I wish I was in the land of cotton,
Old times there are not forgotten,
Oy veh!
Oy veh!
Oy veh, Dixieland!
OY VEH, indeed:
A justice of the peace said he refused to issue a marriage license to an interracial couple last week because of concern for the children who might be born of that relationship.
Keith Bardwell, justice of the peace for Tangipahoa Parish’s 8th Ward, also said it is his experience that most interracial marriages do not last long.
“I’m not a racist,” Bardwell said. “I do ceremonies for black couples right here in my house. My main concern is for the children.”
Beth Humphrey, 30, said she and her boyfriend, Terence McKay, 32, both of Hammond, intend to consult the U.S. Justice Department about filing a discrimination complaint.
Humphrey said she called Bardwell Oct. 6 to inquire about getting a marriage license signed. She said Bardwell’s wife told her that Bardwell will not sign marriage licenses for interracial couples.
“I simply can’t believe he can do that. That’s blatant discrimination,” Humphrey said.
The Louisiana American Civil Liberties Union and the Tangipahoa Parish Chapter of the NAACP agree.
Louisiana ACLU Executive Director Marjorie R. Esman said Bardwell’s refusal to sign the license is both “tragic and illegal.”
Pat Morris, NAACP Tangipahoa Parish chapter president, said she was shocked to hear that the choice of a spouse is still an issue in Tangipahoa Parish.
IF THE HEAD of the NAACP in Tangipahoa Parish, La., told the reporter for the Hammond (La.) Daily Star she was shocked by anti-miscegenation justices of the peace, surely she meant it in the same manner that Capt. Renault was "shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on" at Rick's.
If the race-mixing bugaboo still weren't an issue in the Gret Stet, you wouldn't have had politicians trying to trump a "white-woman scandal" last year to torpedo the re-election bid of Baton Rouge's African-American mayor-president.It didn't work, by the way. But probably because it was just too ridiculous, even by Louisiana standards -- not because there aren't any shortage of people who'd be scandalized.Again, from the Daily Star article:Toward the conclusion of her conversation with Bardwell’s wife, Humphrey said she was asked if this was an interracial marriage. Humphrey told her it was.
“I have no idea why she asked me that,” Humphrey said. “I suppose she asks everyone that question.”
Humphrey said the wife told her that Bardwell does not do interracial marriages.
“I don’t understand this because he is an elected official and discrimination is against the law,” Humphrey said.
Bardwell, who is handicapped, said he has been a JP for 34 years and has never had opposition, but this is his last term.
According to the Secretary of State’s elected officials database, his current term will expire Dec. 31, 2014.
Bardwell said from his experience, “99 percent of the time” the interracial couple consists of a black man and white woman.
“I find that rather confusing,” he said.
He said he has discussed the topic with blacks and whites, along with witnessing some interracial marriages. Bardwell said he came to the conclusion that most black society does not readily accept offspring of such relationships, and neither does white society.
“Yet, the children are innocent. They had nothing to do with that,” he said.
In many cases, he said, the grandparents or a relative ends up with the children.
“I don’t do interracial marriages because I don’t want to put children in a situation they didn’t bring on themselves,” Bardwell said. “In my heart, I feel the children will later suffer.”
He said if he does an interracial marriage for one couple, he must do the same for all.
“I try to treat everyone equally,” he said.
MY UNCLE TEDDY lived in Tangipahoa Parish, near Ponchatoula. And when he died -- this was when I was in high school -- I remember going to the wake at a Ponchatoula funeral home.My old man and some uncles struck up a conversation with the mortician, during which it was determined that it, indeed, was the "white" funeral home in town. The other funeral home was the "colored" one.This was in the late 1970s. If race-mixing was a problem for the dead then, you can pretty much bet a lot of folks down there still have a problem with it among the living.Obviously, there's a justice of the peace in that number.And -- in Louisiana, at least -- "Barack Obama" probably won't get you that far in arguing that being biracial isn't akin to having a dread disease and an extra arm growing out your butt for good measure.
Love, honor and cherish your BlackBerry.MORE THAN your wife. More than your kids.
Wives and kids are disposable. Thus, we have this story from WCBS-TV in New York: Of all the possible things that can come between spouses, you can now add BlackBerrys -- or more precisely -- BlackBerry addiction to the list.
A new study reveals BlackBerry's are becoming -- among other things -- the 800-pound gorilla in the bedroom.
'Berry, 'Berry, addictive?
"I live with it. I can't live without it," one New York City resident told CBS 2 HD.
Yeah ... there's a reason some call 'em ... CrackBerrys.
But are you having a love affair with yours?
"I am on my BlackBerry more than I see my boyfriend," one woman said.
The study of 6,500 traveling executives says 35 percent of them would choose their PDA over their spouse.
"That's a tough call," one said.
"Oh you don't want to go there," another added.
AND THEN, we have this story from the Omaha World-Herald: Nebraska lawmakers didn't expect the first children dropped off at hospitals under the state's new "safe haven" law would be a teenager and a preteen.
The law was intended to save newborns.
People who work with children and families say they were not surprised, though, and called the dropoffs a "wakeup call."
The 2-month-old law was used twice Saturday, both times by people leaving misbehaving adolescents with whom they could no longer cope.
An 11-year-old boy was dropped off Saturday afternoon at Immanuel Medical Center in Omaha. A few hours later, a 15-year-old boy was left at BryanLGH Medical Center West in Lincoln.
"This is what we feared," said Kathy Bigsby Moore, executive director for Voices for Children of Nebraska. "It appears this law has now created a new front door to the child welfare system."
Karen Authier, executive director of the Nebraska Children's Home society adoption agency, said the cases should be a "wakeup call" to alert communities to the need for more resources to help struggling families.
State Sen. Brad Ashford of Omaha, the chairman of the Judiciary Committee, said he had not anticipated many older children would be dropped off when he agreed to remove the age limit in the original safe haven proposal.
Upon reflection, however, he said the law's first use is an indicator that Nebraska needs better ways to deal with young people with behavioral problems. Other indicators, he said, include the level of gun violence in Omaha and teen suicides.
"It's an alarm bell, clearly another alarm signal," Ashford said. "I'm very concerned about how pervasive these issues are."
WE ARE A SICK BUNCH of SOBs, we enlightened and knowledgeable postmodern Americans.
There's no need for "safe haven" laws for CrackBerries. No one in his right mind would think of throwing one away.
What kind of barbarian would treat such a fine communication device like he would his wife? Or a child?
In all of my wife's and my years of helping out with youth group at our Catholic parish here in Omaha, there was one band of brothers who were absolute stalwarts in "Connections."
That would be Justin, Chris and Joel. Teen-agers aren't supposed to be that dependable . . . or universally good-natured . . . or selfless . . . or faith-filled, for that matter. It gets your attention when you run across the likes of Justin, Chris and Joel.
Mrs. Favog and I had the pleasure of watching this trio of eventual Eagle Scouts come into the high-school group as 14-year-old kids -- first Justin, then Chris a couple of years later, then Joel a couple of years after that. More than anything, you remember two things. First, that they were always there, and you could always count on them. Each of the three even worked in the church office.
Second, you remember knowing from the first time you saw them that they were going to grow up to be good men. God knows that's not nothing, not today. It's a lot.
OVER THE YEARS, amid the teen-age hustling mob, we watched Justin fall in love with Annie, then stand beside her right after graduation as she fought cancer. We always knew they'd get married, and they did -- we rushed to make it to a hurried ceremony at church, hours before Justin shipped off to Iraq.
He came back in one piece, finished his hitch, and then we watched as yesterday's high-school kids became parents of a dear little girl.
Likewise, we watched Chris grow into a fine young man and fall in love with Abby. I think "Connections," in some mystical Catholic way, must be some kind of institutional Yenta.
And this summer, after Chris' graduation from college, we all gathered for Chris and Abby's wedding. Of course, Joel -- the youngest sibling, now a newly minted paramedic -- was the life of the party.
A couple of us old farts reminded Joel that we would blackmail him, just as soon as his future children were old enough to hear stories about their old man.
And after the honeymoon, Chris was off to optometry school in Philadelphia, where his bride would join him this winter after her graduation.
NOW CHRIS lies in grave condition in a Philly hospital, having fallen victim to something they call Adult Respiratory Distress Syndrome. Today, the updates have gone from so-so to catastrophic.
It's not supposed to be this way: Chris and Abby have their whole lives together before them. Bright futures, successful careers, perfect children.
Grave illness is for middle-aged fat men like me. It's for those of us who have the luxury of thanking God for the grace of a life well lived, or mourning over roads not taken and opportunities squandered.
It's not fair that hopes and dreams, future years of marital love and generations to come should teeter upon some existential precipice, shakily tethered to this world by IV drips and a ventilator. There's something horribly and frighteningly wrong with this picture.
It's one of those mysteries we Catholics keep talking about. I've faced them before, real close to home. Now we face another.
And I hate it.
Please, if you have a moment, say a prayer for Chris and Abby. They need them so much, and life is so unfair.
