Below the fold is an email letter I received today and thought should be shared with the community. I called the author of the letter and asked her permission to post it in its entirety. She gave her permission.
Pike County is in West Central Georgia and is part of the Third Congressional District currently occupied by Lynn "uppity" Westmoreland aka "3 Commandment" Lynn. His Democratic challenger is Stephen Camp, if you would like to support Stephen, go to his site and donate. Add $.03 so Stephen knows where the donation is coming from.
MY DESCRIPTIVE PERSPECTIVE:
My name is Melissa and I’m the Chair of the Democratic Party of Pike County, Georgia. I have lived and traveled to many places both here and abroad. My current passport is littered with the physical stamps of these regions while my brain carries with it the psychological and photographed impressions of people of many cultures and beliefs. My expired passport is stamped with the obligations that came with being a member of the Air Force. I served, my sister served, my ex-husband with whom we share three children is still serving, and now my son is joining.
I along with several others in the county have been diligently registering voters and ensuring that the disabled and the elderly have access to absentee ballots. Upon this journey I have met many people and have heard stories from long-ago and how these times are just remarkable. Stories of hope, inspiration, triumph, and most of gratitude for even me being there and offering assistance.
Aside from that and on to the unfolding drama, the Democratic party in Pike County meets every month at Ruth’s restaurant. We meet in the back room free of charge and have brought extra business to this restaurant once a month by inviting outside people to our meetings. The attendance can be sometimes three, sometimes 15. The owner’s husband is always there, helping or assisting, and had always been cordial. He had let me know in the beginning he was a republican, and I can respect that. Everyone in this country has the right to have their views.
We met this past Thursday, October 9th, and I knew that we were going to have a small meeting because all of the officers were at other obligations but I chose to stay in case someone dropped by. I ordered a to go plate at 6:30 to be done at 7pm. I would stay until then and leave if no one showed and could fill the time by making some phone calls to district leaders and candidates. My husband you see is a Republican and I love him very much. He was sick at the doctor and I should not be out too late. At 7 I decided no one was going to show and got my styrofoam covered dish that was placed before me by the waitress.
She actually is a nice person that always has a smile on her face despite the apparent pain she suffers from the incredible limp given to her most probably from birth. Moving from table to table smiling, happy to have her job, I can only imagine the sore arthritic joints she bears when making this journey from kitchen to table, from table to kitchen. Standing now at the counter with my gift for my husband and waited to pay for it. Pastor Tom says doing these small things in marriage daily continually builds and holds your marriage together.
The owner’s husband came in from outside with a sense of urgency, briskly walking around the counter and stood before me and beloved’s meal. With heightened voice and a tone I had not witnessed in him before, he began to state his disgust about the registering illegal’s and gutter trash. I immediately glanced at the TV that hung high in the corner of the one room dinning area. What news had I missed while spending the day at the Aquarium with my children? I Gazed through the once familiar horizontal lines on the screen that had neither seen cable during its time, and after Feb 2009 will cease to exist if a special tiny box is not attached to it giving it life again. Not able to detect the breaking-at this moment news-I was drawn back to this man I had not known previously. It took me about 3 whole seconds, which seemed like 3 hours to realize his anger, his hate, his frustration, was directed to me. Just me. I was the one registering this "gutter trash" ,these supposed illegals. "They do not deserve the right to vote, they shouldn’t be allowed to vote. It was "gutter this" "gutter that" in short broken sentences spent out in fury.
I told him it was a free country, the United States of America, and that everyone has a right to vote. It is one of the only rights we had left. He went on about how apparently he could have gone to finish his school and ran for our senator, congressional seats and that even he could have done that. These statements are not new. In previous conversations when he had slipped this out, in much a different voice, I took it that he was interested in politics and possibly had made a mistake in his profession. But at that pivotal moment, him behind the counter, customers staring at the event unfolding, news from behind the rotating horizontal lines, my beloved meal standing before me, I knew then, what was the intent of these previous conversations. This man who once could carry a conversation about events and beliefs had transformed to something vile and angry.
At that point I chose to remain quite, looked over at the cash register, seeing that the total was $6.95 I wrote the check for $9. I’m grateful for the free meeting room and for all waitresses in general (something I have attempted and survived), it is a very difficult profession with little pay. I tell my husband to always pay over 20% for tips.
He took the check and slammed it in the drawer. I politely told him I had left a tip on the check. Retrieving it from the drawer took two dollars out and said, "is this all you got?" while turning around and gave it to the waitress who was passing behind. She looked up and forced a smile that competed with the overwhelming embarrassment from within. I smiled at her also and at that instant, we both look as though we feel sorry for each other. Upon exiting and driving home I made several phone calls and told my officers and members will not be meeting there due to the hostile exchange there.
At home I wrote my husband’s name on the dinner, so that my 4 kids (particularly my college son) will not eat it. They had spicy chicken enchiladas with rice, something my husband’s fiery stomach cannot endure. My husband works very hard and long hours to save our businesses during these hard times and is now sick with an upper respiratory infection. Chicken and dumplings should make him feel better, a (bought) home cooked meal was the best I could do after spending the day at the Aquarium with three children, one of which is 5 and can run me ragged at times.
After washing my youngest and getting him in bed, my husband came home from attending the Family medical center at 8pm. Full of shots and medicine we conversed about what took place at Ruth’s Restaurant. Rubbing my head due to the oncoming headache I explained to him the uncomfortable feeling he left me because of the hostility. While eating one of the rolls, with bread crumbs hanging from his mustache, he jokingly said "do you think we can trust it?" with a small chuckle. He turned to grab a fork and tried to lighten the mood by picking up a piece of seasoning and taunting it in front of my face. Removing my hands from my aching temples I tried to focus on that object because my brain could not comprehend what just took place. He dug in with his fork because the chicken and dumpling looked great and he was not only starving but felt terrible. I instinctively picked up the object to examine further. And there lay in my hand a cooked mouse head. It was not buried in food, broken apart by the cooking process; it was a severed cooked mouse head lying directly on top of the green beans. I will not delve further into the exclamations of what pursed my lips nor, the intensity, for that cannot be published. But all of my four children came running from multiple areas of our 6000 square foot house.
(1) it could have been from the can and was missed during the pouring, cooking, serving process.
(2) it could have come from the business and the mouse decided to end his life prematurely through decapitation and a nice hot bath.
(3) or it is what it seems to me; direct and intentional.
I have been quiet up to this point. I left our previous local church when after several years of antidemocratic inferences and taught beliefs that good Christians cannot be anything but republicans. We left when they had finally said from the pulpit who you should vote for; of course no exact names were said but it was for the good and loving Christian person; not the evil doer. We have been attending another Baptist church after that and have been quite pleased. Pastor Tom has had great sermons about fireproofing your marriage and this has drawn my husband and I closer. And then last Sunday, October 5th, in the pulpit spreading gods love, intent, and instructions, he too seems different. In the middle of condoning what is all wrong with the world, building to the final ending statement to rattle the very bones of all in attendance, he said those hateful words. ....."What is wrong with this country? We even have a muslim running for president!!!" My face felt red as the blood attempted to cool down my brain of which was about to have a melt down as this lie resonated within the chapel. Did I scream from the rafters, confront Pastor Tom right there in the middle of service, or have a meltdown that would summon every worshipper from the far depths of the church building? (not unlike the moment upon realizing the special endowment of the mouse in my meal???) Well the answer is no. I got up and went to my vehicle and sat and waited for my family and read my bible. My husband stayed after and explained my feelings and that he had no right to speak about something of which he has no evidence. I will be fair in saying that Pastor Tom did tell my husband to contact him when we were available and he would apologize to me. My children attend a private Christian school and have had to endure much of the same. We all know how kids can be. But the thought has crossed my mind more than once the oddity that the harassment is not directed toward the black children.
I write this not in hatred, but to expose the very evil that hate filled doctrine produces. In world history it is noted that riots with its frenzied crowds swarm with destruction in an almost hypnotic state, not unlike that of locust. You see grasshoppers in far regions of the planet exist normally and when they become great numbers, a magical thing happens. Once a docile creature, it goes through a physical transformation that produces an eating machine hell bent on consumption and destruction.
Few in our time have been able to mass millions of people from afar in this same hell bent psychological transformation and with a doctrine of hate that localized riots produce. These leaders from the past and their followers, we read about them in textbooks and try to understand the paths of destruction and what lead them there. I have tried to imagine what it was like in the beginning stages, when these past monsters were spreading their doctrine of hate. What took place in the beginning? How were they accepted by the crowds and just how fast did they rise to power? Was it a fast and furious rise to power or was it like that of boiling a frog by putting it in cold water and turning on a slow flame It does not sense the change in temperature as a danger and will stay in that pot until death. (Sorry about the cooked animal inference).
I speculate as I watch the news, and try to conjure the thought; Is this what it was like?
Sincerely,
Melissa Wade
Pike County Democrats