Daily Archives: August 20, 2010

There Goes I, But for the Grace of God

  • There goes I, except for Grace of God.
    The homeless.
    The convicted.
    The disenchanted.
    The victims.
    The list is endless.
  • Yes, there goes I, except for Grace of God.
    The self enamored.
    The power hunger.
    The poor in spirit.
    Even those with out hope.
  • The list is endless.

Originally written:  December 9 1998

  • There have been so many instances that could have gone
    wrong in my life.  Is it by luck or happenstance or is
    it hard work and a willingness to help others that I am
    not in one of these situations?   Yet, I know there were
    moments when just luck or karma could have a sad
    result.  Sad and bad things happen to very good people.
  • When I see a disadvantaged person my heart goes out to
    them.  I know I could just as easily be standing where
    they are.  The way to live is to live for today and with
    love.  Love for your family and friends helping those
    with less and in need.  
  • I see young people sent to prison for what was considered
    mischief when I was a youngster.   On Guy Fawkes Night
    there was always mischief in the small town and county
    where I grew up.  Tipping over outhouses,  paper
    with cow dung lit on fire and doorbell rang,  door bell
    ringing and leaving.  Yet, when eggs thrown at a house
    stained the house the house was repainted by the culprits. 
    Of a small town of 5 streets there were 3 police cars looking
    for shenanigans with no success. Yet,  New Years
    Eve streamers decorated the park trees in the morning
    after.  We moved away from that small town to a large city
    when I was 11 years old.  I still like small towns.  Oh,
    yes I should mention that my dad was the town marshal
    and a deputy sheriff of county.
  • As a teenager I stepped on a corner of a policeman’s
    yard and then walked up the alley to my house.  My
    friend and I stood in the middle of the alley and talked. 
    I remember we laughed and joked about something at
    the mall.  About that time the policeman living on the
    corner stepped out into the alley and then went back into
    his house.  It was about ten minutes later when 2
    police cars turned into the alley from opposite ends with
    their lights on.  It scared us.  We ran in opposite directions. 
    I between houses and out into a large field.  About that
    time I heard the policemen yell, “Halt or I will shoot.” and
    then a pistol shot.  I kept on running.  Running in fact
    out of my shoes.   I ran for about 1/2 mile in the dark to
    a ditch.  There I stayed for an hour.  It seemed like
    forever.  I, then slowly walked home by roundabout way
    only to be captured as I approached my home.  The first
    question I was asked was; “What happened to your shoes?
    Do you often go out with just your stockings?”
  • I received a very stern lecture from the policeman about
    running from them.  I was informed about the possible
    consequences.  My father was not as generous.  Yet,
    my memory retains one punishment. I had to go the
    next day and apologize to the policeman on the corner
    whose lawn I stepped on.  He was a  Lieutenant on the
    cities police force.  I weeded and mowed his lawn for a
    couple weeks.  Every time I hated every agonizing
    moment of it.  Yet, the lesson was emblazoned upon my
    memory – Don’t mess with a policeman and don’t run away.
    They will catch up to you.
  • The sixteen year old neighbor boy ran into trouble with
    the same policeman.  He squealed his tires turning in
    front of his house.  The policeman warned him but he
    did not pay attention.  Within a couple of weeks he lost his
    license to traffic violations.  The policeman had given his
    car’s license number to other policeman who did him a
    favor of stopping that car anytime they could spot a
    moving violation. When he continued to drive he was
    arrested and spent time in jail.  When he got out he
    was as careful as I was around the neighborhood.
  • Yes,  I was lucky I did not end up in the boys home or
    reformatory as they were called then.  My life would have
    been very different.