had come into some money.

"Wow!" was his response when I handed him everything we had and told him the value of the prize was 613 million. After looking at what we had, he said we should contact PowerBall and find out for sure. With that he picked up the phone and dialed the number. Twenty minutes passed with him saying very little, just making notes. Then he told the person on the other end of the line that he would get back to them shortly. Then he informed us that we had won and it appeared we were the sole winner.

　

Where is Sarah Palin

Where is Sarah Palin? Where is Gov. Bobby Jindal? It has been alleged that the Minnesota Vikings cut punter Chris Kluwe because of his public support for gay rights. Wouldn’t this be another example of "free speech" being endangered in this country?

Perhaps not. To the best of my memory neither Palin nor the Governor came to the defense of free speech when the United Methodist Church defrocked Rev. Frank Schaefer for his public support for gay rights. In reality I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since both Chris Kluwe and Rev. Schaefer took a public stance in support of gay rights.

What Sarah Palin and Gov. Bobby Jindal have shown here is that the issue is not free speech, the issue is Political Correctness. They have show PC to be a two sided coin. One side are the liberals, on the other side are the conservatives. Neither Chris Kluwe nor Rev. Schaefer were politically correct in the view of Palin or the Governor, so there was no free speech issue involved.

2014, The Year to be Unique

Today is the second day of a new year.

While it physically feels much the same as a week ago, it does give us the mental option to look at things with a different attitude. No longer do we have to look at others and find ourselves disappointed because they are in some way or ways different. It needs to be remembered that no matter how different someone is from you, you are just as equally different from them.

This reminds me of those who say you never come to see me as though they live farther from you than you do from them.

What makes that difference important? Attitude. If our attitude is to appreciate and give value to those that are different, we then give value to our differences from them.

Imagine if every tree were the same, how would we appreciate the majestic beauty of the redwood? We couldn’t because it would no longer exist, it would have the same value as the common shrub.  If every pebble or stone were gold, what value gold?

Being different is what makes each of us an individual. Every individual is unique. Instead of taking pride in that uniqueness, assigning a value to it, most individuals find themselves ashamed of it. They either want to hide it by striving as hard as they can to be like others, or, the try to force others to be like them.

In the end all our efforts are wasted because regardless of the number of differences we manage to eliminate, we remain unique, we remain an individual.

Let’s make 2014 the year we take pride in being unique. Let’s allow being an individual in our own right, becomes popular. If we assign a value to other’s uniqueness, we stand tall and exhibit our own uniqueness.