A Child Descendant of a Yankee Carpet Bagger and Wanda, the Waitress… With even a certain degree of culture, most any one would suggest that ordinarily; but only in the vaguest way…if you had never the opportunity to make his acquaints; if indeed, you knew anything at all and there really is much to be known; if you could only imagine; if you knew what the town folks know; you would almost be able to understand him in a much different light than the official record or from the whisper rumors about him and his past; while some see him to be a troubled young man who has constantly suffering from some tragic inner or mental instability; making him to be seem like a town outcast; while others say he is an anti-sociable, un-American person who needs to be feared or at least; even they say; he needs to be dismissed as a just another sad tale or another Faulkner-like lost cause…but… to be truthful with you; I would tell you that observation would truly be based on a complete ignorance of what the real facts are or that it was laziness due to the lack of research into the real history that he shared with this little southern town; right off I-75 and to the southwest of the university at Gainesville. To all the towns regular folks; any fair and honest town folk would have to admit that over the past several years; to the many of them…here in the town and even out in the county…that for the most part, truly know what had happened or to those few that had been there or to the many that have heard about the events that triggered this discussion; if you had witnessed it, first hand, you could not help but to share a collective opinion as that for last several years; it would be clear to even (now retired...thank GOD) Judge Blaines corrupt courthouse, hired thugs and fellow travelers; that all of this young man’s sheer energies and willpower have been devoted to moving himself further down the path of the town’s redemption and it can truly be told; that he has put away all of his pain, angry and rage that even a saint would have held over for all those old events and misdeed inflicted upon him by the judge; that even Gandhi would have cursed about or in an extreme case; track all them down and settled it like they do in those Saturday Morning Matinees; I tell you; that he didnt and that he doesnt; I tell you that it says a lot to me about his character and as such, I admire him for it…cause; I am not sure that I could have just walked away; if I could have swallowed it all and set out to start over and fresh...No sir; I cant say that I could...and, I dont know if you should...but he did and towards that point; he is a better man than I... The whole town has watched; many waited; they said that that his stoic face would crack and we would be dragging the river to find either Judge Blaine or at least a few of his hired tugs... But; so far...it aint happened and I got good money on him to say that it wont; while those who wager against my valued opinion of this young man and his true character; they say that its only a matter of time; they say hes smart or at least that is what one of the former, fellow travelers (hanger-on-eers or as we use to call them before the word fellow travelers was made popular by the old senator that hated the commies back in the fifties) told me that scares the judge the most; he said the old judge (since retired from the local bench) is half crazy over that this young man is mocking him and merely awaiting some unknown time or a particle place to get his revenge... This forward march of this one young man’s redemption seems to have become the sole purpose in the life and progress of this small southern town; but, even I would have to say that its effect upon the town...OH HELL...the whole of the county; it has been a forward march unmatched since Sherman last lashed and burned his way from Atlanta to the coast and yet he still goes on day by day in such a remarkable fashion that I am at a lost to properly know where to start given his upbringing and early childhood. He was a child descendant of a Yankee Carpet Bagger who came south to reap his fame...at least to collect, beg, borrow or outright steal a future; and the daughter of a formally well to do family that once held economic and political sway over several, local county seats; The whys or the where’s are lost to time; locked up in local legends and as far as I know; it has never been explained in any real sense of logic; little alone, commonsense. The main importance to this story is that they met, I guess...I assume that they fell in love...or at least, had some form of open courtship; therefore, they married...I will leave that part of the story there...as the various tales that have grown up, been fought over and appealed; they are an interesting story all by themselves...and, as I said...this is the only part of that story that ties into his and lets get back to his story...where was I??? Yes! I was saying that his background was unusual and not always pretty; born into his grand dads acquired wealth and as to the economic and political power that he would have the duty to Shepard as a good steward (not as an owner but as a caretaker of the wealth and power), to maintain it and to be able to pass it down to a future son and ensure a continuation of the family’s statue and place in local society. Rich people always tell us that growing up wealthy is a handicap, a curse, and a burden that they must learn to live with…but, to us poor town folks; it would be a burden that we would not mind having. From the tales that I hear told outright or to those streamer, detective magazine style tales that were whispered down at the taverns or out at the roadhouse on I-75; that is where Wanda (was a young daughter of a man who drank himself to an early death to avoid spending the rest of his life with a hateful, nagging wife) was a waitress. Wanda was a nice, polite young girl who had left her home up along the St James River after her dad died and in those days; without much formal education or money; there was not much a young lady could do but get married if she had money or go to work at the roadhouse until she finds a husband if she didnt. Wanda was a really different type of young lady…a woman…I must correct myself just as she would always correct me when I made the mistake referred to her as a lady. I had the pleasure to meet her from time to time and every time I asked her when she was gonna get married; she would strike a pose as if I had kicked her in the stomach and with those fiery blue eyes; she would stare me down for what seemed a lifetime before she would look me in the eye and say that her life did not, would not center around some old man because she planned to go up to Gainesville (in a year or so) and make something of herself that no one could ever take away…You know; I believed every word to be true but; I loved to make her mad… How Wanda ever got hooked up with this grandson of a Yankee carpetbagger I will never figure out. There seemed to be no two people with less in common that some dull, spoiled rich kid and this hard working…bright young lady…that had a future planned…she had a dream. There are many…many…town folks that can give you a blow by blow account of the whys’ and wherefores of the budding romance; but, to be truthful; I think that most of them are pulling your leg or trying to get their fifteen minutes of popularity…what that artist from New York call it; your fifteen minutes of fame…either way; those stories upset me as I knew Wanda and I can testify that she was not that kind of woman. I would have been proud to have had her as a daughter and whenever I am in earshot of some yokel spreading such lies; I make it very clear that I take a serious offence to that as it is not true…I have had to teach some respect to a couple of them over the years… Wanda was tops in my book. What happened the night; the true story; we shall never know as outsiders looking in; I have heard much and I have, over the years; heard the story directly from even some of the judge’s old fellow travelers and you know; each story is so distinctly different for each other that I truly wonder if it happened at all; you know when a story is made up and when you get other people involved in the story…everyone tells it different… Wanda went up to the university and you know; I heard that she is a famous doctor working with the CDC outside Atlanta. I was just joking the other day that I should get some rare disease and they would send her down here to check on us; I figure that will be the only way that you could ever get her back down here. Maybe, someday; I can make it up to Atlanta; you think she would even remember me? It would be a hoot to see that young woman…I am sorry…to see that young doctor again… Going on two years now; the roadhouse caught fire and burned down to the ground and Sid (the owner) just took the cash and retired further south…I saw him at the greyhound park in Miami last fall; he was looking good for a man who must be at least 167 years old. So, why at this point; does any of this matter? It does matter because, this young man; for all his faults and towards his entire youngster, misdeeds; to have what was done to him…was not…it is not right…as I believe in what we sloe; we shall receive; it because of this that I find a place in my heart for this young man and still to this day; I cheer him on…the loss of wealth; even when it is ripped away from you; is not important but; the loss of respect is everything here in these little southern towns off the I-75…
Posted on: Sat, 02 Nov 2013 05:41:29 +0000
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