From CBS.COM – CREDIT: Diaz Digital Media
From CBS.COM – CREDIT: Diaz Digital Media
I just read the CBS News story “Litany of horrors allegedly inflicted on boy found nearly dying of starvation“. As a listened to the reporter, Mary Robb Jackson interviewing neighbors and telling the story, I just couldn’t stop crying. There were times that I was a single mother with three children, then again with six children. There was never a time when a single one of my children were left to starve. I would go without if I had to for the sake of my children. Fortunately, that’s not really something I had to deal with. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to make sure that ALL of my children were fed and their needs tended to. I almost feel as though poor Antonio’s mother, Mary Rader, blindly picked one of her children’s names out of a hat and that poor child was going to endure the most horrific conditions of their life most likely because the mother felt she couldn’t afford to take care of all of them with the limited resources she had. Poor Antonio knew no better than to catch insects and eat them because he had nothing else to eat. He couldn’t play as other children did because he had no energy. I can’t even imagine how he carried the weight of his riddled body from place to place, with infected feet and an extreme lack of strength. I don’t know how he wasn’t asphyxiated by the smell of his own defecation and decay, no clean air to breathe. Only by the grace of god there was even 25 lbs left of him to be rescued.
In my lifetime, I have served as a jury member 3 of the 4 times I was called to duty. Each time the case was related to drunk driving. Despite my feelings on the subject, I was able to serve as madam foreman objectively each time. If I were called upon to serve on this case, there is absolutely no way that I would have any objectivity. As a mother of six there is no one that would be permitted to inflict any harm towards my own children without paying a price. Mary Rader must be punished to the fullest extent of the law as should Antonio’s maternal grandmother Deanna Beighley and her husband Dennis Beighley for being fully aware of what was occurring and doing absolutely nothing to help young Antonio. How can you tend to the needs of three other children, who seemingly in good health, and basically attempt to obliterate young Antonio’s life. What could such a young child have done that was so wrong causing his mother to commit such a heinous and unforgiving act? In cases such as this, while everyone has the right to due process, this particular case should be exempt.
Mary Rader, Deanna Beighley and Dennis Beighley’s trials should be pushed aside and they should be sentenced to endure the same conditions that poor Antonio did for at least the same period, if not longer.
I hope that Antonio and his siblings can be placed somewhere that no one will have heard about their story, they can change their names and erase the past they had no power to control. They deserve a fresh start with people who will put them first and make all the normal parental sacrifices you would expect a parent to make.
Every time I see a boarded up window with children’s toys in the yard or on the porch, I will wonder if there is a child victim being neglected by an insanely, unconscionable, sorry excuse of a parent.
I implore our justice system to truly seek justice for Antonio and his siblings.
Felina Silver Robinson
The calm of the Summer night
a thickness to the air
with a hint of a struggling breeze
the airy blue night sky with twinkling stars so bright
it gives me pause to wonder
if the twinkles are the hearts of all the souls lost
or the hopes of all the dreamers
I sit and spill out my own hopes and dreams
to a sky that may have no answers
to a sky that has no voice
but its warmth and friendliness makes
you think of it as an old friend
One that you have as your confidant
No worries that it will tell your secrets
or judge you when it doesn’t like what it hears
With every twinkle comes
the feel of acceptance and a sign of hope for things to come
I look forward to my old friend
The calm of the summer night
Copyright 2014 The calm of the summer night© Felina Silver Robinson
18. How to identify fake antique Native American art
Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare
SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.
SCENE II.—The Island; before the Cell of
Pro. Oh, was she so? I must,
Once in a month, recount what thou has been.
Which thou forget’st. This damn’d witch,
For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,
Thou know’st, was banished; for one thing she
They would not take her life: Is not this true?
Ari. Ay, sir.
Pro. This blear-eyed hag was hither brought
with child, [slave,
And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my
As thou report’st thyself, wast then her servant:
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr’d commands,
Refusing her grand ‘hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage.
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison’d, thou didst painfully remain
Thour art inclin’d to sleep; ’tis a good dulness,
And give it way;—I know thou canst not choose.
Come away, servant, come: I am ready now;
Approach, my Ariel; come.
Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I
To answer thy best pleasure; be’t to fly,
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curl’d clouds; to thy strong bidding, task
Ariel, and all his quality.
Pro. Hast thou, spirit,
Perform’d to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.
I boarded the king’s ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flamed amazement: Sometimes, I’d divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame dis
Then meet and join: Jove’s lightnings, the
O’the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem’d to besiege, and make his bold waves
Yea, his dread trident shake. [trember,
Pro. My brave spirit I
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?
Ari. Not a soul,
But felt a fever of the mad, and play’d
Some tricks of desperation: All, but mariners,
Plung’d in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all afire with me: the king’s son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair),
Was the first man that leap’d; cried, Hell is
And all the devils are here! [empty,
Pro. Why, that’s my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
Ari. Close by, my master.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ari. Not a hair perish’d;
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou bad’st me,
In troops I have dispersed them ’bout the isle;
The king’s son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.
Pro. Of the king’s ship,
The mariners, says, how thou hast disposed,
And all the rest o’ the fleet?
Ari. Safely in harbour
Is the king’s ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call’dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex’d Bermoothes, there she’s hid
The mariners all under hatches stow’d;
Whom, with a charm join’d to their suffer’d
I have left asleep: and for the rest o’ the fleet
A dozen years; within which space she died,
And left thee there: where thou didst vent thy
As fast as mill-wheels strike: Then was this
(Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp, hag-born,) not honour’d with
A human shape.
Ari. Yes: Caliban her son.
Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know’st
What torment I did find thee in: thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Of every-angry bears; it was a torment
To lay upon the damn’d, which Sycorax
Could not again undo; it was mine art,
When I arriv’d and heard thee that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.
Ari. I thank thee, master.
Pro. If thou more murmur’st I will rend an
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till (oak,
Thou hast howl’d away twelve winters.
Ari. Pardon, master:
I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spriting gently.
Pro. Do so; and after two days
I will discharge thee.
Ari. That’s my noble master!
What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?
Pro. Go, make thyself like to a nymph o’ the
Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible
To every eye-ball else. Go, take this shape
And hither come in’t: hence, with diligence.
(On 7/23/14 - We will continue with “The Tempest“)
The U.S. Census Department surveyed Massachusetts residents to see how many have graduate degrees — a Masters or higher — from colleges.
|False Friends on Shakespeare Piece of the Day…|
|fashionforlunch on Golden boys! David Beckham, 2…|
|Felina on Paul McCartney, Warren Buffett…|
|doriandean on Paul McCartney, Warren Buffett…|
|Counselors and Confi… on Ahithophel is Today’s Re…|