A fun thing for a reader to do is pick up a favorite book and read it again. At Christmas, there are many stories that come to mind. One of these for this Springfield boy brings the true meaning of Christmas home. This year’s experience has brought back some insights not thought of for many years while reading “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens.
If you’ve never read the book and only seen the thousands of video versions of the story, it is well worth a read. Copies are available almost anywhere and you can even find free downloads for some devices and computers. It takes only an hour or two to read completely. Some families make reading a Christmas tradition.
The main character is Ebenezer Scrooge. We all know Mr. Scrooge in his many forms. Since his creation, he has been copied, degraded, analyzed, and referred to as an old fart or worse. However, the main subject is the Bob Crachet family. The most memorable line of the book is uttered by Crachet’s son Tim, aka Tiny Tim, who says, “God bless us, everyone.” The illness that has crippled this boy is not identified. The Ghost of Christmases to Come shows Ebenezer a scene referring to the boy’s death. The lead character’s death is also mentioned, but no one mourns for him.
Dickens was endeavoring to illustrate the plight of the poor, downtrodden, ordinary Londoner. To illustrate what his culture lacked he chose a typical lower-income family. They worked but could not get ahead unless they were treated better than Scrooge treated them. The plight of the poor is not necessarily the fault of the wealthy. They can, however, improve others a lot by being fair and honest.
Charity is not required to help the working poor. Decent wages and proper treatment by employers go a long way. As Bob Cratchet shows us, hard work can be rewarding, if your boss wants it to be. The moral is more that kindness as exhibited by Tiny Tim is rewarded, than that those who lack concern for others will die and be forgotten.
Human beings were created separately by God. We should demonstrate human kindness and not animal unconcern. Pets or even inanimate objects are shown more love than some people are shown. Even Mr. Scrooge was shown kindness by the spirits. His greed must be corrected not punished.
Dickens used many of his books to promote the harsh conditions in Victorian England. He criticized orphanages, poor houses, businesses, the criminal justice system, and the French government. I hope when you read “The Christmas Carol” you will focus on the story and not get hung up on contemplating the motivation as I have.
My friends call me Chuck. There are also some derivatives of it that the more creative find interesting. Jim refers to me as Up-chuck. Chuckles is my clown name. My mother said my name was Charles and that was what people should call me.
When I began to publish my writing, I decided to use Charles for all non-fiction and Chuck for fiction. My true name for truthful stories or columns. The name that I like for the stories are my own creations. Look at the name to recognize which you are reading. I hope that is simple.
Authors often use names that are not their legal titles. In business, I never signed purchase orders or sales quotations with Chuck. I do not sign checks with that name. Most people can’t tell because my signature is difficult to read.
Nom de plumes are common with creative folks. My great++ uncle Sam called himself Mark Twain. He used that moniker when writing for newspapers and then short stories and novels. He is also known for saying “Start with the truth and go from there.” I want you to be able to distinguish between real and fictional.
Do you use a pseudonym in your writing? I have not written romance novels. I am considering this genre and others but have not dipped my toe in, it yet. My attempt at 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo was not completely successful. I am proceeding with that project and will share it with you when I have gotten to a point where I am comfortable with it.
I want to encourage you to write your stories. If you need a place to publish, contact me and I might be willing to give you space on my page. You can remain anonymous. I know that we writers are often insecure about sharing our work. I will not take credit or payment for someone else’s creation.
Examiner.com gave me the opportunity to begin publishing my work. I can tag what you send me with your nickname or list you as a friend like I did for Tuesday. If what you sent me is not something I want to publish, I will tell you. Let’s write.
Welcome my friend Tuesday. She is not an author. She shares stories on Facebook. She said I could share this. I hope it speaks to you as it does to me.
By Tuesday Welch
Just had a God experience and wanted to share.
Something I can’t stand is when people comment on my grocery cart, I have a family of 5 and I cook my own food, so I buy lots of ingredients. I was unloading my cart and a man made some comments about how much food I was getting. God clearly said, “Be gentle, be kind, let him speak.”
I firmly believe that if God gives a command your only response should be, “Yes, sir.” So, I did, I spoke to him and was kind. And after a little bit more of him chatting he revealed he had had a stroke and the left side of his body didn’t work right.
At first, I only responded, “Aw, I’m so sorry, that’s awful.” And then I heard God again, “That’s why. Now pray.”
I asked the man if I could touch his arm and pray, he seemed excited! He slightly raised his bum arm and I prayed. As I was praying, I felt Holy Spirit nudge me about the man behind us in line, that he was also supposed to be blessed somehow by this prayer.
Afterward, when I was outside putting my stuff in the car the man with the bum arm said to me, “God Is real and He loves everyone doesn’t He?” And he RAISED his left arm, WHILE holding a gallon of milk!
God puts people in our path, if we can learn to shut up, and shut out the noise of life we can be more open to seeing those people God sends to us. I saw God heal this man today. Maybe the man behind him in line is struggling spiritually and witnessing someone pray reminded him of a God who saves. A God who looks after and takes care of His own. He saw David alone in the field. He saw Elisha alone plowing with oxen. He sees you too, even when no one else does.
This isn’t a brag post (that would be gross) this is simply a testimony and a reminder:
Love on others, because God uses us when we let Him. Don’t give up on the strangers around you, they aren’t strange to God.
Some of you will not relate to this column. Others will understand and some may have had similar tragedies in their lives. Thirteen years ago, our daughter’s family adopted a kitten. Their oldest girl gave it the name Meow. This was what she answered when asked what a cat says. They had a new baby girl at the time. She is now in Middle School.
meow has been slowing down the last few years. As we all must, she died tonight. For those of you who have fur babies and children, you know how this family is hurting.
I’ve buried a number of pets over the years. My wife did not grow up with dogs or cats around the house. When we moved into our second rental house and discovered that we could keep a dog in the fenced yard, we got our first dog. Our home has been blessed with many furry friends for over forty years.
Our daughters know the pain of losing a loved one because they have had these friends die. We have lost cats, dogs, gerbils, hamsters, guinea pigs, bunnies, lizards, fish, and even a chicken that I called dinner. That last one left our home alive. We never asked the farmer who took him what happened after he went to the farm. The first chick we took in died a few days after it was brought home.
Life goes on even when we lose human loved ones. Being able to cope with this grief can be learned by children if they suffer the pain of losing a pet. Losing a cat is not as bad as having a family member die. For children, it can be as traumatic.
My grandmother and President Kennedy both died in 1963. I do not remember being that upset by either of those deaths. When we lost our cat, princess, weeks later, it bothered me a lot more. Dealing with death is difficult for anyone. Children can have trouble coping with these feelings.
Raising children and grandchildren is often challenging. I ask that you remember this family as they teach the kids how to cope with emotions that they have not experienced before. If your family is grieving over a loved one or a pet, I would like to say that I am sorry for your loss and hope that this article has helped in a small way. God bless you.
We have all been rejected. Everyone has had others in their lives that they have not accepted. That means we are all on both sides of this scene. When I was in college as a ministerial student, I had a person that rejected me. Not just as a friend. This was someone who did not like me at all. Fortunately, we were around each other for one summer and have never met again.
When I was growing up, I was raised in a Southern Baptist Church. Our pastor was forced from the church by a group of members. This was not the first time it had happened. Some in the church left. When I was a teenager, it happened again. I was graduating from high school when the third pastor I knew was pushed not just out of the church, but out of the ministry completely. His two sons were friends of my brothers and I.
I stepped away from that church. I was not rejecting Christ. I had a problem with church people. I don’t want to call them Christians because that would be rejecting the Messiah. I did not want to do that. I did not trust any gathering of people. I was certain that something must be wrong with those folks because all those pastors could not be the problem.
I spent about a year running from my faith. I wanted to acknowledge the creator God and His son, Jesus. I did not want to support an organized congregation. I attended a couple of other churches where friends were members. They did not seem any different from the body I had left.
I wanted to know who Jehovah was. I needed to be sure He was real, and that Jesus was His son and the savior that I had accepted as a child. I studied ethics, psychology, and other subjects in college that did not give me any answers. Other students were from different denominations or religions. I continued to pray that I would be shown what the truth was.
My old church called a new pastor, and he was visiting all those that had left the church. He came to my house with a friend who had taken me to another church with him. They invited me to a young adult Bible study that met in the minister’s office before the morning service.
I decided to give that church another chance. I had come to believe that God did in fact exist. That He had come to earth as a baby, grown into a man, and was executed by the Roman government. I was not sure that Baptists were always correct.
I believed that if I was going to believe in Jesus, I needed to trust the Bible all the way. I wanted to read it more critically than I ever had. If it was inconsistent as some claimed, misrepresented our world, or had an incorrect view of humanity I wanted to determine for myself what the truth was.
A short time later I had my mind made up and felt that I was being called to full-time gospel ministry. I changed my life plans, my college and major, and most of what made me who I thought I was.
I finished my degree at a Baptist liberal arts college. I spent the next two years studying the Bible and what ministry was. As graduation day approached, I had to decide if seminary was in my future. I felt that my ministry would not need an advanced degree.
When I graduated, I had a job and pursued a career in business while I waited for direction on how my ministry should proceed. Over the next forty years, I learned that there were other workplace ministers out there and that many employees and managers needed someone to talk to in a non-threatening manner.
I am now retired from business and changing my life work from a hands-on direct contact ministry to an internet writing career. I am not writing to make money, gain fame, or be an influencer. I want to give anyone interested an opportunity to realize that all of us are imperfect and need a savior.
If you have rejected God, Jesus, or the church, I hope that you will give my Lord a second chance. Don’t base your belief on those who follow Him. Read His word and ask Him to show you the truth as I have. Let me know if you need more information.
I’ve been hearing the term Friendsgiving recently. My assumption is that this is an alternative celebration for those who cannot or do not want to be with family. I have never been unable to join my family for this holiday. My wife and I have always been close to our parents and siblings or later in life, our children, and grandchildren.
Family is within a drivable distance for us. I know this is not true for everyone. After our family gathering, I am considering how difficult it would be to not have your children, parents, and siblings to share holidays with.
I had one Fourth of July when I was over a thousand miles from home and spent the day by myself with church friends and their families. I wish I had been with my family that summer. I had chosen to work with a mission organization earlier that year. I had started at a new college and saw this opportunity was available in the early fall. I had never been away from home for that long.
I feel the concept of sharing a holiday with friends is an excellent idea. One Thanksgiving our family invited our new pastor and his family to join us because they were not returning home for the holiday. We had a great time and I think it made my relationship with their family stronger.
My problem is with the name. Thanksgiving says what the gathering is about. Friendsgiving includes part of that but does not include the term thanks. If the original was family-giving, the new name would fit. Thanksgiving can be used whether you join with family or friends.
My daughters brought friends home with them when they were in college. One Easter we introduced a friend to dyeing eggs. This young man had never experienced that in his family. New experiences are what life is about.
Friendship is often an ignored type of relationship. Friending is a skill that is not usually printed on a resume when you are looking for a job. It is one of the most essential characteristics an employee or business owner can develop. I say develop because you can learn how.
In high school, I learned to be a better writer, to speak in front of crowds, and to improve my skill of being a better friend. Earlier this year our graduating class had our fiftieth-class reunion. We renewed some friendships and made new friends with people that we never really knew in school.
Some of our classmates remembered high school as a time they did not wish to revisit. I am thankful that I did not miss the opportunity. Many of the friends I enjoyed at that time were from younger classes. Those in my class were not popular and many failed to come to any of the events. I would like to encourage you to strengthen your ability to make and keep friends. Push hard to accomplish this. Always be friendly. Attempt to make everyone you see each day smile. That has been one of my goals for many years. I hope you will make it yours.
I just viewed the movie “Up in the air” with George Clooney. If you have never seen this film, I will try to tell you about it without spoiling the ending. The Clooney character works for a company that specializes in helping others downsize their staff.
He travels a great deal and is asked what his goal in life is. His answer is to reach one million miles on his frequent flyer miles. This would make him the seventh to reach that milestone.
I used to travel for my job. For three years I would visit customers every day of the week through southwest Missouri and northwest Arkansas. I spent two nights away from home to cover part of my territory once a month. I do not know what it would be like to travel all over the country constantly.
My family grew up knowing that I would be home almost every night. My children have not been traumatized by not having their father involved. This is the first thing I am thankful for this year.
The second is that my wife and I were married before I had to move away after graduating from college. Our relationship survived a ten-week separation shortly after we were engaged. I am thankful that we have been married for forty-six years.
I am grateful that Jesus saved me and called me to be a minister of His gospel. That has included over forty years of serving at Hamlin Baptist Church in Springfield, Missouri. My ministry has been leading Bible studies for youth and adults. I am also a member of their Deacon body. My work has also enabled me to be a workplace servant.
Our daughters, sons-in-law, and grandchildren have also been tremendous blessings. As I watch them grow and mature into decent human beings, I am proud of who they are becoming and have become.
Another thing I want to share is that I am proud to be an American and thankful for those who protect us daily in the armed forces and as first responders. I do not want to become one who says that our country needs to become great again. I also am glad that our laws are such that many of us vote for those that we wish to lead our constitutional government.
Our country may not be perfect. Our lives are not always what we want them to be, but we can make changes and choices. Life can be much worse as we are constantly reminded when we watch the news. Remember, life is as good as you make it and part of that is based on your attitude. Happy Thanksgiving.
“There’s a package for you on the entry table,” came my wife’s voice as I opened the kitchen door from the garage. “It’s marked ‘urgent,’” she added as she wiped her hands on her apron and kissed me hello.
“When was it delivered?” I asked as I headed to the front door.
“I don’t know. It was lying outside the front door when I went to check the mail.”
Not unusual. It was an express mail package & I zipped it open quickly. Inside were the files I expected to have on my desk in the morning. Interpol printouts, investigation reports from all over the world on probable killings by Mike Richards, etc. Grainy surveillance photos, numerous other items, and a handwritten letter. It was “the note writer.”
It started, “Be very careful. Manny has not left the area. You were supposed to find David Weber. He will take action if he learns you believe he is involved. Quietly investigate the research Carl Freeman has been doing on his own time. Contact his wife at the funeral home through an intermediary. Do not let anyone know that you are looking for Manny or you will be the next victim. I’ll be in touch.”
After a quick dinner, I was back in the office. I usually don’t get spooked, but this case was getting to me. I looked at my mirrors closer than usual, checked to be sure my piece was ready, and made sure I walked in with other officers I knew. I was very cautious.
I accessed Interpol. The pages I had looked at were exactly what was currently posted. “Note writer” must have access to Interpol. He must be another officer or an excellent hacker. I called the funeral home and found out what time Mrs. Freeman would be there tomorrow. David Weber was more cooperative after I told him who the man was in the mug shot, he had identified. When I told him I was going to charge him with possession of stolen goods, so I could hold him, he seemed relieved.
Sleep did not come easy. Too many questions kept coming to mind. What was Freeman working on? Why did it cost him his life? Who was the Note Writer? Could I keep David Webber alive, if Manny wanted him dead?
When the alarm went off at 6:00 a.m., I was still asking myself questions. Today promised to be as strange as yesterday.
By 10:30 I had already checked for additional information on Mike Richards, aka Manny, and was at the funeral home. Mrs. Freeman was surprised when I asked if her husband had any “special projects” he was working on.
“For years he has been working on a new car engine. He applied for a patent a few months ago but found out recently that his design is already patented,” she told me.
“Has any of the stuff in his shop been taken?”
“Not that I can tell,” was her response. “I rarely go out there. The only thing I am sure is not missing is the car with the engine in it.”
I made arrangements to meet her that afternoon to look at the shop. I still did not see why this was important. I drove back to the station and was almost hit in the parking lot as I left my car. Some people even drive like maniacs in the parking lot of a police station.
When I came back to my car to go meet Nicole Freeman, The Note Writer had struck again. “Manny has made you,” it began. “He knows you have Weber. You should watch your step in the parking lot. Next time he won’t miss you. Do not contact the Freeman woman again directly. If Manny thinks you are interested in the car, you and Weber are both dead.”
Could that car that almost hit me have been driven by a paid killer? It made me think. I went back to my office and called a friend to go see Mrs. Freeman. I needed to know all I could about that car and engine.
Mike Richards was a very interesting man. Suspected murders in over twenty countries. Last ten years he had almost been caught at least five times. No indication in my information of who had been close to catching him. No one knew who he killed for, and all the murders seemed random. No known link had been found, yet. That was the Interpol report.
The other papers were clippings that described the deaths of an FBI agent, several police, and assorted citizens. Many were in the U.S., but close to half were from other countries. A few of the articles mentioned experimental work on engines or alternative fuels. Some were murders, but most were accident reports or obituaries. If The Note Writer was to be believed, Mike Richards must be very wealthy, indeed. Between these clippings and Interpol’s report, he had killed over a hundred people. The official score was twenty-two.
I found the reported suicides of three police officers, the accidental deaths of four more, and the killed in the line of duty of two and the agent to be the most disturbing. Each of the officers and the agent was investigating an unsolved death at the time of their deaths. One clipping had a photograph of a group of uniformed officers at the scene of the fatal shooting of another officer. One of the faces was circled. An arrow drawn from the circle pointed to the name “Manny” written on the side. With this clipping was an artist’s sketch entitled “Manny today.”
The articles on the death of the FBI agent described his family, and his partner and showed a map of the area where his body was found in his burned car. Thomas Winston Riley was a twelve-year veteran of the FBI, former military intelligence, and trained hostage negotiator. His partner, Sam Wilkens reported nothing unusual in their cases that would indicate anything other than an accident. The investigation concluded with the statement, “Death due to severe trauma inflicted during an automobile accident.”
There was ice, the guard rails had been taken out by an eighteen-wheeler two days earlier. He ran off the road and the car rolled down an embankment and burned due to a punctured gas tank. Due to the snow and ice, there were no marks on the pavement. All the tires melted in the fire. There was no way to tell if the accident was the result of a blowout.
I know that it is the tenth of November and that I was going to start writing on the first. I wanted to share with you what I have written. This is the first chapter.
The clock read 1:33. Four rings, maybe five . . . six . . . seven.
“Yeah.”
“Detective Sammon?”
“Yeah.”
“We have a homicide.”
“Where?”
“4212 S. Larson Boulevard.”
“I’m on my way.”
I’ve developed my technique to the point I can dress and be out of the house in five, or ten minutes tops.
“Another murder?” my wife asked.
“Yeah. I’ll call you later this morning, O.K.?”
“K.”
At 1:40 in the morning, most of the lights are blinking, but when you’re a cop, you don’t stop. The dashboard clock blinked at 1:59 as I pulled in behind the third patrol car.
“Who was first on the scene?”
Sam Wise, a twenty-year veteran on the force answered. “I was.”
“What’s the story?”
“Neighbor on the south saw a car pull away about midnight. She thought it unusual. Her husband came home after 1:00 and told her the front door was open and a light was on the inside. He came over and saw drawers out and I had her call it in. I found the body in the kitchen.”
“Burglary gone bad?”
“Looks that way.”
“Anyone else lives here?”
“A wife. She’s out of town. Neighbors don‘t know where. We found an address book. The wife‘s sister, Elaine Newton is in the book.”
Less than an hour later, Mr. Newton had called his wife at the hotel where she and her sister were. They started on their way back. All Nicole Freeman knew was that she needed to go to the local hospital to see her husband. There had been a break-in at the house.
It’s part of the job, but not an easy part, to meet the family at the hospital and tell them the bad news and escort them to the morgue to identify the body. Mrs. Freeman was genuinely surprised to hear and see that her husband was dead. Or maybe she’s that good of an actress.
Nothing was unusual about this case. Mrs. Freeman left two days earlier for a weeklong shopping trip with her sister and some friends. Carl Freeman, the deceased, had worked until his usual 5:00 p.m. at a local factory. He had prepared a frozen meal his wife left for him. Worked in his shop till 9:30 or 10:00 p.m. Watched the news, and went to bed around 10:30. The neighbor saw the lights go off while she read and waited for her husband to get home. The late model car she saw left, could not be identified by anyone and no one saw the driver.
Mrs. Freeman did an inventory of the house. All her jewelry was gone. Most are not worth much. The most interesting missing items were three guns. One, a .38 pistol. A single .38 slug was taken from Carl Freeman’s head. Shot between the eyes. Not the way most burglars would do it. This case was going to be hard to solve. Or was it?
When I went to my car at about 2:30 that afternoon, I found a note under the driver’s windshield wiper. Addressed to “Detective Sammon” it read “FEX237 dirty brown 1998 Honda Civic.”
No one had seen anyone around my car when I inquired later. I went back to the station. David Wever was the owner of the 1998 Honda Civic with the FEX237 tags. 243 W. Main Street was the listed address. The car was parked in front of the dilapidated house. It smelled of everything you could imagine and so did Weber.
“Mr. Weber?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Detective Alan Sammon.” I showed him my badge.
“Yeah, I’m Weber,” He didn’t seem concerned.
“Where were you last night?”
“Right Here?”
“All night?”
“Yeah.”
“Anyone with you?”
“Nope.”
“That your car?”
“Yeah.”
“Was it there all night with you?”
“Yeah.”
“You did not make a trip to Larson Boulevard about midnight?” Did he just take a deep breath?
“Nope. Stayed here all night.”
I wanted a search warrant but knew I had no chance. No one could even I.D. the car, except the note writer. I went back to my car.
Had Weber seen the note writer? Maybe? He had struck again. The note said, “Patsy’s Bar from 10:30 to 11:30.” I was headed up to the house again when I heard the back door slam. I caught Mr. Weber before he could get all the way over a privacy fence in his backyard.
I cuffed him and called for backup. White we waited, I read him his rights. Then I asked if he would let us search the house.
“Hell, no!”
While I was going back to the station in my car, I requested a search warrant be issued on probable cause. He had bolted after initial questioning. That didn’t make him guilty of murder, but the judge thought he must be running from something.
David Weber sat in a holding cell with two other guys while I went to Patsy’s Bar and the uniforms searched the house. Derek, the bouncer, and Bob, the bartender, knew Weber. He was there last night and left with another man around 11:30. They could not give a good description of the other man. I thought it might have been Carl Freeman.
Weber’s house had many items that did not appear to belong to Mr. Weber. Why would a man who lives alone need twelve televisions, six-CD changers, and five DVD players? Nothing found there matched any of the items missing from Freeman’s house. No guns were in the house or the car.
I could only hold Weber for 24 hours without proof he committed a crime, but he helped me on that one.
“I know you left Patsy’s with Carl Freeman around 11:30 last night.”
“Is that the guy’s name?” was his response. “All I know is he asked if I wanted to make a quick heist and I said sure. He gave me the address in the parking lot and told me to take whatever I wanted. I didn’t know he had killed a guy and wanted me to take the fall.”
I was surprised. “So, the man at the bar wasn’t the guy we found dead at the house?”
“No. That’s probably his wife’s boyfriend. He told me to take whatever I wanted out of the house because the judge had just given it all to his wife in a divorce. He had left the doors unlocked and no one was home. It sounded too good to be true.”
“Had you seen the man at the bar before?”
“Not before last night. He was there earlier and asked me to hang around. Told me what he wanted me to do, but said he needed to be sure his wife and the boyfriend were gone.”
“When was that?”
“About 10:30”
“What was he driving?”
”Didn’t see.”
“Did you go back to the bar after you left the house?” I knew the answer to this one.
“No. I just went home. It shook me up bad.”
I had him look at mug shots of locals and even some known contractors. After the first hour, I thought it was hopeless, but then he spotted one. A worldwide contractor known as Mike Richards, Richard Michaels, R. Mann, Manny, and the list went on. No confirmed, true, identity.
I requested an Interpol search, filed the paperwork to hold David Weber as a material witness, and went home.
Many believe that old saying. How do you know when a politician is lying? When their mouth is moving. It seems like this is most true during an election year. The commercials that most of the candidates are running are loaded with untruths.
Some think that not telling the complete truth is not a falsehood. I believe that failure to share exact knowledge is tantamount to lying. You may agree with Bill Clinton that changing the meaning of a word is all that is needed to prevent having to admit that you are speaking lies.
One candidate accuses another of being the person responsible for the Missouri abortion law taking effect after the repeal of Roe versus Wade. He lumps her in with every other Democrat. Another candidate doesn’t talk about the issues. She tells how her campaign is grassroots centered. We don’t know where she stands. How can we unless she tells us?
The Attorney General of Missouri had to put into effect a law that was passed before he was elected to his office. To fail to do this would have been breaking the law. His opponent lumps him in with all Republicans as supporting the overturning of Roe vs. Wade.
Most candidates are attacked based on what the other party normally stands for. Especially for those who have never held office. It is difficult to denounce the voting record of someone who has never voted. Guilt by association is the rule.
Speaking of those who have never voted. Can they claim they are not politicians? Do you have to be holding a political office to be a politician? The definition is: “a person who is professionally involved in politics, especially as a holder of or a candidate for an elected office.” If you are running for an office, you are a politician.
Candidates use the money contributed to their campaigns to purchase advertising. You do not mention the name of your competition unless you are trying to discredit them. When they are not a threat, you don’t pay to mention them. One Senatorial candidate speaks against both of her opponents. Third-party candidates are not usually even recognized by the Republicrats or Demicans. Maybe this year we may see another party emerge victorious.
I am not mentioning the names of any of these candidates because I want you to make your own decision on who to support. I also want you to choose which side of the ballot issues to choose.
The ads about the legalization of marijuana talk about making law enforcement’s job easier when the sheriff’s associations in most states consider legitimizing any illegal substances a terrible idea. What some of you do not know is that all the current illegal substances were openly used at one time in our country. Laws were passed to protect those that were addicted to them.
These commercials give false information about the financial benefit of changing our laws. They do not consider the cost of the problems that will be caused. Where is the information from the nineteen states that prove what they are claiming? Maybe those statistics don’t confirm the promises made.
Do your own research on the amendments and the candidates. Decide how to vote. Come to the polls on Tuesday and participate in your democratic republic. That may be where those party names came from. Who knew?
Charles (Chuck) Kensinger 