The Charlotte News

Friday, January 30, 1942

THREE EDITORIALS

In any event, the transition from one widget to another might be called "Mad bull lost its way". That, or the "Mulberry Twist". But that's just our observation, viewing the tire rationing scenario, and that to which it led, the car-cakes, through the prism of Time.

Two letter writers discuss the obviously impacting series by Tom Jimison on the devils of Morganton's insane asylum. The first, a former inmate on four separate occasions for a total of three years, confirms that which Mr. Jimision had thus far recounted, describes how he led a delegation of inmates on one occasion to knock, utilizing his bare head, a loose brick from the corner of the building as symbol of the decaying physical plant.

The second, a former employee for twelve years, by contrast suggests that the staff were always made to respect the patients and put them first. Presumably, that included the rat floating in the White Horse gravy for flavor; never let a nutritional opportunity for the kindly staff of food preparers slip past the patients, in favor of usurpation to the palate by some employee with motives inimical to the patients. "Mmmm-goooood. Have to pass it up though in favor you, old Tom, good suh. Have all the gravy you can eat, boy. By the way, our pajamas are lookin' a little baggy there, ain't they, suh? You crazy people are all alike, expectin' us to do ever'thing for you."

It seems that Mr. Daves, the second letter writer, now worked for a privately run sanatorium, also in Morganton. Mr. Daves wouldn't have wanted to be fired from that job after the nice recommendation given him by the state hospital for all his years of polite service to the patients, and so, no doubt, was very pleased to write this letter of unbiased glowing recommendation of the facility in return.

It is interesting to note that no single topic in recent times, save Pearl Harbor itself, had sparked so many letters to the editor of The News. It seems Mr. Jimison had ratcheted up the pressure to close the joint, or at least have the Governor explain to the citizenry why it should remain open under its extant conditions. Surely, sooner or later, we shall hear something from the Governor's office. The Governor, recall, was, after all, so quick to respond back in the summertime after the rocks and bricks were exchanged between the would-be lynch mob and the CCC men who came in to break it up outside the jail in Roxboro where the sheriff stood his ground and refused to release the prisoner.

But, it seems, according to "Bound to Rise", that the Governor was too busy right now fulfilling the vacancy on the Supreme Court just occasioned by the death of Heriot Clarkson, and had to hurry to fill it with his campaign manager from the 1940 election. Well, no doubt, he was a sterling piece of legal talent nonpareil--as they all, no doubt, always are. And they read so well, too.

In any event, the old warrior at the White House would have but three more, none of which would be too pleasant. Upon the last one, it was evident from his mien that death, the grim reaper of World War II, was soon to claim him, as surely as the Civil War had claimed Abraham Lincoln.

Incidentally, we are happy to report that the apparent curse cast on the nation by Tecumseh (or, more likely, by his brother, the Shawnee Prophet, Tenskwatawa, who lived until 1837), back in the time of the Battle of Tippecanoe, won by the forces fighting under William Henry Harrison against the forces under Tenskwatawa, is over as of noon on January 20 past. Tecumseh and his warriors had sought to attempt to establish the sovereign right of all Native Americans to co-ownership of the land occupied by the white settlers, and that no individual tribe could sell the sacred hunting grounds. The curse, resulting from William Henry Harrison's defeat of them and the death of Tecumseh, was that each President elected in the "0" year, starting with President Harrison in 1840, would die while in office. The last President made it through eight years without either death or a bullet fired in his direction. The curse, some will say, was lifted by President Reagan's exiting the office in 1989 alive. We beg to differ. But, that's just our opinion. Some may say also, darkly, that the last President, given his popularity upon completion of his tenure, might have preferred the curse's continued sustenance. Perhaps, the result left to the country is a fate worse than death; time will tell.

We doubt it. As they say, better to be a live dog than a dead lion. We suppose. But we haven't yet had occasion to try the latter status and so cannot say for sure.

In any event, to Tecumseh's brother or whoever the idiot was who exerted the curse on the nation: You were a real ___-__-_-_____. And you died, too, you little scalping redskin Fascist Nazi ___-__-_-_____.

Grunewald.

Ah, Juicy Fruit.