Archive for the ‘MY OWN BLOGS AND WRITINGS’ Category

Death Be Not Proud, Ode to Trayvon Martin   Leave a comment


There is something in his eyes that resognates a boy loving his, he plain and simple looked happy.  There in his picture lies the face of a child any parent would be proud of, he did not look menacing, he did not look angry or different.  He looked all american, solid and sure of himself as we all are at the tender age of 17.  He played sports, loved his family and had a girlfriend, just adorably typical.

There is no mugshot of Trayvon to portray to the news media that he was a thug, he was again, typical.  And that will be the downfall for George Zimmerman, God Willing.  If the nation were stupid, Zimmerman would have all of us thinking Trayvon was a wayward thug, a punk, sadly enough, no good.  The defense went so far as to dig up Trayvon’s high school record in which he had a suspension for possession of weed.  Welcome to teenage America, this would apply to many teenage kids.  I will flat out tell anyone I think Zimmerman is a coward, a born coward, who wanted to be a hero and a child died as he tried to fulfill his dream. Although we will never really know the circumstances of  what actually happened, certainly Zimmerman isn’t going to implicate himself.  Yeah, implicate, which would mean him telling the truth that it was he who was the perpetrator and Trayvon was the hunted.

If that was the end of it, and Zimmerman was booked and charged with the crime, this would not be a case in which the world is watching.  It is the underlying message of complete disregard for the civil rights of not only Trayvon, but his family who will live with this indeliable memory forever.  Let’s face it, where do we go after the loss of a child, what path do we follow when our children become our dreams for the future.  I don’t know, I can only pray they find some way to live without Trayvon comfortably.

Zimmerman claims he was attacked from behind by Trayvon, a kid who just left a convenience store at 7:00 p.m. with a bag of skittles and an iced tea, not a contender for a crook on the prowl as Zimmerman tried to justify he was looking for.  He was innocently talking on the phone with his girlfriend when the struggle ensued.  He told police Martin attacked him from behind, punched him in the nose, wrestled hm to the ground and violently bashed his head on the sidewalk.  He then said he pulled out his 9mm handgun and shot Martin in the chest.  Stop there, there’s something terribly wrong with this scenerio, case and point, the sizes of both men. I do not see this happening, and not many can say they do.   And if that were the case, after having his nose punched, and his head bashed against concrete, there would of been physical evidence to demonstrate that, instead, a fit looking Zimmerman with no abrasions walked without aid into the police deparment for questioning.  

In addition, the funeral director who handled Martin’s body stated there were no cuts or other marks on the teenager’s hands that would suggest a violent altercation.  Zimmerman is lying, I speak with no objectivity, I know he is lying.

I find it difficult to believe that a small boy like Trayvon would fathom taking up with a much more intimidating figure like Zimmerman.  I am stating my opinion when I commence that he somehow frightened Trayvon in a bad way.  Whether Trayvon fought back is in question as well since there were no bruises or offensive wounds on his body according to the autopsy report. 

So let’s talk about Zimmerman, who portrayed himself as the victim to police and said he shot Trayvon in self defense.  He is known to have a Jekyll and Hyde personality by his colleagues, one man stating “when he snapped, he snapped”.  He desperately wanted to be a cop and was rejected.  He worked for two agencies that provided security for parties and was fired for being too aggressive.  One co-worker claimed he became a liability due to his temper. 

In one case, a woman was acting a little out of control, she had too much to drink when Zimmerman lost his temper, picked her up and threw her in a pure rage.  She twisted her ankle.

Following the murder, Martin’s family said police officers told them Zimmerman had a clean arrest record.  But a cursory search of county records showed a 2005 arrest on charges of resisting arrest and assaulting a law enforcement officer.  Need I mention Zimmerman is the son of a retired judge and his mother was a court clerk, which means he had connections who I do believe would do their best to cover for him.  There were other arrests for violent assaults, one on Veronica Zuazo who filed a restraining order against him. Three years earlier, Zimmerman attacked her while the two were driving to a counseling session smacking her repeatedly across the face.  He was enraged she had come home late, stop there, I think it’s suffice to say Zimmerman had big problems, a superior personality with an inferiority complex.  These are just a few cases of many altercations with the police in which his arrests were all closed due to his connections.

How he became watch cop for the retreat at Twin Lakes, I don’t know, but what I do know is that he secured a gun and witnesses drew statements stating that he had a fetish for young black males.  Armed with his gun, he set out to patrol the neighborhood of Twin Lakes when he came across Martin.  He was self-appointed as a captain of the neighborhood watch at Twin Lakes and he took his job seriously always calling 911, in recent years he had called 46 times.  He phoned into dispatch and stated there was a suspicious man in a hoodie, the dispatcher warned him not to follow Martin, but Zimmerman wouldn’t stand for that, he had something to prove, he was going to be a hero. He completely disregarded what the dispatch said which was to not follow Trayvon and he ignored her.

The rest of the true story will never come to pass because Zimmerman swears by his innocence, that big bad Trayvon, who according to his girfriend who was on the phone with him, asked Zimmerman twice why he was following him in which he did not answer.

So George let’s get real, c’mon, be a man.  It is obviously your practice to pick on others and intimidte them, you have the personality make up of a bully.  So for the sake of the Martin’s, please stop hiding under your Daddy’s cloak and for once act like a man and show remorse. What compelled you to stalk a frightened child, panic him, and then murder him.  What and who are you to commit such a vile act against another human being.

Your crying now, and you have your Daddy, who by the way George, cannot save you from this one, and your brother advocating for your innocence.  But you see George, the truth is your not innocent, you have brought pain to many people in the past, and now, geez, God forgive you, you have maimed an entire family for once and for all time to come.  Being a bigshot, had to have that gun, you needed to be in, well, this much I’ll tell you.  There will be a day of reckoning.  You will face a jury of your peers and you will have to demonstrate the impossible, that a little guy like Trayvon Martin frightened you to the point that your life was in danger.

George Zimmerman, I have never said this to a living soul, you destroyed so many people, I haven’t a lick of sympathy for you, you waited for this, you wanted this, you fantasized about this and now you have your fantasy fulfilled.  And you cry, as if the world is supposed to shed a tear for your plight. 

Plain and simple is the way i see it, you killed a kid, and I don’t take likely to that, he had his entire life before him and you snuffed it out as if it were part of the events of your day.  The fortress is, and will continue to be surrounded until justice is served.  I regret nothing I write, I have alot of compassion, and too much mercy, but that face, that angelic face, you murdered him, and you know it was without provocation.  You had an axe to grind and something to prove.

I await the victim’s statement once you are sent to prison, I will be happy that the Martin’s receive whatever closure they can out of this senseless, self-serving vigalantism.  You deserve everything you have coming your way.

God Bless Trayvon Martin

Posted April 1, 2012 by pennylibertygbow in MY OWN BLOGS AND WRITINGS

Growing Up McGuire   2 comments


I came into the world not much different than the rest of my brothers and sisters, in those days we called it a hard entrance.  My Mother told me in my adult years she gave each of us one good year, and from there, we were on our own.  And we were, we fended for ourselves, played and interacted with the others by ourselves, there was no instruction.  More came after me, I was the seventh child, and each year thereafter, another baby was on it’s way.  Questions of where babies came from were answered simply, we were all purchased at the Shop Rite at the on-sale isle.  Dad was a cop, he came home every morning since I can remember, and in his uniform cooked for all 12 of us, plus some neighborhood stragglers.  He had a car that had an indian head on the front, we thought it was amazing, but it had a problem breaking down alot.  Life was different then although it wasn’t so long ago.  You may think I’m going to get all mushy about the good old days, and you can forget it, life was miserable.  The house was 1,000 years old, the roof leaked, it was always a mess, so bad I couldn’t have friends over, there were no toys, no Christmas, and anybody who was lucky enough to get a bike knew it was pure courtesy of the police department.  In those days, if you didn’t claim your goods after a year, the cops could help themselves.  My father indulged quite frequently in mish mosh items, relied on the kindness of the neighbors and welcomed charity.  I told you it was miserable and I meant it. 

Every year, Dad piled us into his crazy looking enormous car and we would go off to the Police Picnic, this was our vacation for the year, our one family day out.  And no matter what, it did not matter, he left a kid behind when we left.  As a young kid, it didn’t phase me, but as I got older, the embarrasment was overwhelming.  Once a month, we went to O’Dowd’s ice cream polar, and I can remember the waiting and the anticipation of taking that long trip three towns away for an ice-cream cone.  But you see, there were so many flavors to choose from, my mouth watered the first time we went and I walked up to the cashier, i couldn’t decide and i was taking too long, and I just didn’t want to mess up.  I asked her one by one the flavors until my Dad broke in and ordered the girl to give us all chocolate chips, right down the line, chocolate chip.  From thereonin, it was chocolate chip. 

Dad was always in a rush, he always had somewhere to be at a certain hour, he would shoo us into the car like nobody’s business and that’s the truth.  He didn’t care who was in or out, Dad had an agenda and he lived by the watch.  One time he pulled away with my sister Bridget (I’ll get to her) hanging out the door of the back seat, thankfully my Mother screamed, he screamed too at Bridget telling her he had to go to work.  Life sucked, but i didn’t know it yet.  Dad would spend his days off fixing our bicycle tires, and as a kid, it was great, I was proud.  That stopped at the age of 12.  I remember  he fixed my tire despite my protests and of course, keeping with tradition, he had to take a test spin with my banana seat. 

And that’s how it went for us, we lived on a busy street and it was an absolute horror to realize how many friends he had who would wave to him as he rode, all 6’3 of him, on our bikes down the bridge to test the tire.  Life sucked then for real, cause I knew what the deal was by then. 

There was no refuge nor is there for a child who comes from a family of 12, it meant everyone mistaked you for another sibling, it meant you always had to take your younger sibling along with you and life sucked, I had Bridget.  If there was one saving grace through it all, it would be the fact that we were all blessed with good looks.  I still thank God for that, we were redeemed in that respect, we fit in well and found some way to dress well.  But boy did we know a thing or two about shame and embarrasment.  It didn’t matter what, when or where, there were no options, Bridget was to come with me. 

Let me describe Bridget so maybe you will understand a little about trauma.  Bridget always had bugers in her nose, always no matter what, I would rush her to the bathroom after school and make her wash her face and those bugers would grow back by the time we hit the front steps.  She had the social graces of a buffalo, she would scream and kick if she didn’t get her way and she wore the same dress every day.  Bridget!  I guess I should mention that wasn’t all, Bridget had enemies, and it was always my problem to take care of them.  One day she told me a girl named Toney was harrassing her, this was commonplace, every day she had this problem, I told her I’d talk to her just to get her out of my hair so I could enjoy what little freedom I had during recess.  I didn’t even think much more about it until after school as I waited, I saw Bridget walking proudly with a big smirk on her face, smug like, and behind her was the biggest girl I had ever seen in my life.  I can remember that day as if it were yesterday, my mouth went dry and I froze.  I was terrified, and it didn’t matter she was a year younger than me, this girl was massive for her age.  She was wearing a short skirt that displayed tree trunks for legs and she sported a bow in her hair.   I tried to regroup, and what’s more, I needed desperately to save face in front of my own peers.  That’s when Big mouth Bridget told Toney that I said I could whoop her ass.  Toney pushed me and I saw stars, I got up as the kids chanted in different directions.  It was too confusing to me, I needed time, I needed to think my way out of Bridget’s mess, and I could hear Bridget chanting from the sidelines tantalizing Toney that she was about to get a beating.  Bridget!  All I can really say now is that I don’t remember much after that, Toney pushed me, rolled me, stomped on me, and made my body look like a raggity stuffed animal.  Can’t even remember who or how it was broken up, I can remember nothing but Bridget cheering up and down about how I showed her.  This is a true story, it happened, it is difficult to believe it too, because not many people can identify growing up in a megawatt family, or the responsibilities to take care of the younger ones that came with it. Bridget!!!!!!  Her hair made things worse, she had long hair, curly hair, really wild, curly hair that I would tame every morning, but by the end of the day, it was crazy looking. 

Bridget was my cross, I had no choice, but I loved her because she was so damn pathetic.  I thought she was the dumbest person in the world, just plain dim-witted and she couldn’t help herself, kind of simple ya know.  And then she had to go and take cello lessons, of course, make life easier and carry a 6 ft guitar everywhere we went.

I don’t know how I managed but I hung around with the most popular crowd in school, but they didn’t care for Bridget.  Like I said, she was a thorn in my side, it was just one of those things you couldn’t do anything about and life sucked.  But one thing was good for sure, we were all a year apart and we all hung around with the same types of people and by the time we started to collect together in packs, there was no stress about Bridget. They knew she came with the deal.  My suffering ended because of a good lookng brother all the girls wanted. 

There was no such thing as solitude, no such thing as selfishness, no such thing as demanding, no such thing as sulking.  There just wasn’t none of that to be had.  We had one Mother who took off every year for the shoprite to buy a baby and it took a week, and there was Dad, who ruled with an iron fist.  Tragedies to other people seem benign to me, being late for work never made me sweat, and neither did hard work ever scare me.  I was one of the hardest working girls in town and I knew it, everyone wanted to hire one of my sisters or myself.  Not Bridget, she was a liability. 

With my siblings, all 11 of them, if you saw one, there would be two close by and this I will say is the God’s honest truth, we stuck together, and that means nobody got to badmouth any who I held sacred, even Bridget.  We were notorious for being a collective force to be reckoned with if need be.

My parents insisted we all received an education, and I’ll tell you they were hard years in which everyone pulled their weight.  It was as if we were a windmill churning, all of us working as much as we could and turning our paychecks over to ourDad to get the first three through school, then the other three, and so on.  That’s how it worked, and I suppose because my world was so limited, I never minded, I saw my friends buying beautiful clothes, and of course I wanted them, buteven at that age, I knew there was a higher purpose, that I was a cog in a wheel and without one cog, the wheel would break.  It was that important.

So life was not a bowl of cherries, never was growing up, and I kind of think of it as natural in a way.  I know I indulge tremendously on my two sons, get them the latest and greatest, i sense part of that is because I never experienced Christmas, but as I write and remember those days, I can only remember it as being one way, and that was the right way.

We all graduated college, Bridget if you could believe, ended up going to Columbia University along with some others in my family, and although I am writing about this now, doesn’t mean I think of those times often.  But i will tell you i have a smile on my face as I type.  Bridget!!!!  And that’s how we said it.

They are years past now, and times have changed so much, we as a family changed so much.  Sometimes I feel like everything is so fancy now, and artificial and I want to go back in a way to a time that we were together and had time for one another.  Time to sit for hours and talk, or play, we would take adventure walks, go to the park, and just be.  Now there’s no time, everybody’s so busy and involved with their own lives, including me.  Every meeting is now organized and it kind of takes something away from the experience of enjoying each other.

Well, this is a blog right, and I suppose I have the choice to save it as a draft or press the publish button so I could air my dirty laundry to the world.  It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.  I could be babysitting Bridget!!!

Posted April 1, 2012 by pennylibertygbow in MY OWN BLOGS AND WRITINGS

Man’s Best Friend, a Story of Betrayal, Penny Liberty   Leave a comment


After a couple of years of trials and appeals, the North Carolina Court of Appeals finally ruled that the trooper Charles Jones, who was fired from the force in 2007, is to be reinstated with back pay. Jones was dismissed from the job for using excessive force on his K-9, and he’s been battling to get his job back since.

What got him fired was one of the other troopers handing in two 15 second video clips that showed Jones kicking his dog to make him drop the chew toy he had in his mouth. Jones former supervisor Lt. Col. Cecil Lockley said in his testimony that they were planning to discipline Jones, but got instructions from “higher ground” to release him from his Highway Patrol position. The order came from then-governor Mike Easley’s office and wasn’t questioned. Lockley admits that Jones’ discipline method used on the dog named Ricoh was “ugly”, but not beyond the accepted training techniques.

 

John Midgette, executive director of the North Carolina Police Benevolent Association, said:
“These dogs are not pets. They are deadly weapons, and (if they are) not handled properly, people can get hurt – innocent people can get hurt.”

Jones is going to get a back pay of an estimated $200.000 – $240.000, and it is yet unclear whether he’s planning to go back to his old job or continue working for the Apex Police Department, where he was hired four months after he lost his first job.

Posted April 1, 2012 by pennylibertygbow in MY OWN BLOGS AND WRITINGS

The Oath, by Penny Liberty   Leave a comment


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After months of no progress in the investigation of the death of 45-year-old Darrin Hanna, his relatives conducted an independent autopsy which brings new evidence that his death was a direct result of beating by North Chicago cops.

Darrin Hanna succumbed to injuries after getting beaten by six police officers who came in response to a domestic dispute 911 call. They beat the man and shocked him with a stun gun repeatedly for 20 minutes, even though he didn’t resist arrest.

Attorney Kevin O’Connor says that the autopsy undoubtedly proves that Hanna’s death was caused by severe beating. Some of the numerous injuries listed in the detailed report include multiple internal contusions and acute spleen damage. It is also most likely that the beating triggered sickle cell disease in Hanna’s body. “It’s commonly known that sickle cell can be brought on by trauma. And as result of that trauma he had multi-system organ failure and died, O’Connor said.

The state police said to the reporters, “the Hanna investigation should be wrapping up soon” while Hanna’s family and relatives believe that he would be still alive today if the North Chicago police officers had been properly disciplined for previous allegations of excessive force.

 

 

 

 

 

Posted April 1, 2012 by pennylibertygbow in MY OWN BLOGS AND WRITINGS

My Mother, My Confidence   Leave a comment


I never had intentions to write, I never saw myself writng nor did i see myself ever pursuing anything even close.  That’s not to say I was not encouraged by teachers, mentors and friends. 

I actually felt blah about the whole thing,  and remarkably,  I landed my first job at CBS, the epicenter of journalism.

They didn’t know I could write, and I didn’t let on that I could, to me it was best to be left alone where it belonged.  Over the years, I found myself jotting notes, usually feelings i needed to get out and sometimes for children, I would create stories during holidays.

And who knows how this will go, I like it, I feel relaxed and easy with it, I don’t feel strained, it just comes out, so I will do the best I can and try not to compare myself to others. I am not a technical writer, I write about life, and social injustices, which suits me because I always felt a kinship towards all of mankind.  I grew up one of 12 kids, and life was hard.  There was never enough money, geez, there wasn’t Christmas, things others take for granted but I survived.  I had a crowning jewel, and that was my Mother.  Yup, she was enough, and boy did I adore her.  She was my gold, and anyone who knew me would know one thing about me, if I couldn’t be found I was with her.

We had great times, we went out on Friday nights for pizza and ice cream.  Coming from a big family with 7 sisters, well there was alot of jealousy, everyone knew she favored me.  I made her laugh, and I suppose she sensed the same things in me she did within herself, which was i was never about the money.  My sisters were, and I love them, and don’t fault them for it, they grew up poor, and wanted more out of life.  I was different and in a sense even that frustrated them, but not my mother.  She had a sense of knowing that I was just as capable of marrying into wealth as all of my sisters and I wasn’t opposed to it at all, I just fell in love with a baker. 

Back to the jealousy, as we began to marry and have children it got worse, it pains me to say this but my mother adored my children in the same way she loved me.  She had an extremely strong bond with my oldest son and that’s just the way it was.  My sisters were very verbal to her about it, citing favoritism towards me and it broke my heart for her.  You see, those are things you cannot help or hide, let’s face it this is life, and you sometimes just gravitate more towards who you feel most comfortable with, and that was me.

I never imagined life without my mom, i could honestly say there was never a time I entertained any thought that one day she would not be with me, and if there was one thing i knew for sure, she would never leave without saying goodbye.  This, you see, was my ace in the whole.  I once heard it said that a person won’t leave the earth unless their loved ones let them go, and as I think back now, it was not malicious, but she wasn’t going anywhere as far as I was there to stop it.  I know it sounds selfish, but I’m honest, and that’s the way i felt.

It was a hot day in July when the phone rang, it was my sister.  She told me my mother had to have gall bladder surgery and she was just fine, my kids were really little so I was pretty preoccupied and didn’t give it much though.  I decided that Friday night to go see how she was doing, and when I got to the light outside the hospital, I had a moment which paralyzed me in my very seat.  I knew for some reason, despite all that was told to me, that my mother wasn’t coming home.  I will never understand that, or why I felt that way, but it was strong.  I walked onto the fifth floor where she was and when I seen her, I knew it was bad, we all did.  She had taken a turn for the worse.

It doesn’t matter that she had an operation which we were told was successful, and lifted our spirits, what matters in the end was that the operation could not have saved her. It was too late.

I went home for the night and stared into space, and thought about my ace card, she would have to stay, i would make her.  I felt like half of me was dying, in the most literal sense.  But I had that card, and she couldn’t leave, because if there was one thing i was sure of was that my mother would never leave me without saying goodbye, not ever.

The next morning when I awoke, I felt completely rested, it was almost strange how rested i felt despite what was transpiring.  My children were playing when it happened, I became tired, very tired.  I asked my children to snuggle up to me and before i knew it the three of us were fast asleep.  It reminded me of the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy ran through the poppi field.  I was wakened by the phone ringing and i grabbed it fast, i was confused and looked at the clock.  It was 1:10 p.m. and right then I knew this was it, this was the phone call of all phone calls, the one phone call I never dreamed of getting, it was my sister who was screaming.

I simply told her calmly i would meet her at the hospital, and I proceeded to pack a bag for my children and I calmly walked to the neighbors and asked if she could babysit, there was  a family emergency.  I calmly got in my car, and I calmly drove the speed limit all the way to the hospital. 

I did not run out of the car after arriving at the hospital, I walked again, calmly towards the lobby.  Hmm, the lobby was filled with policemen, and when I say I did not make the connection at all, I mean that.  All my brothers and father were in law enforcement.  They wouldn’t let me upstairs, i had to be cleared by the chief of police who knew me well.  I walked to the elevator and got on and then pressed the button for the 5th floor. 

As the elevator door opened I got out and right then, the walls began to close in on me.  I remember i was wearing capri pants, a pink button down and wedged black flips, I picked up pace until I began to run.  I remember thinkng I must be crazy running towards something like this and it occurred to me I could turn around and I didn’t ever have to know.  I could still hear the sound of my wedges as I ran.  As I turned the corner, through doors with windows, I could see the majority of my family, they saw me, but nobody was coming towards me.  This was bad, but there was still time i thought because now i was there.  I opened the door and said ‘ok, i’m here, let’s go see her’, and was met with silence.  My sister looked at me and said it, she said it, the words I knew I could never handle hearing, the words that could collapse my world like a deck of cards, Mommy’s gone.

I won’t go further into my reaction, it is too personal, all I do know is when I calmed down and as we were all leaving, they were going to my sisters house, i just left.  I walked to my car and went on my own, I drove to my Mother’s house and went to her room.  I picked up her fresh clean nightgown’s and held them to my nose and sobbed.  I heard the phone ringing and ringing and I just stayed in that position for hours until dark and finally fell asleep.  I woke up to my husband rubbing my hair, but I felt nothing, the man I loved all of my life could not protect me from this, this was very specific to me.

She was gone, and she left without saying goodbye.  How could she, how after all we had been through as Mother and daughter, we were best friends, she owed me that.  I was despondent.

It was the hardest year of my life without her, learning to live without her, learning to accept that it was forever in this life i wouldn’t see her again, I wore sunglasses constantly because i simply could not stop the tears.  I never knew death would be so physically painful.  I was lost and filled with the most sorrowful feeling I ever want to know, God willing.

Ya know, I know alot of people talk about closure, and I guess that’s good, but for me it’s not the same, I never got over her, there never was a day when I said to myself, I have closure now.   However, I will say this, after she died, my favorite time of the day was the first three seconds when I didn’t remember anything at all and it would come in a wave, she was gone.  Each Friday night I forced myself to do something different, to change course, I tried all I could to forget her.  It got to the point that I conceded if I were to go on at all, I would have to pretend I never knew her.  The pain was that great for me, others i hear heal faster, i didn’t, it took a full year for me to feel that I could at least do it a day at a time. 

We all have Mothers, or Fathers or Caregivers whom we love, some people get lucky and keep them for a long time.   I hadn’t such luck, I lost her young and lost her when I needed her the most.

Again, no closure, but solace.  I now feel her, and talk to her, and I know she is there, and I’ll never understand that sense or part of me that just knows.  She was the best I ever did, and the love i had for her was so deep it scared me half to death thinking my sons would ever love me that much.

But this is life, and we lose, I just didn’t know it because so much happened with 12 kids we always beat the wheel.  We were lucky that way, and I thank God for that.  I never told this story, I guess it is the secret of my heart, one in which I suppose is all i have left of her.  But logically I know this isn’t true, she would want me to tell it, or to express it somehow and now I am.

She was my Mother, my Confidence

Posted April 1, 2012 by pennylibertygbow in MY OWN BLOGS AND WRITINGS

Death Be Not Proud, an Ode To Trayvon Martin   Leave a comment


There is something in eyes that proclaims,  “I love life”, he plain and simply looked happy.  There in his picture lies the face of a child any parent would be proud of, he did not look menacing, he did not look angry or different.  He looked all american, solid and sure of himself as we all are at the tender age of 17.  He played sports, loved his family and had a girlfriend, just adorably typical.

There is no mugshot of Trayvon to portray to the news media that he was a thug, he was again, typical.  And that will be the downfall for George Zimmerman, God Willing.  If the nation were stupid, Zimmerman would have all of us thinking Trayvon was a wayward thug, a punk, sadly enough, no good.  The defense went so far as to dig up Trayvon’s high school record in which he had a suspension for possession of weed.  Welcome to teenage America, this would apply to many teenage kids.  I will flat out tell anyone I think Zimmerman is a coward, a born coward, who wanted to be a hero and a child died as he tried to fulfill his dream. Although we will never really know the circumstances of  what actually happened, certainly Zimmerman isn’t going to implicate himself.  Yeah, implicate, which would mean him telling the truth that it was he who was the perpetrator and Trayvon was the hunted.

If that was the end of it, and Zimmerman was booked and charged with the crime, this would not be a case in which the world is watching.  It is the underlying message of complete disregard for the civil rights of not only Trayvon, but his family who will live with this indeliable memory forever.  Let’s face it, where do we go after the loss of a child, what path do we follow when our children become our dreams for the future.  I don’t know, I can only pray they find some way to live without Trayvon comfortably.

Zimmerman claims he was attacked from behind by Trayvon, a kid who just left a convenience store at 7:00 p.m. with a bag of skittles and an iced tea, not a contender for a crook on the prowl as Zimmerman tried to justify he was looking for.  He was innocently talking on the phone with his girlfriend when the struggle ensued.  He told police Martin attacked him from behind, punched him in the nose, wrestled hm to the ground and violently bashed his head on the sidewalk.  He then said he pulled out his 9mm handgun and shot Martin in the chest.  Stop there, there’s something terribly wrong with this scenerio, case and point, the sizes of both men. I do not see this happening, and not many can say they do.   And if that were the case, after having his nose punched, and his head bashed against concrete, there would of been physical evidence to demonstrate that, instead, a fit looking Zimmerman with no abrasions walked without aid into the police deparment for questioning.  

In addition, the funeral director who handled Martin’s body stated there were no cuts or other marks on the teenager’s hands that would suggest a violent altercation.  Zimmerman is lying, I speak with no objectivity, I know he is lying.

I find it difficult to believe that a small boy like Trayvon would fathom taking up with a much more intimidating figure like Zimmerman.  I am stating my opinion when I commence that he somehow frightened Trayvon in a bad way.  Whether Trayvon fought back is in question as well since there were no bruises or offensive wounds on his body according to the autopsy report. 

So let’s talk about Zimmerman, who portrayed himself as the victim to police and said he shot Trayvon in self defense.  He is known to have a Jekyll and Hyde personality by his colleagues, one man stating “when he snapped, he snapped”.  He desperately wanted to be a cop and was rejected.  He worked for two agencies that provided security for parties and was fired for being too aggressive.  One co-worker claimed he became a liability due to his temper. 

In one case, a woman was acting a little out of control, she had too much to drink when Zimmerman lost his temper, picked her up and threw her in a pure rage.  She twisted her ankle.

Following the murder, Martin’s family said police officers told them Zimmerman had a clean arrest record.  But a cursory search of county records showed a 2005 arrest on charges of resisting arrest and assaulting a law enforcement officer.  Need I mention Zimmerman is the son of a retired judge and his mother was a court clerk, which means he had connections who I do believe would do their best to cover for him.  There were other arrests for violent assaults, one on Veronica Zuazo who filed a restraining order against him. Three years earlier, Zimmerman attacked her while the two were driving to a counseling session smacking her repeatedly across the face.  He was enraged she had come home late, stop there, I think it’s suffice to say Zimmerman had big problems, a superior personality with an inferiority complex.  These are just a few cases of many altercations with the police in which his arrests were all closed due to his connections.

How he became watch cop for the retreat at Twin Lakes, I don’t know, but what I do know is that he secured a gun and witnesses drew statements stating that he had a fetish for young black males.  Armed with his gun, he set out to patrol the neighborhood of Twin Lakes when he came across Martin.  He was self-appointed as a captain of the neighborhood watch at Twin Lakes and he took his job seriously always calling 911, in recent years he had called 46 times.  He phoned into dispatch and stated there was a suspicious man in a hoodie, the dispatcher warned him not to follow Martin, but Zimmerman wouldn’t stand for that, he had something to prove, he was going to be a hero. He completely disregarded what the dispatch said which was to not follow Trayvon and he ignored her.

The rest of the true story will never come to pass because Zimmerman swears by his innocence, that big bad Trayvon, who according to his girfriend who was on the phone with him, asked Zimmerman twice why he was following him in which he did not answer.

So George let’s get real, c’mon, be a man.  It is obviously your practice to pick on others and intimidte them, you have the personality make up of a bully.  So for the sake of the Martin’s, please stop hiding under your Daddy’s cloak and for once act like a man and show remorse. What compelled you to stalk a frightened child, panic him, and then murder him.  What and who are you to commit such a vile act against another human being.

Your crying now, and you have your Daddy, who by the way George, cannot save you from this one, and your brother advocating for your innocence.  But you see George, the truth is your not innocent, you have brought pain to many people in the past, and now, geez, God forgive you, you have maimed an entire family for once and for all time to come.  Being a bigshot, had to have that gun, you needed to be in, well, this much I’ll tell you.  There will be a day of reckoning.  You will face a jury of your peers and you will have to demonstrate the impossible, that a little guy like Trayvon Martin frightened you to the point that your life was in danger.

George Zimmerman, I have never said this to a living soul, you destroyed so many people, I haven’t a lick of sympathy for you, you waited for this, you wanted this, you fantasized about this and now you have your fantasy fulfilled.  And you cry, as if the world is supposed to shed a tear for your plight. 

Plain and simple is the way i see it, you killed a kid, and I don’t take likely to that, he had his entire life before him and you snuffed it out as if it were part of the events of your day.  The fortress is, and will continue to be surrounded until justice is served.  I regret nothing I write, I have alot of compassion, and too much mercy, but that face, that angelic face, you murdered him, and you know it was without provocation.  You had an axe to grind and something to prove.

I await the victim’s statement once you are sent to prison, I will be happy that the Martin’s receive whatever closure they can out of this senseless, self-serving vigalantism.  You deserve everything you have coming your way.

God Bless Trayvon Martin

Posted April 1, 2012 by pennylibertygbow in MY OWN BLOGS AND WRITINGS

A day in the life of a dog, by Penny Liberty   Leave a comment


After a couple of years of trials and appeals, the North Carolina Court of Appeals finally ruled that the trooper Charles Jones, who was fired from the force in 2007, is to be reinstated with back pay. Jones was dismissed from the job for using excessive force on his K-9, and he’s been battling to get his job back since.

What got him fired was one of the other troopers handing in two 15 second video clips that showed Jones kicking his dog to make him drop the chew toy he had in his mouth. Jones former supervisor Lt. Col. Cecil Lockley said in his testimony that they were planning to discipline Jones, but got instructions from “higher ground” to release him from his Highway Patrol position. The order came from then-governor Mike Easley’s office and wasn’t questioned. Lockley admits that Jones’ discipline method used on the dog named…

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Posted April 1, 2012 by pennylibertygbow in MY OWN BLOGS AND WRITINGS