It was a good weekend at home. With my current assignment (on-call every day for the practice when I’m working), I’m scheduled to have one long weekend off (i.e. Friday/Saturday/Sunday) a month. Friday, I had lunch with two of my Yas. I was actually late for that because of the blog-battle waging at medGadget.
I should have left the current crop of "in" guys in the medical blogosphere to congratulate themselves, and been on time for my friends.
One of my Yas just finished a course of study in massage therapy and was going through the licensing process. I actually wrote her a letter of recommendation (although we joked that the State of North Carolina might not read a letter from Dr. Mary Johnson . . . as getting anyone in Raleigh to read a letter has been a big problem in the past). There were some hold-ups in the process . . . as the state did not process her paperwork in a timely fashion. She’s a graduate of East Carolina’s theater department, but the state of North Carolina (in its not-so-infinite wisdom) wanted her to prove she'd graduated high school (kind of redundant since East Carolina did admit her . . . and four-years later, granted her an undergraduate degree), so she skipped off to Asheboro High last week (grumbling all the way) to get someone to dig out her transcripts.
It’s been fun to watch my friend, who is bit of a bohemian and unaccustomed to idiotic bureaucracy, deal with idiotic bureaucracy. She got her license in the mail this week.
She’s now felt a small portion of my pain. I plan to be her first paying customer.
Saturday, I took Mama to Winston to see a sick friend/church member. He was in the palliative care unit at NC Baptist Hospital. I’ve said it before and I will say it again. I have worked all over this state. Nobody but nobody does it better than Baptist. We had a good visit with the family. He died on Sunday. Very sad.
I went to church on Sunday morning with Mama. At the end of the service, it was announced that evening services at First Baptist would be canceled in lieu of a community-wide prayer service to be held at Sunset Avenue Church of God (which has the largest auditorium in town). My radar perked up when our pastor explained that community leaders had approached local clergy en mass and asked for the service . . . to pray for divine intervention to deal with the host of community ills Asheboro now faces.
At the risk of not sounding “positive” (the subject of the pastor’s sermon), I have strong opinions as to WHY Asheboro now faces some of those ills (as well as WHO got us “sick” in the first place), and this exercise in mass-manipulation sounded like the bright marketing ploy of some corporate strategic planner . . . ala “Asheboro 20/20”. I briefly flashed back to the bad-old-days at Randolph Medical Associates, when their initial physician bonus plans were being bantered about . . . and the corporate gurus (i.e. Bob Morrison and Steven Eblin) offered “bonus” points (i.e. money) for doctors’ community involvement (i.e. attending church). At the time, I told them that (unlike Hillary Clinton) my soul/personal life was not for sale.
Although I generally am a "separation of church and state" kind of girl (don't get me wrong - I believe this nation was founded on Judeo-Christian princples and I believe that we have lost our way because those principles have largely been rejected) . . . and even though it would get me back to my home-away-from-home very late . . . I decided to go to the service.
My Mama (a teacher in the Asheboro school system for thirty-some years) declined to go with me, knowingly saying she had “been there and done all that” . . . for nearly forty years . . . noting wryly that the people who had asked for this ALWAYS have their own agenda. She made me promise that if I went, I would not say anything.
Calling around, one friend blew it off, saying it would be a “dog and pony show” (“besides, if Bob Morrison is there, you’re going to stand up and say something, I just know it’). Another friend left a message on my cell that it was “only and all about greed”.
So I went alone. And I sat in the middle of the church – not in the back (as most good Baptists do).
The program that was passed out was interesting. The event was called, “A Sacred Assembly, Joint Service of Asheboro’s Community of Faith”. The theme was from 1st John 1:9: If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness”.
At the opening of the service, which opened with song and responsive readings, it was explained that a series of meetings were held between city leaders and leading town clergy . . . at the request of business leaders. “We gather tonight as one people to come humbly before God to repent of our since and pray for the welfare of our community”.
From the responsive readings: The Word of God says, “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land” (2 Chronicles 7:14).
After more music (led ably by Frank White of FBC), the service entered a period of quiet contemplation. Those in attendance were asked to consider and pray quietly over a series of questions published in the program.
A lot of the scripture that preceded the questions emphasized forgiveness and loving one’s enemies . . . doing good to those who hate/curse/mistreat you . . . turning the other cheek . . . not judging or condemning people . . . not bearing grudges. And if you do these things, blessings will be heaped upon you.
I cannot deny that all of this is scriptural. But to me, given the past behavior of some of the people I saw in that sanctuary and on the program, it reeked of “cheap grace”.
Some of these guys obviously want to get off easy.
I also keep going back to the way this nation (greatly blessed) was founded. It wasn't because our Founding Fathers turned the other cheek. Tea in the harbor and all that. Lincoln's generals trounced the enemies of the union at Gettysburg . . . and drove a stake through the heart of the Confederacy during Sherman's march. They weren't "nice" about it. Hitler's ovens were not shut down by Churchill sitting down and shutting up . . . or the Allies staying "positive". I think God expects good men and women (as individuals and collectively) speak and to act when faced with great injustice.
Looking around the massive/modern sanctuary, I saw many of the people to whom I have appealed for help . . . local and state politicians, city council members, county commissioners, and (of course) the “fat-cat” local businessmen who sat on the Randolph Hospital's board of directors . . . all of whom (for all of their pretty talk about ethics and small town values) have turned a deaf ear in the case of Dr. Mary Johnson vs. Bob Morrison/Steven Eblin & Randolph Hospital.
And in that case, many of the people sitting in that sanctuary and asking the community for forgiveness and prayer obviously had not really sat down and truthfully answered the questions in their own program: Am I dishonest with others? Do I try to leave a wrong impression if I can do it without really telling a lie? Do I have anything in my possession that does not rightly belong to me? Do I seek to give my employees a fair wage? Do you give yourselves higher raises than your employees? Have I wronged anyone and failed to make restitution? If the reputation of another safe in my hands?
Of course, I could have added some questions for Bob Morrison and/or the "honorable" members of his hospital board: Have you flat-out/knowingly lied, while swearing under Oath that what you were saying was true? Did that lie hurt someone personally or professionally? Did that lie benefit you financially? Have you protected people who lied for you/your organization?
Back to the service. After a (long) period of contemplation, there was more singing and responsive reading. Then five representatives of the community were introduced by various pastors and presented their petitions (printed in the program for prayer). After each petition, people in the sanctuary were asked to pray in small groups. Each session was ended by a pastoral prayer.
Mayor Jarrell stepped up. And sure enough, the recommendations of the “energetic and progressive” exercise in corporate strategic planning called “Asheboro 20/20” were the focus of his prayer concerns. What the Mayor rattled off was textbook standard consultant-based politcalcorrectedness touting uniform community values such as: “safety (i.e. get rid of those gangs)”, “a good economy”, “a good education”, “recognizing the worth of individuals”, being “inclusive”, “championing change”, being “innovative”, etc.
In other words (as I mentally counted the many young/idealistic physicians who came to Asheboro and left in disgust . . . or had been driven out), everything this town has not done . . . as the established medical profession here ate its young.
As Jarrell made his presentation, I re-visited a conversation I had with one such young medical professional this past week . . . one who is still struggling against “the good-ole boy” system. New ideas and alternative medical techniques are belittled and marginalized. The young professional had expressed shock about encountering so many people who would not set foot in Randolph Hospital . . . people who live in the area that the hospital serves.
It was not so shocking to me. I shared with this professional the story of my own medical nightmares.
I love to watch people pick their jaws up off the floor.
As the Mayor pared down his list, I also flashed back to my own ugly departure from Randolph Medical Associates . . . as well as the days that some of my best friends left town to practice somewhere else . . . because they could not deal anymore with the way things were done in Asheboro.
My attention returned to Mayor Jarrell's presentation. Oh by the way, pray for rain.
Dr. Kelly Harris of the Asheboro City School Board was next. I was kind of glad Mama was not there. For Mama was right. She worked there. She did that. For over thirty years. And nothing changes. As in medicine, things in our school system have only gotten worse (just days after this service we got to read about "war crimes" at the high school). We’ve had that "getting worse" conversation on multiple occasions . . . the wise-beyond-words teacher comparing war stories with her daughter, the world-weary Pediatrician. Maybe someday I’ll do a post on the substance of that recurrent conversation. Suffice it to say, I’m grateful she’s out.
City Councilman David Smith was next up . . . putting in two cents for the business community. We were asked to pray for “economic prosperity and an entrepreneurial spirit” . . . as well as “wisdom to navigate a global economy”. We were asked to pray for those who had lost their jobs . . . and that new job opportunities be “economically friendly” . . . and that the NC Zoo help pump up the numbers in terms of business and educational opportunities.
The whole tenor and theme of the prayer service was really beginning to grate. I steeled myself for what I knew was coming.
Bob Morrison, CEO of Randolph Hospital, was next. He was introduced by none other than the pastor of FBC . . . the church where I grew up . . . the pastor of the child/her parents who found themselves entangled in one of Bob's medical nightmares ten long years ago . . . in the case that got me fired because I would not just shut up and look the other way.
It was kind of hard to take . . . given what the pastor knows. I mean, of all the people on the program to introduce, John had to front this guy?
I had not seen Bob prior to his appearance at the podium. Dressed casually in a sweater rather than a suit, he was apparently sitting in the audience. Interestingly, immediately prior to his appearance the entire pew in front of me suddenly vacated (a young family with squirming children got up and left), and I was clearly visible from the podium . . . and would have had a clear pistol shot from my seat.
It was a real John Wilkes Booth moment. It’s fortunate for Bob that I’m not John Wilkes Booth.
He's for sure not Abraham Lincoln.
So when Bob got up there and gazed out upon the congregation, one of the first things he saw was the Pediatrician he drove out of town because she was too good at what she did . . . too principled to just look the other way while bad things happened . . . too popular . . . and certainly too much of an economic threat for him to risk allowing her to stay in her hometown, transition her practice (as her public service agreement with the Feds said she should) and compete with his hospital-owned practice. No indeed. What she had built (with hard work and on the public’s dime) had to be destroyed and absorbed.
In Bob’s warped view of the world, I’m sure, it was all for the greater good.
That’s not how it’s turned out.
I think seeing me gave Bob a start. After all, I'm supposed to have "just gone away". I’m working somewhere else. I’m not supposed to be in town on a Sunday night. I'm supposed to be on the road . . . getting to wherever I have to go in order to pay my mortgage. Morrison seemed fidgety and nervous (that’s not just my observation . . . since the service, others who were there have said the same thing). He did not revel in his introduction (as is his custom), and started firing off his prayer concerns.
“Many in our community and across our nation lack a healthcare benefit plan or money to pay for preventative care, screenings and health services so they delay getting needed services until there is a crisis. We pray for a way to provide needed services for everyone.”
I sat forward, gripping the pew with both hands, seething. It was so “Bob”. His first prayer request out of the gate was about money. I wanted to stand up and scream. How dare this man stand up in a house of God and ask for support after the things he’s done! This is a man who his hand on a bible and swore a false Oath before God in order to avoid paying someone he had wronged fair restitution. Where, Almighty God, was the &^%$#* lightening? I wanted to throw this money-changer out of the temple. But it was not my temple. And I had promised Mama I would not say a word.
Bob began his second act: “Good health care requires doctors, other professionals and hospitals to work collaboratively”.
I suddenly knew what I had to do. I rose to my feet . . .with my eyes closed and my head bowed . . . hanging on to the pew in front of me for dear life . . . praying silently and fervently that this man would be exposed for what he is and what he has done to so many good people.
In my ears, Bob droned on. "We pray that our health care professionals, hospitals and others will cooperate in creative ways to deliver the best health care.”
I continued to silently pray. “Lord, let the horrible way this man has treated so many good health care professionals . . . for the sake of a fast/easy buck . . . be made known to the general community. Expose him. Let the community see beyond the hypocrisy. Make me your instrument. Let the community finally see.”
Bob continued: “Good health requires each of us to learn and carry out good health habits about exercise, diet, tobacco use, and other personal choices. We pray for wisdom and strength for each of us to live a healthy life.”
Feeling the eyes of many people upon me, I kept my eyes shut and my head bowed. A few tears seeped through. “He’s advertising more hospital services in the form of a prayer, Lord. Find the good in this prayer and answer it. And leave the rest where it belongs.”
More Bob: “We depend on our doctors, nurses, other professionals, and our hospital for health care. We pray for them to have that skill and energy to serve all in need. We also pray that they will be able to recruit others who are qualified to join in their work.”
A rush of feelings and memories flooded my head and threatened to cloud the prayer. As a young doctor a long time ago, I had skill and energy . . . and I was recruited home to serve. And I was thrown out like so much garbage when those skills and that energy stepped on the jealous toes of others more favored than I . . . when Bob and his "right-hand", Steve Eblin, did not have my back as they promised they would when I took the job.
I kept saying, over and over again, “Expose what he did to me, Lord, expose this man for what he’s done. Do not let him continue to be untouched and untroubled by his lies and deceit and thievery. Vengeance is Yours, Lord. I relinquish it to You.”
My eyes were clenched shut. Bob plowed on . . . trying to pretend he did not see the doctor he had greatly wronged standing to pray him off the podium. I thought I heard a tremor in his voice. Maybe not. “Good health requires that we teach, encourage and support others toward healthy lifestyles. We pray for wisdom and strength to teach and to serve as role models for others.”
My head was pounding. How many times, after being fired, after being sued, after being humiliated by headlines, all the while struggling to keep my house and pay the &^%$# lawyers, had I prayed for strength? “This man is no role model, Lord. Please expose him for what he is and what he has done.”
I was barely aware of what Bob was saying at this point: “Good health requires that we care for one another. We pray that we will be able to love, encourage and support all of our neighbors.”
“I stand here in Your House as an example, Lord, of the ‘encouragement and support’ this man and his friends/business associates have exercised for one of their “neighbors’. Let this community finally see the ugliness and stench right under their noses.”
Bob was pushing through to the end of his presentation: "Good health does not mean that we will live forever. We pray for wisdom and courage to face illness, injury and the end of life. We also pray that we will be able to show compassion, respect and love for the dying and their loved ones.”
I flashed back to a conversation I had had just the day before . . . with the family of a dying man . . . about Hospice services and palliative care in Asheboro. I remembered how Bob had tried for years to maneuver Hospice into the hospital's orbit of absolute control. After all, death and dying can be money-makers. Bob failed because he butted heads with another strong and determined woman who understood that the organization's real strength . . . and only hope for true integrity . . . came in its independence. You see, I was a hospice volunteer way in high school and college . . . back when Hospice was in its infancy . . . a grass-roots organization that pretty much operated out of Billie Vuncannon's kitchen. But Bob and other business leaders treated Billie (a saint on earth) like dirt for years. I know. I watched it. And was disgusted by it. I watched her counter every nasty move with both the skill of a chessmaster and supreme grace.
I hear Bob’s on the Hospice Board now. I laughed out loud when I first heard that. There’s an old saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.
I haven't talked to Billie in a while. She was the second person I called after I got fired (Mama was the first). I wondered how she is. I need to call her.
At the podium, Bob was finally done. And by the time I opened my eyes, he was quickly moving to his seat. Now in tears, I sat down. I could feel people staring at me. The Mother of one my childhood friends got up to go to the lobby. When she walked by where I was sitting, she stopped to hug me tight, “Mary, I pray that blessings will be rained down on you, child.”
I stayed seated just long enough to hear the joint presentation by the Salvation Army & Christian United Outreach Center (CUOC). The Salvation Army was one of Daddy’s favorite charities. And Mama is a CUOC volunteer.
But glancing at my watch, I noted it was after eight. I had to hit the road. And simply I had to get out of that church. I could not take any more of the hypocrisy and attempt at mass-manipulation.
In the church lobby, as I moved to the door, I heard someone call my name. I turned to see an old friend trying to hail me down.
Clearly meaning well, she told me that she was compelled by God to say one word to me, “Forgive.” In tears, I told her that I could not do it . . . that I had tried, but that what Bob Morrison/Steven Eblin had done affected every single day of my life to this day. I saw it as a "stench in the nostrils of God" that so many who had hurt me were now in that santuary asking for forgiveness without making any kind of ammends.
For my own part, forgiveness like vengence, is something I have given to God. I don't know what else to do. But in the meantime, I CAN focus on justice . . . on continuing to tell my story . . . on changing a medico-legal system that let me fall through so many holes. Some good has to come of this extra-special professional & personal hell I've been through.
As I stood there, being made to feel guilty (once again) for being angry about what happened to me, I really did not feel like giving my friend the dissertation on cheap grace.
My friend told me that she did not know the details of what happened. What she did not understand is that it's really not the thing to say to me. For this is the same refrain I have heard over and over again from so many people. She does not know because our local newspaper publishers (one of whom was probably sitting in that service) are in the hospital’s pocket, and because our District Attorney has buried the case. She does not know because the big guns in our local blogging “community” (that I turned to in desperation) have chosen to sneer and spit.
And she does not know because she/others who said they were my friend did not ask when the asking might have turned up the heat and done some good.
Here's the way that line of thought plays: Mary was an independent and opinionated girl, who could take care of herself . . . hire the lawyers . . . fight her own battles . . . absorb whatever nastiness Bob and his boys flung. Never mind that she had busted her hump for three years building a practice she could be proud of . . . and had done NOTHING but give of her every extra minute to help others when they asked (and sometimes when they didn't). Having covered everybody else's pregnancy leaves and taken care of other women's children, she was not burdened by a family or children of her own to support, so she could leave town and start over/do something else. She would be fine. Meanwhile, her "friends" could go on going along to get along with their own happy, un-interrupted lives.
My old friend told me that she loved me and she wanted me to be able to “move on”. She said she had heard about my Dad and was very sorry. She asked if she could pray with me, and I let her. I just didn’t have any strength left.
And when she was done, I left the church. The feeling in my heart was heavy and sad. But I embraced it as at least feeling something.
I hate what has happened to my hometown . . . particularly to medicine in my hometown. I hate the ugly undercurrents that flow just under the surface in Asheboro. I hate it that people who do not deserve to suffer are suffering.
I really do hate it that a church was used in that fashion. But I have to hope that God will turn the tide . . . that he will use what was good in that sanctuary for good. For I know that there were many good people in that church who were sincere in their prayers . . . who were praying for the right things for the right reasons . . . who are not blind . . . and who were not trying to use or manipulate anybody.
I went home, picked up the cats (the car was already loaded) and hit the road . . . driving the four-hour distance back to my assignment in silence. No radio. No CD. The cats snoozed and barely uttered a sound.
There is a passage from Exodus that I really get: "And Pharoah's heart was hardened". It was hardened by great grief and rage. Everything else aside, I get that about Pharoah. I really do.
Of course, when it was all said and done, God used Pharoah's rage too.
No roadside epiphanies happened. No angels appeared to tell me that my prayers would be answered . . . that I would ever home to the place and the people whose deliverance from things and influences I believe to be evil I will continue to pray for. I'm on this path for a reason. I will continue to pray for the strength to walk it.
I got in just after midnight, unloaded the car and went to bed. It's comfortable enough. But it's not mine.
Bob Morrison, of course, slept in his own bed.
Author's Addendum/Note: This one needs to stand for a while. I am taking a short break from blogging. I have another project that needs my attention.
1/30/08 Addendum (AM): I thank those who (for the obvious reasons) do not feel comfortable commenting, but who have e-mailed their support.
1/30/08 Addendum (PM): Again, I thank everyone who has contacted me today for your prayers and support.
Re: My blogging break, "Just when I thought I was out... they pull me back in." On a related note . . . with regards to yet another NC politician who ignored the pleas for help made by an "ordinary" Pediatrician in public service - when he could have done something to help her (all the while advocating expanding the kind of federal programs she got burned in) . . . former NC Senator/trial lawyer, John Edwards, finally dropped out of the Presidential race today. I am quite certain the "son-of-a-mill-worker" from North Carolina (except when he's from South Carolina) will be just fine. After all, public service has been much kinder to Mr. Edwards than it ever was to me. And if you thought you heard the "Hallelujah Chorus" wafting up from the general direction of New Orleans around mid-morning today, it was the sound of doctors in their offices all over the country bursting into song.
Okay, now I can really bow out for a little while.
2/1/2008 Addendum: First, I'd like to let folks know that a link to this post was copied to Dr. Kevin Pho of "Kevin MD" (the corporately-sponsored medical blog aggregator) - to be considered as a submission for his "MedBlog Power 8". Once again, Kevin gave me the shaft.
Apparently, it's not "powerful" enough. The "things I think" about Kevin's brand of blogging are not printable.
Second, there have been many comments in my Inbox on this one. But one was the best and I include excerpts here (edited for syntax):
"I read your blog post. It is true and written well. I am here, but I cannot remove the hurt you felt/feel.
It is mill-town Asheboro. Three to Four generations now, The "boss/owner" could do anything he wanted and get away with it.
He (Bob Morrison) was the man with power and position. Through the years, when business leaders take over they operate the same way . . . that is the way you 'handle' things and people in Asheboro. So far, we have failed to break the cycle.
Asheboro is too big for this, now, but it is still here because we desparately need changes in leadership (but you can't do that with non-functioning boards), as well as a true forum for the voice of the people to ring loud and clear.
. . . scripture that says if someone is doing wrong you talk privately . . . then you send two people . . . and then you bring the action before the whole church . . . but Asheboro never does that.
We seem to study forgiveness alone, but not the way to deal with the person(s) who is/are wrong. My take on (how) city prayer meetings (should be conducted) is this: Ministers lead, inviting all people, business and Lay. However, do business leaders should not be asked to speak/lead in any way. Talk about concerns from the people and pray about them and seek ways to address them. Talk and pray often. Voice to the businesses what you want & need, and spread the word. Otherwise it becomes their agenda everytime . . . to make you think you are giving valuable input . . . only to turn around and do what they want to do . . . not what the community needs or wants. Generally, they (businessmen/politicians) have only come to the people when they have done something stupid or sense that they are loosing their grip.
No matter who set up the meeting, the BIG mistake was giving business leaders the floor. People in everyone of these churches know what they are concerned about in this community. They really do not need Business people to tell them."
Amen
Tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of my termination from Randolph Medical Associates in God-fearing, "we've got those small-town-values" Asheboro . . . a home-grown Pediatrician fired for standing up to the threats of two bullies-in-suits and saving a child's life.
It is also the third anniversay of my Father's death. He never saw justice for his daughter.
Whatever that means . . .
. . . because damned if I know.
2/3/08 Update: I had orginally wanted this post to stand for a while, but I need to get something off my chest. An article in the Courier Tribune today (authored by Chip Womick and mentioning local dentist, Cheryl Freeman) demonstrated all of the journalistic biases and back-stabbing so-not-Christian behavior that has become Asheboro's stock and trade.
Chip reports that the City Council is in a tizzy. A new medical complex (independently-owned, and directly competing with Randolph Hospital) is designed in a fashion that appears to "turn its back on" or "snub" the city. Never mind what might have been practical to do on the site (given traffic flow at that intersection & light).
Now, I have it on good authority (from a great many people) that this building is driving Bob Morrison & company absolutely nuts. It's a gorgeous, modern buidling (if one wants to talk about "innovation" and "change"). It houses several independent medical practices. It's got an MRI (which requred a certificate of need - a whole nuther story).
So if one is Bob Morrison/Steve Eblin (and the rest of the corporate-planner ilk at Randolph Hospital), what is one to do? Why one stirs up a stink at City Council (in Bob's pocket) . . . and gets the local paper to run a hatchet piece on the building! It's easy when the publisher is your best bud . . . and even stars in your ads.
But "the boys" are conveniently forgetting something. In classic Asheboro fashion, this building was APPROVED in the beginning because it (1) could be taxed, and (2) would harbor new businesses . . . meaning lots of lovely money would be spent in the community. It was approved because the City was greedy. It's just plain two-faced, mealy-mouthed BS to stab the owners/builders/tenants in the back now with nasty headlines, bad publicity and new ordinances. They're not playing fair.
Of course, they never have. And somebody really needs to turn their back on . . . to "snub" that kind of behavior. They obviously did not get much out of the church service last Sunday.
Speaking of stinking up God's nostrils, there's the stench of hypocrisy about this little exercise in economic oneupmanship too. For years, our oh-far-sighted City Fathers did not give a rat's tail about "history" (including Bob, when he tore down that little historic "roach motel" to put up his cancer center). Everything was in the name of progress. Now many of our historical buildings/homes are gone or in disrepair.
The "reporter" (I use the term lightly) who carried the water on this one did not bother to ask the building's owner and/or designers for their point of view ("equal time" being a notion foreign to what passes as the press here . . . for despite the naive musings of award-winning hospital CEO's like Paul Levy, not all of us are gifted with an impartial press). And good-ole Chip even got a free plug in for Cheryl Freeman's new building (yes people, she is THE dentist with the poison pen in the "Why I Blog" link cited at the beginning of this update).
Aint' life in a small town grand?
By their fruits . . .
7 comments:
Your blogfather will miss you but you know my heart and you know my wish that I have for you as you take your leave of this blog for a while.
Take care, young lady!
Dr. Mary, there WILL come a day of reckoning ... I promise! Don't lose heart. We are praying for you and your plight.
I still say, Go Girl, or better yet, Go Woman, for that is what you have become through all of these trials and tribulations. Papa Tom is watching out for you. luv you cuz
Mary, I am very proud to know you , and even more proud to call you a long time friend. I know you are a person of great integrity, and I will stand by you always. You should have called me, I would have gone with you and stood by you proudly through the whole ordeal. I mean every word. You are one awesome lady and you deserve so much better than you have been dealt. As one of your other friends said, it will all come out in the wash. It might not be fast enough to us, but He is an on time God, keep that with you. Love you tons! Kim W.
Sounds like the money changers have taken over the temple yet again.
Keep on calling it like you see it. You might not get everything you're due but you will always be a painful thorn they cannot remove and their sores will fester and become inflamed beyond Medicine's ability to produce a cure.
“move on”
We hear that said in many places, for many reasons around our area, don't we?
Billy, you don't know the half of it. I've gotten some background on how this little event came to be . . . but I am not really at liberty to share.
I was dumbfounded.
And yes, Bubba, "move on" and/or, "we wish you well (but that's all we're gonna do)", is a big recurring theme around here. How many times has Edward Cone or John Robinson thrown Jerry Bledsoe in my face ala, "He's a local journalist and he doesn't care about your story - why should we?"
Turns out, Jerry's been kinda busy fending off death threats because he took on another story right under their politically-correct, fence-sitting, sucking-up-to-the-machine, do-nothing noses.
These jerks make me sick. Playing by the "rules" hasn't worked. Being nice hasn't work. Pleading and begging hasn't worked. Might as well call a jerk a jerk.
Again, I want thank all of the kind people . . . the friends - and just concerned citizens . . . who have contacted me about and/or commented on this post.
All I ask of anyone who reads it is that you spread the word and forward the link.
It's for &^%$#@ sure the likes of Cone and Robinson (not to mention Pho) won't do it. They don't have the journalistic or "veil-pulling" stones. There is no substance behind the rhetoric.
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