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.