an ee-note edged in black

April 10. Three days prior to my 78th birthday. Think of it. In this
man's lifetime we have seen the Working Class reach for the stars, almost
touch them, and falter, falling back with the dagger of their own Prince of
Peace in their back.
Thanks be that my dad and mother did not live to see their labors shredded
and thrown back in their faces. And that goes for all of the towering Labor
Heroes, the field hands, the migrant workers, the sweat shop girls, the dock
hands and longshoremen, So many men and women who rallied behind a strong
president and pushed a Soul into the empty chests of the Aristocracy.
And then we lost our way. We fiddled and danced, making love 'Neath the
moon, spending our free time, the time that had been fought for by those who
went before us, frittered away that free time in silly games. Not paying
attention to our people's needs.
And now we see even those who proclaim that they are Our leaders, sell us
out.
It's a sad, sad day indeed.

Carl Jarvis

***
"We do not inherit the land from
our ancestors, we borrow it from our children."