Such powerful words and voices point in the direction to follow
Song
by Charles Billingsley. Singers (From left) Jack Wilkins, Alley
Faulk singing with the Twin Lakes church choir and orchestra on Good
Friday 2012. Beautiful service, and a powerful song.
| 1917-1918
Grandpa is old, real old.
Nancy knew that because he had fought in a war called The Great War, the war he said was so big that it would end all wars. Her dad went to fight another war. War? What is war?
Nancy watched as Grandpa spread out his left hand. He had big old wrinkly hands, with rough calluses and gnarled fingers, like any old man. But she had never noticed the drawn white scars of burns, horrible burns.
He lay a thin paper on the white scars, opening it with his other hand. Again, she stared at it, in awe of the stripes and crude stitching it bore from wounds earned long ago. Her four year old mind could not form any questions about scars, old and twisted. Grandpa reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt, retrieving a drawstring bag. Fingers moved slowly, easing open the drawstring, and then pouring a line of tobacco.
His hands never shook, not for one second. They held steady and still as Grandpa licked the edge of the paper. Hands so badly scarred had continued for fifty years, working, caressing, holding hands, living. Fascinated, Nancy watched as Grandpa placed the cigarette on a lip. Oh. Nancy gazed up at Grandpa, his creased face told nothing about the day. Grandpa was always silent around her, having nothing to say to a little girl.
He struck a match and lit up, breathing deeply. She stared at his thoughtful expression and troubled eyes.
An old man walked by, tipped his hat to Grandpa. Grandpa just nodded back, not even looking at him. “Who’s he?” Nancy asked.
Grandpa blew out a ring of smoke. “He’s a Goddamn coward. His pa paid some other man to go fight instead of his own son. Sonabitchgoddam coward…couldn't spit on his own shoe, and other words that Nancy did not understand.
“What’d you do in a war, Grandpa?” Nancy whispered, wide eyes searching for pale blue eyes staring off at the sonabitch.
Nancy nodded. The two sat there, one smoking and the other gazing as the smoke disappeared around them.
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So far, we have had Twitter, Tweet, Facebook, and perhaps-more big industries-to-come. Google? Their business practices came back to bite them and their days of revealing, deleting, gerrymandering (an interesting word and meaning) I have never understood. The definition is a silent, quiet word, one that isn’t tossed around casually. Why, I wonder.
[ˌjerēˈmandəriNG]Here are some synonyms:
manipulating, cheating, pettifoggery, rigging, corruption, falsifying, manipulation, fraud, and more.
What struck me is that there are no synonyms below, just antonyms:
honor, oath, justice, integrity, honesty, sincerity, truth, and more.Basically, being called a gerrymander is a negative thing as part of its meaning.
Being called truthful is a positive thing as part of it definition.
Are you a gerrymander or honest? Pettifoggery or sincerity? Manipulate or guide?
https://libraries.uta.edu/ettahulme/image/20111236
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