One Woman's View: A medley
Contributing writer
Within my brain three topics are fighting for the privilege of being the subject of this month's column. (Don't ask why they would be so eager!) Being the indecisive person I am, I am about to hold forth briefly on all three.
Just when we thought we would be allowed to forget his existence, O.J. Simpson is once again polluting the television newscasts and commandeering the front page of the morning paper. I have some mixed feelings about the charges against him in the alleged robbery. Apparently, the so-called victims were themselves very shady characters. It is entirely possible they had stolen memorabilia from Simpson. However, when you have something stolen from you, don't you report it to the police and let them take care of it? If the material was stolen from him, he obviously could identify the culprits and knew where to find them. You do not gather together a group of friends with guns and take the lawn into your own hands.
Prosecutors may be pushing for the highest possible penalties, because they believe he literally got away with murder in his previous trial. Perhaps this case should be tried on its own merits without regard to his past. Nevertheless, this crime is one more evidence of his proclivity for violence. As far as I am concerned, the longer they lock him up the better.
All the publication about Simpson's book, "If I Did It," turns my stomach. When he was acquitted of the murder of his wife and her friend, I was one of the few people I know (other than the jury) who had a reasonable doubt of his guilt. I thought he was probably guilty, but some of the evidence raised doubts in my mind. Besides I felt the jury heard evidence that I did not know about, since I was not glued to the television throughout the trial. Now I feel that even in the rather unlikely event that he was innocent of the murders, writing this book is practically a crime in itself. Only someone with no heart and no conscience could do that to the families of the victims, even including his own children.
Another case with racial overtones in the headlines these days is the charges against the "Jena 6." Perhaps I am missing something in this picture. Many of all races around the country are rallying to their support, but I have trouble seeing them as a persecuted minority. I grant that blacks in this country often do not receive equal justice under the law. When I see that happening, I am as outraged as anyone. But is that really happening here?
Apparently the six black teens' alleged attack on a white youth was the culmination of a long period of unrest between the races, starting with the certainly objectionable placing of nooses in a tree on the high school grounds with its suggestion of the disgraceful history of lynching blacks. Incidentally this is a salutary reminder of how seemingly innocuous expressions of bigotry can escalate into serious violence.
No matter how understandable their resentment, however, six young men's ganging up on one teenager to beat him unconscious cannot be justified. How would the people demonstrating on their behalf react to the severe beating of a black youth by six white teens? Wouldn't that be regarded as a disgraceful hate crime? Rightly so, I might add. But trust me, whites do not have a monopoly on hatred and bigotry. If blacks deserve (and often do not get) equal justice under the law when they are victims of crime, shouldn't they accept the same treatment when they are perpetrators?
My last topic of the month has no thematic relationship to the first two. I believe a recent experience proves the power of prayer. When I took a fall in my garage, I found it impossible to pull myself up. After all my efforts proved fruitless, I prayed, "God, please send someone to help me or show me how to do this myself."
I have no neighbors close enough to hear me yell for help, and the street past my home is very lightly-traveled. Cardie Oil is across the alley. If someone there was outside, I thought, they might possibly hear. Yelling as loudly as I could brought no result. Naturally I had visions of lying there helpless for a day or two until somebody happened by. Ah, me of little faith! Soon a neighbor driving by heard my shouts and stopped. Since I am more than pleasingly plump, I felt sure she could not lift me alone and told her so. She went over to the station and brought two of their staff. The three of them managed to haul me to my feet with nothing much hurt but my dignity. Thank God for answered prayer and good Samaritans.
