Sugar Creek Publishing

IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

# 140

“Sad and Glad”

February 5, 2013
POSTED TWO MONTHS LATE DUE TO ILLNESS – SORRY!

For all the hype issued forth before the event, the exorbitant cost of Super Bowl Commercials hawking all kinds of consumer goods was eclipsed by a tasteful memoir featuring Paul Harvey and the forgotten 2% of the populace: the American farmers. Congratulations to Chrysler for their excellent commentary on behalf of their product as a tribute to the men and women who feed us — not to mention a good part of the world.

The Budweiser Clydesdales always hit the target. The episode with the foal growing up and spotting his owner alongside a parade route and then running down the street to find him was one of the best! The other memorable beer ad featured everyone wearing black in a restaurant or bar serving adult beverages, but the cast of characters was behaving nicely. That’s more than I can say for some of the others in the obscenely priced ads.

Aside from that piece, two were also not over the top. Hyundai, Volkswagen, and “Got Milk” were not only funny, but also to the point. On the other side of the equation, it serves as justice if the sponsors of the following commercials lose more customers than they could hope to gain.

For those of us Butler fans, it was a thrill to spot a “24” on a Butler jersey among other photos highlighting the number 24.

Audi should be ashamed of itself. Focused was a teenage boy with no respect for authority (using the principal’s parking space and smiling about it), acting like a boor on the dance floor by grabbing a teenage girl, and then — sporting a black eye from her date — happily speeding away in his parents’ car. My, my, isn’t that special? (Shades of The Church Lady!) If that weren’t enough, enter a high profile woman race driver and the bottom f the barrel when it comes to an ad.

Perhaps GoDaddy.com doesn’t know how many small children watch the Super Bowl game and its attendant advertising. The whole scenario was erotic and unnecessary — filmed to shock more than to inform. If this is their business plan, it is a poorly devised one. Then we have Hardee’s, a firm with excellent food. What possessed them to follow in the footsteps of Carl’s Jr. of California? Oh, sorry about that, Sara Underwood did both commercials. These ads were not only disrespectful but illustrate how shallow public relations people have become.

The last time I saw someone like Sara Underwood on the beach, the fare was more like a cool tall one and a salad. Downing food like that does not lead to a figure like hers, folks. Take a look at the customers in a burger joint next time you go. See a lot of girls with figures like Sara Underwood? Hardly.

And then there’s Oreo. Egad! As if it weren’t enough to lose Twinkies to a union disagreement. Now, Oreos — a tradition in many homes over generations — stoops to a commercial in which adults turn over tables like spoiled brats and destroy a library. Oh, I forgot. These computer geeks who devise these commercials don’t need libraries. They just upload books to their devices.

Well, I hope they are left TO their devices.

Don’t these people realize that they influence small children? Maybe they do. Maybe they are cultivating future customers. How sad. Yet the game left me glad, too.

As to specifics, nobody will know if the outcome would have been different minus the 30-minute-plus power failure interruption. Yet, it is what it is. I had no dog in the hunt, as they say. The smile after the game was reserved for the Tuohy family and Michael Oher who hail from Old Miss and were the featured family in Sandra Bullock’s heartwarming film “The Blind Side.”

Who says that dreams don’t come true? Oh, I know that huge amounts of money go toward the Super Bowl every year, but competition also fuels the coffers of the host city and instills a sense of pride in fans. I spite of that, it remains an American tradition that commands a huge audience and equal enthusiasm for the sport of football. Not for the faint of heart, it meshes critical decision-making and athletic ability. Would that our politicians at least use the former. Think about it.

IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

# 139

“Prayer — A Journey”

February 11, 2013

I am a big believer in prayer. I know I must have prayed for small favors when I was a child, but as I grew to womanhood and became a wife and mother, my prayers changed.

In the middle 1960s, I watched my country torn apart by racial violence. I remember two photos vividly. The first was a group of small black girls walking to Sunday school. As I recall, a church explosion had cost precious lives. My family prayed to see all people live freely and share the American dream together.

As background, let me state a fact. My community was an oasis in that sea of unrest. Oh, there were undoubtedly small incidences of prejudice and disrespect, but — on the whole — our town and its county remained peaceful. Given that, I am sure the homes of our Negro friends and neighbors harbored uneasy feelings.

When I was five, my father hired someone to help at his woodworking business and lend a hand with heavy work in the garage and in the yard. The teenager’s name was Lawrence Brown, and he endeared himself to the entire family in short order. I can still see him walking down the driveway, full of enthusiasm and a disarming smile.

Lawrence died a few years back, but I didn’t know in time to go to the calling. Because he had moved to Cincinnati, we lost track of him. He was such a kind person, and my folks never gave race a second thought.

When I was eight, we moved to Florida, where we lived for the better part of two years. It was 1952. One day my father took me Food Fair in North Miami. As we neared the entry, a man and his children stepped off the sidewalk for us. My father stopped in his tracks and said, “You don’t have to do that for me, son.” The man smiled and glanced around at the others on the street. He replied, “That’s good of you, but I need to.” I looked up at my father, and the man slid on by, kids in tow. As he passed my father, he whispered, “Thank you sir. That means a lot.”

Once back in the car, my father stressed how wrong it was for folks to be treated hat way. I had seen the signs. I knew what he meant, and it took years for society to change such treatment.

Papa always put things simply. Here’s one statement I’ve never forgotten. “You didn’t choose who you were born, and neither did anyone else.” How true that is.

When I was a teenager, the phone rang and it was a man who wanted to apply for a job at the factory where my father was plant manager. Papa told him to come to the plant early the next morning. The man hesitated and then he said that he there was something my father needed to know.

You see, he explained “I’m colored.” “Oh,” Papa replied, “what do you mean?” The man said “Well, I’m a Negro, you know, I’m brown.” I can still see the look on Papa’s face as he continued to talk with that man. His voice was soft and gentle.

“I’m sure you glad you told me, because if you had showed up purple or green or something, I’m not sure how I what I would have done.” Later,
Papa told Mama he heard a sigh of relief in the man’s voice. And what happened? Papa hired him. Papa liked him. Papa respected him. They respected one another.

Armed with that upbringing, I set out into the world to work on my own. Because I graduated from high school at 16, I worked and went to college at night. My first job was, in many ways, my most interesting. At 18 I took a job at Larue Carter Hospital, a short-term mental hospital on the west side of
“The Medical Center.” Our secretarial pool typed up medical histories and consultations for medical students of the IU Medical School. My coworkers were lovely women, and most were black. Two were talented seamstresses. I know my sewing, too, because my grandmother was the best seamstress in my hometown and maintained quite a clientele among the town’s ladies.

It took a little while for the women to feel comfortable around me, but soon we got along as if we had been lifelong friends. Lunch chats among us were lively, and the hospital cafeteria offered really good food. I know that picking
favorites is frowned upon, but I had one at work. I will never forget her, and even today, I can close my eyes and see her face.

Her name was Omilee Chandler, and I would be tickled pink if I could see her again. She lived in a two-story frame home close to where the IU Natatorium now stands. Her mother was wheelchair bound and her brother was in the Navy. He sent money home to his family on a regular basis. Omilee’s mother was a very nice. I know because I went to their home one evening

My plan to attend a concert at Clowes Hall did not enough time to drive home, change clothes, and make it on time. A night student at Butler, I loved performances in that beautiful acoustic wonder of a building.

I was curious about Omilee’s home, and I was a bit nervous as I left the parking lot and headed about two blocks south. The neighborhood was quiet and lined with houses of similar size and shape, but theirs was neater than most. The wide boards on the front porch were cleanly swept. The windows sparkled. As I parked the car and walked toward the steps, a lace curtain parted in one of the front windows. A frail hand withdrew when I knocked on the door. Omilee greeted me and led me to a room where I could change. The house was spotless and it was clear that it was also full of love.

On a daily basis, Omilee would awaken early and see to her mother, fix lunch and place it on a low icebox shelf, and head for work. After that day, I never saw her mother again. It was easy to see how close the two of them were. It could not have been easy for Omilee, but her cheerfulness was contagious.

Omilee was single at the time, and I sometimes wonder if she ever found a man who appreciated her for the woman she was. I hope so. Odds were high that she knew peers who were domestic workers. I can’t prove it, but there were smart girls among them, too. Due to circumstance, they had no chance to go on to college or trade school. I paid my own way and went at night, but even that opportunity would have been very rare for those girls.

On a personal level, in my younger years, I often visited with women in my own community who worked in the “big houses” around town. Inevitably, I would be at a party and gravitated to the kitchen, where I chatted with ladies I consider some of the best cooks I ever knew! What’s more, I would spot them in the grocery stores, downtown at the big three-story hardware store and at the high school basketball games. My church, The First Presbyterian Church, sat about a block away from Second Baptist, the local black church.

It’s important to note that the first local black church was built in the 1800s through the efforts of the white community. Townsfolk came together with fund-raisers and dinners in order for their neighbors to have a house of worship to call their own. Many of those early Negro residents came from Kentucky, and they found in Shelby County not only a largely peaceful atmosphere, but also welcoming wider community. A world away from the Old South, such small towns among the Midwestern states proved life-changing to the newcomers. Christian values came first, ethnicity second.

The work opportunities were not only restricted to working for others, either. I cite the local tailor shop, owned and run by the same black family for nearly a hundred years. A community fixture, the shop and its personnel are well respected for dependable, excellent service and fine work.

At the heart of our county’s welcome was love for one’s fellow man. Face it, if you find yourself in dire straits and a hand reaches to pull you up, it makes no difference the color of that hand.

For those of you familiar with my first book, Net Prophet – The Bill Garrett Story, it is not news that our local high school posed no threat to its Negro (the term of the time) students. I am proud of my town and, even though isolated cases of bias and unjust actions may be found, I respect the record of its people over time.

Each domestic workingwoman in my town was a person you would have enjoyed. In this Black History Month, it is incumbent on those of us who witnessed the changes forged from segregation through integration to shout from the rooftops that each person deserves judgment solely on merit.

As I end this column, I must focus on a special lady who worked for many years as a domestic in Indianapolis in the home of parents of a dear friend. Sadly, I met her when she was nearly retirement age, so I caught just a glimpse of her wit and a taste of her culinary expertise. Her name was Epsie Mae and she made the best chicken salad in the western hemisphere! Her soft, gentle voice made you feel so good when you walked into that elegant house. My friend considered her family, and I’m sure Epsie Mae felt the same.

There was ease about her — an elegance honed over a lifetime. To me, she was more than an employee in that large home. She wore many hat — the picture of kindness… a marvelous cook… an expert in child-rearing…. Her work was not only honorable and highly appreciated, but — in the case of my friend’s family — well compensated.

Epsie Mae loved those folks, and they loved her. From childhood, the family children adored her. That special relationship was based on trust and confidence, of course, but it went further than that. It was based on love. I wonder if today’s staffers working among the “big houses” in Indianapolis share that kind of a relationship. When Epsie Mae died, a part of my friend’s family died with her. Such was their bond.

Happily, we now recognize black women in their success and we number them among our nation’s most successful professionals. Today’s black women have come a long way from the domestic jobs exposed in the movie “The Help.” Yet, the characters in that film have a lot to teach us.

If you haven’t watched it, do. Even in harsh times, faith served them well. Their journey etches yet another chapter into our American story. Faith was central to their lives. They prayed. They prayed a lot. If you haven’t prayed lately, why not do it? Prayer is journey — and one without equal.

As for me, as a Christian, my prayer today is that we — as a people and as a nation — not only seek but also achieve the peace God offers us and that we encourage others, regardless of their background, a hand up. We won’t regret it. Remember that Golden Rule. We are all God’s children. Think about it.

IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

# 140

“Sad and Glad”

February 5, 2013

For all the hype issued forth before the event, the exorbitant cost of Super Bowl Commercials hawking all kinds of consumer goods was eclipsed by a tasteful memoir featuring Paul Harvey and the forgotten 2% of the populace: the American farmers. Congratulations to Chrysler for their excellent commentary on behalf of their product as a tribute to the men and women who feed us — not to mention a good part of the world.

The Budweiser Clydesdales always hit the target. The episode with the foal growing up and spotting his owner alongside a parade route and then running down the street to find him was one of the best! The other memorable beer ad featured everyone wearing black in a restaurant or bar serving adult beverages, but the cast of characters was behaving nicely. That’s more than I can say for some of the others in the obscenely priced ads.

Aside from that piece, two were also not over the top. Hyundai, Volkswagen, and “Got Milk” were not only funny, but also to the point. On the other side of the equation, it serves as justice if the sponsors of the following commercials lose more customers than they could hope to gain.

For those of us Butler fans, it was a thrill to spot a “24” on a Butler jersey among other photos highlighting the number 24.

Audi should be ashamed of itself. Focused was a teenage boy with no respect for authority (using the principal’s parking space and smiling about it), acting like a boor on the dance floor by grabbing a teenage girl, and then — sporting a black eye from her date — happily speeding away in his parents’ car. My, my, isn’t that special? (Shades of The Church Lady!) If that weren’t enough, enter a high profile woman race driver and the bottom f the barrel when it comes to an ad.

Perhaps GoDaddy.com doesn’t know how many small children watch the Super Bowl game and its attendant advertising. The whole scenario was erotic and unnecessary — filmed to shock more than to inform. If this is their business plan, it is a poorly devised one. Then we have Hardee’s, a firm with excellent food. What possessed them to follow in the footsteps of Carl’s Jr. of California? Oh, sorry about that, Sara Underwood did both commercials. These ads were not only disrespectful but illustrate how shallow public relations people have become.

The last time I saw someone like Sara Underwood on the beach, the fare was more like a cool tall one and a salad. Downing food like that does not lead to a figure like hers, folks. Take a look at the customers in a burger joint next time you go. See a lot of girls with figures like Sara Underwood? Hardly.

And then there’s Oreo. Egad! As if it weren’t enough to lose Twinkies to a union disagreement. Now, Oreos — a tradition in many homes over generations — stoops to a commercial in which adults turn over tables like spoiled brats and destroy a library. Oh, I forgot. These computer geeks who devise these commercials don’t need libraries. They just upload books to their devices.

Well, I hope they are left TO their devices.

Don’t these people realize that they influence small children? Maybe they do. Maybe they are cultivating future customers. How sad. Yet the game left me glad, too.

As to specifics, nobody will know if the outcome would have been different minus the 30-minute-plus power failure interruption. Yet, it is what it is. I had no dog in the hunt, as they say. The smile after the game was reserved for the Tuohy family and Michael Oher who hail from Old Miss and were the featured family in Sandra Bullock’s heartwarming film “The Blind Side.”

Who says that dreams don’t come true? Oh, I know that huge amounts of money go toward the Super Bowl every year, but competition also fuels the coffers of the host city and instills a sense of pride in fans. I spite of that, it remains an American tradition that commands a huge audience and equal enthusiasm for the sport of football. Not for the faint of heart, it meshes critical decision-making and athletic ability. Would that our politicians at least use the former. Think about it.

IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

On line Column # 138

January 28, 2013

“One Hundred Eighty Degrees of Difference”

Last week’s decision to allow women in combat positions prompted a lot of discussion among civilians and military alike. Since American history lost its prominence in our schools and most Americans know little of it, I am not surprised that ignorance rules.

Among the Revolutionary, Civil War, and Mexican War troops were women, disguised as men and using aliases.

During World War I, more than 20,000 women served and 400 died. World War II saw the numbers climb to 350,000. Of those more than 60,000 served as Army nurses and over 4,000 as Navy nurses. The WAACs, formed in 1942, served overseas in England, France, Australia, New Guinea and the Philippines.

Research confirms that 67 Army nurses captured in the Philippines were held as Japanese POWs for nearly three years. The Japanese also captured some Navy nurses during the war.

Nurses served in every conflict, often wounded or killed in action. The impressive Washington, D.C. memorial to nurses speaks volumes and complements the Vietnam and World War II Memorials to honor those who gave their lives to defend America and freedom for all people.

The Army wasn’t alone either. Alongside the Navy, the Marines and Coast Guard also formed reserve units for women. Further strides were made over the years and in 2012, more than 14% of the military was made up of women. Over 165,000 are enlisted personnel and well over 35,000 serve as officers. The recent Panetta decision reverses the 1994 ban on combat assignments for women.

While discussion, undoubtedly, will continue ad nauseum, there is a valid point to one argument. It is a stretch to imagine a woman pulling a 200-pound-plus comrade from harm’s way. In addition, the specter of torture for a female outstrips that of a male when dealing with militant Islam.

I seldom reflect on past columns, but one written in 2004, a few years after the outbreak of the Gulf War, is germane at this point. Entitled, “Does Alma Matter?” (a take off on Alma Mater), the text is self-explanatory.

The Shelbyville News
IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

“Does Alma Matter?”

Published 02-26-04

Word Count: 745

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I’m as far from what society terms a “feminist” as one can be. I enjoy being a woman, to be truthful; I have earned the moniker of “Doris Domestic.” I adore sewing and knitting, and among my favorite household chores are washing windows and ironing. Are you beginning to get the picture? Good. I want you to understand my perspective before I launch into this column.

Have you ever wondered precisely what propels civilization to greatness? Is it raw power? How about ideology? Maybe it’s strategic location or natural resources. Perhaps, but despite the fact that political scientists cite these factors as seminal, I offer another slant to the picture — a slant that should make you stop and think.

History illustrates that when a civilization relegates women solely to child bearing, manual labor, and a social status on par with livestock, true progress escapes its grasp. Oh, a country may prosper for a time, but without true respect between the sexes, progress is close to nil.

From early beginnings, nations rose and fell — many times on their own swords. Military might pushed groups forward until others developed a better weapon or amassed a larger army. Some societies isolated boys from their families and trained them as soldiers. Want to guess what kind of husbands THEY made once they returned home?

Asian societies placed some women in high station and ignored others. Consider the Geisha and the wife in pre-World War II Japan. After the war, women flooded universities and their talents helped to fuel the virtual rebirth of the Japanese economy. Today, Japan boasts women scientist, physicians, and engineers who compete with the best men in the world.

It is rare to see a Japanese woman walking behind her husband today. Yet, such a change came over centuries, not decades — and only after the introduction of Western culture.

Poverty is the key in underdeveloped nations. In these often forgotten places, few people muse over the division of labor. Simply staying alive poses daunting challenges to struggling people, and countless children die before the age of five. In the real Third World, to draw comparisons between men and women is futile.

Military dictatorships illustrate distinctly different situations. Africa finds itself plagued with such governments. Genocide is not uncommon, and worldwide media pay little attention to what goes inside the borders. Merely traveling within such countries exposes reporters to mortal danger. Charities that focus on human rights abuses in such countries find it hard to estimate the human costs of guns over butter — as if butter were a food choice anyway!

Consider Afghanistan under the Taliban. Government stripped widows of their husbands’ property and relegated them to beg in the streets. Sadly, many resorted to selling their own bodies. Covered from head to toe, these desperate women peered at the world through tiny mesh screens in heavy birkas. Any hope for dignity died with their husbands.

When the Taliban came to power, women government officials, as well as women doctors and engineers, lost their jobs. The society began to disintegrate from within. By the time US forces helped to liberate the Afghani people from the clutches of the religious extremists, infrastructure had crumbled and business had suffered mightily.

In The Middle East, “female castration” remains a common right of passage for girls. Often done with no medical training and with not anesthetic, the horrific procedure deprives women of the ability to enjoy a sexual physical relationship with a partner. Some claim that the practice stems from men’s fears that wives will stray from marital bonds. Even if that is true, the act itself brands the people who condone it as well as those who perform it. I find it hard to put an adjective to their inhumanity.

No society is perfect, yet America comes as close as many think possible. Law disallows discrimination on the basis of gender. Year by year, women’s wages creep upward, and that legendary “glass ceiling” has a few cracks in it. I wouldn’t trade places with the women who push to make it to the top, but neither would I purposefully hold them back. I do question the undeserved label placed on those who choose to stay home and rear their children. Motherhood merits the highest praise.

Why not use the position of women as a measure of societal progress? If Alma doesn’t matter, shouldn’t she? (End of column)

Minus the statement about homemakers, the entire subject begs one statement: The way a society or culture treats its women and children speaks volumes. Basics are basics.

We put our women on the front lines, fighting. Muslims put their women (and children!) as human shields. They know we value life. They boast that they value death. They also know we consider the lives of innocents even at the height of battle. Indeed, there is a 180º difference between America and Militant Islam.

As with any characteristic, valuing women and human life can and will be turned against us. Our high standards put us at risk. I hope that such risk doesn’t exact a terrible price on those women who volunteer to fight for us. We owe them as much respect as the men who serve alongside them. Think about it.

IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

# 136

“Closed for business…”

Driving across America is not what it once was. The tiny hamlets with bustling shops are, for the most part, gone. Larger towns, once packed with active storefronts, now stand gaunt…. stores closed, sidewalks overgrown with weeds, once-proud filling stations empty with some advertising gasoline for a pittance of the current cost.

Moreover, the climate is not relegated to the small business sector. The outskirts of the great manufacturing centers of the 1940s and 1950s are idle. Rusty hulks of huge buildings cast their shadows over empty parking lots. Decrepit wire fences bear testament to once-busy enterprises where thousands labored to turn out goods proudly stamped “Made in America.”

These scenes replicate state after state. A number of years ago I wrote a column in which I claimed that the most endangered species among us is the small businessperson. I still stand by that claim.

Our media claim that the unemployment figures are around 9%. However, there is more to the story. Folks are dropped off the reported lists of unemployed after completing 52 weeks of the current 99-week unemployment period. Moreover, if you add to that number those who have dropped out of the job search, the end result is likely more than 20%.

You won’t hear that on the mainstream news channels. That’s more than sad. It’s irresponsible. When they can tout the fact that a toad is more important than Central California farmers, they could go to the trouble of figuring out just how many people are out of work. Right?

For the first time in my life I fear for the way of life that America exemplified throughout its history. We are at a crossroads. Unless, and until, voters heed the sage old saying “There is no free lunch,” we will slide down that famous slippery slope to economic oblivion.

Workers built this country. Early on, government limited the relief for the out of work and charitable organizations and churches cared for the poor. Rules allowed business to work but and benefit from progress and innovation. I’d wager that, fifty years ago, few merchants had to worry about having a broom every so many square feet. OSHA probably has rules that do make sense, but so many of them are just bunk!

Get government out of the picture! Allow business to thrive. Open up our energy reserves. Encourage America to become more energy independent. Enforce our borders and mandate all immigrants learn to speak and write the English language. Lower the corporate tax rate so our companies will not move overseas.

Late last year, AON announced a move from Chicago to London, saving the company $100 million in taxes. Well, if the tax rate were lower, entities such as AON would pay less but they would still be here TO PAY. America would benefit in the long run.

Many merchants operate on high volume at low prices. We need a flat tax minus the plethora of loopholes. All who earn also pay. All of them! Even those at the low end of the pay scale should pay some taxes. That way, they feel as if they participate in the system. It is common sense that it is more important to earn something than to have it handed to you. Personal achievement makes you a better person.

It doesn’t take rocket science. The list isn’t long, but it is meaty.
First, instill the pride of country in our youngsters… the value of freedom… a healthy respect for authority…. Second, utilize all levels and genres of education to stress that business is best that operates with the highest ethics, that honesty IS the best policy. Third, don’t expect government to solve all your problems, but rely on government to do those things you cannot do for yourself: national security, stable currency, military defense.

I wonder… how much money American business, as a whole, would save if it didn’t have to monitor for corporate sabotage, employee theft, and downright lying? There are ten rules for life, but they step across the line into the realm of religion — a step too far for the politically correct crowd.

One truth holds. Government is best that governs least. We have lost that.

If we don’t regain it, we will lose far more. It is a ghastly thought, but it will take nothing less than an economic catastrophe to awaken Americans to the impact of a growing and unrestrained government. Think about it.

IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

# 135 – January 7, 2013

“Foundations”

Every civilization on this planet claims a foundation. Basically, each is twofold: language and faith. Consider these. Italy: Italian, Catholicism. Spain: Spanish, Catholicism. Saudi Arabia: Arabic, Islam.

Among all nations, ours is unique. America not only boasts an amalgam of varied nationalities, but also a duality in faith. United States of America: English, Judeo-Christian.

Again, I emphasize that these two foundations are seminal to any people. Yet, today, the powers that be seem intent on dismantling both. What do you think would happen if Americans moved to Italy in great numbers and petitioned the native population to adopt English, insisting that advertising and store signage reflect the change? Fat chance.

Why, then, should we — when we find ourselves buried financially under the exploding burden of providing services to illegal immigrants — be forced to provide bi-lingual education in our schools? Keep in mind that added language is not Spanish alone. Depending on the district, many other languages are added every year. Add to this the escalating medical costs (consider the indebtedness of California alone!), and it is no secret that immigration is the antithesis of the poem by Emma Lazarus.

Oh, America still beckons “… your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”. But these illegals do not come solely for opportunity. Instead, they find it “opportune” to sneak across the border and take advantage of all manner of benefits.

Just exactly what part of “illegal” do those pushing for “reform” of our immigration laws not understand? How many foreign nationals waiting to come to the USA legally are frustrated by the cavalier attitude of a federal government that ignores high numbers coming across the border illegally?

Are we to simply ignore all these legal applicants in favor of those that sneak across the border and then beg the government to stay? How sad. The Constitution outlines that the federal government provide for “the common defense,” yet it even fails to secure its own borders.

No nation can sustain such a situation indefinitely.

It’s about time that American citizens of Hispanic background stand up and demand that those coming here illegally not be afforded the same welcome as those who come through proper channels — often waiting years to do so. There is right and there is wrong. Illegal entry is wrong!

I feel as if I am living in a time warp where wrong is right and right is wrong. Some states condone same sex marriages, legalized marijuana. One paper actually had the nerve to print the names of legal gun owners, but they did not publish lists of sexual offenders or felons who committed gun crimes.

According to John Lott, less than one-tenth of one percent of gun owners link to gun crimes. Who commits the other 99.99 percent? You got it. Criminals. What makes you think that stricter gun laws will keep criminals from obtaining weapons?

Consider technology, too. A Google map of addresses where guns are located simply provides an easy guide for criminal types that either want to know where to avoid an armed homeowner or where to steal guns? Great plan, huh?

The disintegration of our justice system to the point where judges legislate from the bench instead of adjudicating cases solely based on law is appalling. Maybe you haven’t thought about it, but the 1960s hippies and radicals that worried their elders folks fifty years ago now occupy a growing number of elected offices and judgeships across the nation.

I wonder if an old adage holds. You’ve heard it. “The inmates are in charge of the asylum.” I don’t know many of these people, and I have no right to question their sanity. I do, however, question their actions. I am reminded of another truism. Everyone is entitled to his own opinions, but not to his own facts.

Sound judgment must be based on law and on morality. Once this nation was known for both. Today, we have lost one and we watch as the other crumbles on the altar of “political correctness.”

Personally, I wish I had never heard the term. It is offensive. I judge it an excuse for poor decision-making. “If it feels good, do it” will never hold up as a basis for effective governance.

Isn’t it about time that we demanded (not requested) that those in leadership really lead? What I see is “weedership”, not leadership. While “weedership” may not be a term you have heard before; but it is my creation, and it is apt.

Consider my logic. Weeds invade a pristine field and, over time, ruin it from within. Today, we witness the fruits of several decades of the weeds among us. Their numbers have grown.

They operate by their own rules, too. When one of them is accused of moral lapses or crimes, peers laugh and look the other way — only to crucify those of the opposition party for even the smallest infraction.

Media only adds to the problem, as it regularly ignores gross dereliction of duty and moves to further demean and marginalize those of conservative viewpoint. If a politician doesn’t comport to a liberal view, he or she is ignored, criticized or, chastised publicly.

Liberals, long in charge of education, have bequeathed us a real mess. Now, due to their influence, we must live with the results of an election that — more than anything else — illustrates the danger of an uninformed and ill-educated electorate.

Celebrity should never outrank ability. Yet, it did. Nobody wanted to hear the truth. They wanted a fairy tale. Bill Clinton’s 2008 primary words to describe his wife’s opponent for the Democratic presidential nomination come back to haunt us.

Sadly, I doubt if much will change over the next four years. Yet, we can withstand a lot as a nation.

History proves it. Abraham Lincoln, had he lived, would have been far easier on the South than Johnson was considering the chasm that existed between the north and the south in the wake of t
he Civil War. Today, however, the rift is a far different one, and in many ways, even more dangerous. The present chief executive is busily dividing America by every means possible — by economic status, by ethnicity, by gender, and by age. Nice plan, huh? It takes little to inspire envy and hate.

Remember, this nation was not founded on negatives. The United States was founded on positives.

A background in political science does no good when assessing this administration. More than anything else, common sense falls on its face.

To find the term “common good,” one must only go to the works of Marx and Hegel. Am I comparing the mindset of these folks to Communists? Well, if the shoe fits, wear it.

Socialists and communists always claim to work for the “common good,” but the good seldom comes. Moreover, the poor (whom they claim to champion) suffer the most. The richest stay rich (provided they ally with the powers that be) and the poor grow even poorer.

The Bible tells us that all the governments will fall in the end times, but I had hoped it might be on someone else’s watch and not mine. Remember the house built on sand? It fell. Only a house built on rock withstands the storm. America has stood for years built on a rock of limited government. My most fervent hope is that that rock weathers the coming storm. And it IS coming.

What’s that sound? A rock cracking? Think about it.

IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

December 22, 2012

“Where do YOU stand?”

My husband and I have a regular discussion about a subject widely ignored by our church and many others. I once rose and asked the question, but the response was tepid and not at all germane in substance.

Let me ask you. “Where do YOU stand? There is a war on Christianity and nobody steps into the pulpit to address it — at least not in my denomination. I took heart when the Catholic Bishop in New York City railed against the government. They very idea that our nation could force Catholic hospitals to offer health care that went against their core beliefs is ridiculous.

As Christians, we pose a threat. We stress the work ethic, respect for authority, and the traditional family. What’s more, we live our lives by ten rules that scare the pants off these people.

We know sin and we call it out as such. We refuse to accept the fracture of the American family. We espouse the role of a mother and father in a household. Remember, it was Adam and Eve in the garden, not Adam and Jeeve. Had that arrangement held, humanity would met an early end.

The very fact that we honor a higher power puts — for the want of a term they would appreciate — the “fear of God” into these folks, despite the fact that none of them would own up to THAT description.

Demeaning Christians and diminishing belief in God must give these folks some sort of comfort, but I think there is more to it than that.

Fear is quite the motivator. We don’t follow God’s laws because we fear God. We follow Him because we love and respect him. Most of the spokespeople who rant and rave against Christianity focus on self. Everything is self-centered and nothing else holds sway over their destiny.

Why don’t pastors of major denominations stand up and fight for their faith? As my grandfather would have quipped, “Makes no sense to me.” We pause to remember Jesus’ birth at Christmas and his resurrection at Easter, but do we live as it we witnessed either or both events? Most of us do not.

Jesus died for us. Why can’t we stand up for Him? As you take time out from Christmas parties and festive gatherings, remember that you have a bigger job than wrapping gifts or hosting dinners. You owe God more than an hour a week. Beyond living a good life and setting a good example, you need to take time to stand up against the forces that seek to crush the Christian faith.

The fact that few of us hear this from the pulpit is discouraging, but that can change — if we move for it! I am unfamiliar with non-denominational churches, but national denominations ignore this war against Christianity.

Those who wish to silence us are not only loud, but they also don’t mind making fools of themselves. It is hard to be steadfast and polite, but we CAN do it. Make this Christmas the one that begins a new chapter in your life. Deny atheists, secularists and nonbelievers any success. Ask your church leaders to speak out when they see local or state decisions moving to diminish personal faith.

When you greet people, wish each and every one of them a Merry Christmas. If I hear “Happy Holidays” one more time…. Well, you know how I feel, because you probably feel the same way.

When we allow Christmas to be watered down, we only fuel those hateful elements within our culture that work against us. If your faith is important to you, stand up for it!

Merry Christmas. Happy Birthday, Jesus. As Tiny Tim said, “God bless us every one.”

IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

“Decision Time”

December 21, 2012

Long ago I emulated my mother in her love of history and far away places. Among the cultures of concentration was the Mexico’s Mayan. Their calendar far outstrips anything of its time and was the forerunner of today’s accurate time-keeping. Also of interest is the Mayan artwork, some of which shows images that closely resemble modern depictions of astronauts — including helmets, air packs and vehicles.

Their announcement of today as the beginning of a new age may well be true. Time will tell, as they say. Yet, the prospect of the end of the world or a definitive change in the world as we know it has mesmerized folks for over two decades. Who knows how much money was spent on videos, books and magazines touting the Mayan Prophecy and possible ominous meaning of the year 2012?

However intriguing the whole subject may be, we need to come back down to earth as we know it and figure out how best to manage the environment in which we find ourselves.

My husband and I are supporters of gun rights. The stigma assigned to both us and also to millions of others is unwarranted. Mr. LaPierre’s speech in Washington, D.C. this morning proved spellbinding. For the first time, I heard a major player in a nationwide news conference go after the entrenched media bias against gun owners. Never before have I heard someone of his stature label Hollywood and video game makers for what they are: purveyors of violence.

He also put forth a plea for a national registry of persons with mental illness. However, not every disturbed person has been treated, so that initiative is far more complicated. One ingredient is the societal shame associated with mental illness. It encourages secrecy at the peril of others.

One thought that came to my mind was that it makes no sense for a parent with an obviously disturbed child to have guns available in the home. Sadly, Mrs. Lanza paid for that mistake with her life.

Back to the Hollywood set, here is no way to know how many attacks, rapes, robberies and shootings result from “action” movies and grisly video games, one of which (online for a decade) is “Kindergarten Killers.” Great, huh?

Please note, however, that those who earn millions of dollars from this so- called “entertainment” and scream loudest on gun control also travel with armed security.

Remember, both Columbine and Aurora fell victim to shooters who honed their skills via video games. Moreover the Aurora shooter by-passed several theaters that allowed patrons to carry weapons and chose a “no gun zone” where he knew he would not encounter any resistance. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that the most dangerous places are those that ban all guns, because they offer safe haven to criminals.

It’s time that the lobbyists employed by Hollywood and video game makers
— people that dole out millions of dollars are identified for what they are: merchants of death that inspire action so disgusting that it defies any degree of common sense.

American children see more murders by age eighteen than children in war-torn regions of the world considered “high risk”.

Five years ago, NRA’s recommendation that every school have armed security resulted in no action. When you consider how many retired armed service members, National Guard personnel, retired police and fire personnel and responsible, patriotic gun owners would gladly step forward to protect each and every school nationwide, that protection should be put in place by the time our kids go back to school after the Christmas break.

This is not exactly the column I planned for today, but the silence observed since last Friday was accompanied by a seething anger that the school lacked the video camera seen at major big box stores. Had there been such a device, when Adam Lanza climbed out of his vehicle with a rifle and approached the door, he would have been met with armed resistance. This is not to say that someone would not have been killed, but his carnage would never have been what the first responders to Sandy Hook Elementary found upon going into that school.

Bottom line? Responsible gun owners need better press and respect. Unfortunately, we will never be able to guarantee that every parent is a responsible adult and does not knowingly expose children to violence.

For now, we must take heart that communities come together in crisis and the tragedy in Connecticut may ignite a national movement to protect our children so that every school day will be safe and holiday will be peaceful.

IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

#129

November 9, 2012

“Thud”

I was reared to believe that I existed as part of something larger than myself and that I had a responsibility to contribute to the whole through my own effort. Whether membership in a family, a work staff, a profession, or a faith, each of us benefits from such alliances.

To that end, my generation (over 65) lived to the best of our abilities and saw to it that our churches and philanthropic work was channeled to those either unable to care for themselves or at risk for good health or life itself.

Such has been the work of American churches, synagogues, and organizations such as The Salvation Army (God bless them!) — plus countless fraternities, sororities, and service clubs.

I began politically active at age 12 when I rode my bicycle downtown and joined the Young Republicans. I walked off two pair of shoes as I carried a huge shopping bag house to house on behalf of Homer Capehart. I stuffed envelopes and sorted bumper stickers. If I had kept some of them, I would have amassed quite a collection by now!

My parents endured the Great Depression. They worked hard and saved their money. Both my brother and I held jobs from age 14 and held our own in the workplace. I worked and went to college at night and he began at a local factory and went on to found his own, very successful business as a manufacturer’s representative.

We began as members of our family. Our supper table was peppered with conversations that ranged from religion to economics. We knew when our parents could not afford something and we earned our own money for the extras so tantalizing to teenagers.

As adults, we stayed to the straight and narrow and respected those who earned more, but we never envied them. There is a difference. We noticed that and tried over the years to emulate that practice at a level we could afford.

We were brought up that the worst thing possible was to rely on what was known then as “the dole”, or government assistance. Beginning in the 1950s, the climate inched toward what we see today: nearly 50% of us receive some sort of government money.

The expansion of all means of public welfare for ever-growing numbers of Americans wreaked havoc on incentive and — in the process — pride and accomplishment died a slow, painful demise.

Not unlike an alcoholic, the “over-spenders” must hit bottom before any real turnaround can begin. We are in free fall. The only question is when we begin to se the bottom. It won’t be pretty, and the thought process that brought it about began early. It began not only in homes, but also in schools.

I taught in parochial schools as well as suburban township schools with substantial numbers of inner city students. One teen’s comment uttered during an all night “lock in” rings as a bell weather for what we just witnessed on Tuesday.

The hardest part of his day was getting to the bus stop without getting hurt. These were good kids, many of whom had a single parent working two or more jobs. Their parents’ dream was that life would hold more for their children than what they had experienced.

How many of these kids were stuck in under-performing, dangerous school situations? How many Einsteins, Jobs, or Lincolns are lost every year when the drop out rate spirals ever higher?

I know the difference between my mid-twentieth century education and that of today. History reigned supreme as the ultimate teacher and road map. If you do not know your history, you are doomed to repeat it?

Textbooks give history short shrift and the excuse is that there is too much to cover. Well, if that is the case, then you go to the core of history and highlight those elements that are seminal warnings for the future. I contend that one year of military history and one year of intense economics could change the course for our youth. If we don’t change the basics of our children’s education, we cannot turn back the tide that has swamped us.

While in graduate schools, I choked down blatant tenets of socialism expounded by professor after professor. True balance does not exist at the collegiate level. What was sown in the 1960s now rules. The concept of government as the answer is so engrained that it will take decades to correct if we can muster the strength to attack it at all.

I wonder if the rising college costs link directly to federal student loans. It would not surprise me. If students need to borrow more money, the government takes heed.

The fight is not over, folks. Instead, it is just begun. We must plant the seeds of real reform and go at the task with a zest few could envision as even possible. Nothing important happens quickly. It takes time, and now is the time for those of us who want to see the America of our youth.

Until we begin in pre-school to encourage incentive, entrepreneurship, effort and accomplishment, we will have seen America’s best days. For those of us with adult children and grandchildren, the specter of the Europe our forebears fled is more than we can bear. We go to bed at night feeling as if we have lived at the best time and that will not be possible for the younger set. That’s a sad commentary for a nation that has beckoned those with a will to achieve for over two centuries.

Consider the humble beaver. An unattractive animal, his dental work leaves a lot to be desired a beauty contest. Yet, his work ethic mirrors that of the socialists that constitute a huge number among our leadership. Chip by chip, tree bark flies and piles on the ground. The beaver smiles, even as the tree looms high above him and moves not. The chips decay over time, so the mass goes largely unnoticed. After untold hours of work, the mammoth tree cracks and falls. What once sheltered those beneath it lies in a heap robbed of its strength and its very life.

November 6 our tree fell. It wasn’t a pine or elm. Neither was it a maple or a fir. It was the tree of liberty. Will we plant another?

Thud.

The legacy we leave behind for our children, grandchildren, and this great nation is crucial. As I approach my 94th birthday, I realize this election could be my last. I believe it is vitally important that we cast our ballots for candidates who base their decisions on biblical principles and support the nation of Israel. I urge you to vote for those who protect the sanctity of life and support the biblical definition of marriage between a man and a woman. Vote for biblical values this November 6, and pray with me that America will remain one nation under God.

Billy Graham
Montreat North Carolina