Six Very Simmler People!

A lot will be said in reference to Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” Speech; on this the 45th anniversary. News commentators will be alluding to it, especially since the Democrats nominee for the 2008 election is showboating his acceptance speech on this historic day. (Talk about sacrilege!)

So, since I don’t expect anyone under the age of 25 has ever read the speech (assuming the public schools actually taught them to read), I am posting the whole text of the speech here:

I Have a Dream

by Martin Luther King, Jr.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the “unalienable Rights” of “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.”

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we’ve come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. 1963 is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest — quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends. And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of “interposition” and “nullification”–one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day–this will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country ’tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the Pilgrim’s pride,
From every mountainside,
Let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that. Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
Washington, DC, on August 28, 1963

Share the Dream!bysgtgizmo
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I am in a men’s bible study at my church, Cornerstone Baptist Church in Topsham, ME. The study is called YokeFellows II. Part of our first assignment is to write a letter of encouragement to the person who has been the most instrumental in your Christian walk. Well, I have been racking my brain and really stewed over this. As I look back over my life and think about those that God has put into my path, Uncle Frank keeps coming to mind. I know that the assignment implied that it was to someone living, but I still kept returning to thoughts about my great-uncle. So, since I never did tell him how much he meant to me, I am doing it now for the whole world to read.

Frank Pecketz was my great uncle on my mom’s side. He and his wife, Pearl, did not have any children of their own. For as long as I can remember, they were always there, a part of our lives. It began when they took an interest in his sister’s (my grandmother) kids. He and his wife were instrumental in leading my mom to Christ. After my parents got back together from being separated, Uncle Frank and my dad seemed inseparable. For me, Uncle Frank took on the role that most would be familiar associating with a grandfather. Since neither of my natural ones were Godly men while I was growing up, Uncle Frank filled the void.

Fishing, camping, and working on “the trailer” in Jersey were fond memories I have of him growing up. Most importantly, he modeled what a real man of God looks like. Though he was not educated I believe, beyond the 8th grade, he was one of the wisest men I knew. He loved the Lord and studied the Word with diligence. I regret that as a twenty-something, I never really appreciated the support that he showed to Diane and I.

He was a person that gave until the end. As far as I know, he left with nothing that the world would remember someone by. He had no children, lands, public legacies or great deeds associated to his name. But the man that I knew as “Uncle Frank”, will always live on in my memory. He modeled humility, grace and perseverance to me. When I go to heaven, he will be one of the first souls that I seek out. I hope everyone is blessed with a spiritually rich uncle, like I was with my Uncle Frank!

Fran Simmler - March 2008

I knew it was just a matter of time before “Kristen” would be revealed; her name: Ashley Alexandra Dupré. Funny, the more society changes, it is still the same. I am reminded of a passage in Proverbs (6:20-28):

Warning Against Adultery

20 My son, keep your father’s commands and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.
21 Bind them upon your heart forever;fasten them around your neck.
22 When you walk, they will guide you;when you sleep, they will watch over you;when you awake, they will speak to you.
23 For these commands are a lamp,this teaching is a light,and the corrections of discipline are the way to life,
24 keeping you from the immoral woman, from the smooth tongue of the wayward wife.
25 Do not lust in your heart after her beauty or let her captivate you with her eyes,
26 for the prostitute reduces you to a loaf of bread, and the adulteress preys upon your very life.
27 Can a man scoop fire into his lap without his clothes being burned?
28 Can a man walk on hot coals without his feet being scorched?

There are two major factors or forces at work in this story. First, you have the unbridled lust of a man. Which everyone believes is untameable and allows latitude if it remains in the realm of legality. Second, the abuse of power by a woman. That power they possess is the God-given beauty that initiates attraction by men.

Before this news event, I have actually given this a lot of thought. Well, for obvious reasons; I am a man and am vulnerable to being “captivated” because I have eyes, don’t I! I also have sons, and I have tried to guide them in proper response when it comes to, frankly, the vulgarity that is paraded in the world around this. Want to sell a product, put a scantily clad vixen in the vicinity. So, it is incumbent on me to practice and then teach self-control in this area, to my sons.  Given my own history and the experience of raising sons; it is important to instill as early as possible the discipline necessary to overcome the “primal” urges that are part of the male make-up.  I am not advocating a monk-like existence.  God gave us these very powerful forces to give us an opportunity to glorify Him.  This is accomplished by striving to be more Chist-like, by denying ourselves.  While at the same time, enjoying the gift of sexuality in God’s confines.

The other power or force at work is female beauty.  A woman who lacks virtue and uses her beauty to attain her desires is the type mentioned in the passage above.  In raising our daughter; my wife and I have discussed the importance of our daughter understanding this phenomenon, that she will possess as she matures.  It is like one of the themes from Spiderman; with great power come great responsibility.  To compound this whole line of thought; society is condoning women to be more aggressive in their pursuits and use any means necessary to get what you want.

So, to boil down the news about Gov. Spitzer (as old as time):

You have a “Type A” male who never conquered his natural male urges.  He becomes successful and with that, somewhat arrogant and delusional.  Marry that up with a young woman, who from all appearances has made a lot of poor choices to date.  One who has dreams and aspirations, and will use any means necessary to attain them.  When her fame is obtained, she will practically quote Proverbs 30:20b - ‘She eats and wipes her mouth and says, ‘I’ve done nothing wrong.’  Both persons lack core values and are each living by what pleases them or what”feels” right.  The combination causes heartache, sensationalism and a lot of garbage on the societal landscape.  No sooner will the story fade from collective memory, another will emerge when the aforementioned forces align themselves yet again.

I had the pleasure to meet Dean Scontras, Republican running for the 1st Congressional District, here in Maine. Some trusted friends of mine have given Mr. Scontras high praise for his stand on issues that are of mutual interest in my sphere of peers. So, I was glad that Mr. Scontras made an appearance at the H.O.M.E. Convention in Rockport, ME; it gave me a brief chance to get acquainted with him.

I introduced myself. Dean had already met my wife in her capacity with Teen Pact; and we also discussed the other contacts we had in common. I further offered my assistance if he needed feedback to issues related to the military or technology. (Remember, I am sgtgizmo!) Mr. Scontras appreciated the offer. His immediate concern was looking for pizza, which someone at the convention told him was around. It was easy to show him where the pizza was, because it was my pizza. (Leftover from lunch.) I got him plated up and followed him back to the lobby.

Now, there is a flight of steps leading up from where we were to the lobby. As we started, we got alongside a little girl struggling to carry a bottle of soda in one hand and a hot chocolate with no lid in the other; along with a stuffed animal pinned under one elbow. It was quite the accident waiting to happen. Dean offered to help the little girl with her task. The girl explained that she was trying to get the hot chocolate to her mommy in the lobby. Mr. Scontras took the cup and we both followed her. They chit-chatted and both agreed that it was tricky carrying all of this up these stairs. I watched, and started to wonder how Dean was going to “deliver” the hot chocolate to the mom. I guess the cynic in me was curious to see if Mr. Scontras was going to make political hay with this.

We got to the lobby, and the little girl’s mom was seated there and she just smiled. Here was her little girl with two escorts, one of which was carrying her hot beverage. Mr. Scontras handed the drink over and explained that he was just helping while the woman thanked him for the help. Then, when the opportunity was ripe to make a little campaign pitch, ( in case this mom was a voter in the 1st District); Mr. Scontras just said, “Your welcome.” Then he turned around and just walked away. Did not ask for her support, did not even introduce himself!

Now, I find that refreshing. Who ever heard of a politician doing something when there is nothing expected in return? I hope he takes that attitude to Washington.

Fran

I was with my family waiting for a table at a restaurant and Barack Obama and his family came in behind us. He asked if he and his family could “sit” with us, and if we minded if one camera person from his campaign recorded the event. I looked at my wife, Diane; she just shrugged and said “Whatever!”

So, they sat us down at a big table/booth combination like they have at Denny’s, but this was a Chile’s. I ended up facing Obama; our wives, Diane and Michelle were sitting next to each-other. My four kids and their two daughters were packed in around us all. We all exchanged perfunctory introductions.

It seemed a little awkward at first, but I knew this was some kind of campaign stunt/experiment for Barack. Inside I grinned because I suspected that he did not consider that his paradigm might be tested by eating with us.

Barack broke the ice after we ordered our beverages.

“So Fran and Diane, I have to ask you outright, do you plan on voting for me if I am the nominee from my party in November?” His wife reached across and slapped his hand.

“What a way to start!”

“This is why we are doing this.” He turned to me, “Do you mind if I ask you that so bluntly?”

“No,” I said. “In fact, I hope it doesn’t spoil YOUR evening. I wouldn’t vote for you.” Then looking over at Diane and Erik, “I don’t think they would vote for you either.” They both nodded their heads in agreement.

“Perfect!” Barack said. “I am sorry Erik, I should have figured you were old enough to vote. Well, what is it that would keep you all from voting for me?”

We all looked at each-other; I chuckled, as I think the rest of my family did, “Everything you stand for.”

“Whoa, that is a broad statement you guys. Surely there has to be something we can agree on?” He looked around to all of us. “Are these all of your kids, together?”

“Yes,” Diane said curtly. (This question irritates Diane because people assume that if you have more than two kids, you must be a “blended” family.)

Michelle picked up on this, “Diane, Barack did not mean anything by that!” Casting a
sideways glance at her husband. Drinks arrived and the waitress took our orders, forcing a pause.

“Diane, I did not mean to offend. I just figured I would ask about health-care. Surely with such a big family, I would assume that providing affordable health-care would be a concern for you folks?”

“Well, since Fran is in the Guard, we pay into Tricare and his employer credits him.”

“Fran, thank you for your service.”

“Thank you, it is my pleasure.”

Barack began again. “Don’t you think that every American should be entitled to the same benefit of health-care that you folks have?”

“They do,” I replied.

“No Fran they don’t, there are 47 million people without affordable insurance. What is wrong with helping them?”

“First of all Barack, you are mixing two facts that have to be examined separately. That 47 million figure is bogus. It doesn’t break down those between jobs and those that choose not to have insurance. Second, if you want or need something; you make sacrifices to get it.”

Barack sat back and looked at me. “Okay, I concede the first point, but it is not fair to make people choose between their health and putting food on the table!”

Diane blew a soft raspberry. My kids chuckled and the Obamas looked at her. “Please, they aren’t deciding between food and insurance. Their hard choice is whether to get a fifty inch tv or the latest Nintendo whatever for their kids.”

Michelle countered, “Diane, I have seen real poverty and there are those that need assistance with health costs.”

“Sure, but there usually is a reason that they are in poverty, like making bad choices.” Adam chimed in.

Barack looked at him, “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Adam that might be true, but I think we should help. Provide a safety net so that they can rebound.” Barack paused to let his point sink in.

“But who is going to pay for it?” Erik challenged. “Those of us that have jobs and pay taxes, which frankly I am getting more keenly aware of as I look at my pay stubs.”

Barack looked at his wife, then back to me. “Food will be coming soon and I really want to find some common ground. You guys alluded to the fact that Fran was in the Guard; Do you know that my goal is to bring our troops home as soon as possible, if elected?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be a huge mistake. I just came back from Kuwait. I wouldn’t want to go back, the separation was hard. (Michelle looked over at Diane, Diane
blinked and nodded in agreement) But frankly I hope that my contribution to the effort will negate the need for my sons from going in the future.”

“But Fran, the war was illegitimate!”

“Barack, if Bill Clinton sent us there, would it have been different?”

“But he didn’t, Bush fabricated evidence to get us in there!”

“George Bush did not say or present anything different than what was already known by the previous administration. Saddam was a bad man with bad intentions and was just waiting for the means to do something to us.” The whole time both Barack and Michelle were shaking their heads “No” as I was talking. “Now, do I think the war was prosecuted well? No, it was poorly done at first. I also think that Bush does an inadequate job at communicating to the public.”

As if looking for a chink, Barack turned to my wife. “Diane, do you want to see an endless war? With our military being so stretched, a draft might be inevitable…..” He motioned around the table, looking at each of my boys.

Diane shook her head. “Funny you say that.” She now started to fight back tears. “I did not want to do this dinner thing when you asked us! We are out for dinner because this is Erik’s last night with us before he goes to Basic.” (I think I heard the cameraman gasp quietly)

Realizing that this tack was getting nowhere fast, Barack sat back and seemed a little flummoxed. The food was delivered during this interlude. Picking up a french fry, he looked
at Diane and I and he then appeared confident he found a good thought to pursue. “Given you folks have a good sized family, I am sure education is important and how you are all going to pay for it.” Anna stifled a giggle at that statement.

“Anna, how old are you?” Michelle asked, like Anna was keeping a secret.

“I am eleven.”

“Well, you seem much older.” Barack commented. Anna giggled more at that.

“As a matter of fact, education is very important to us,” I answered.

Barack seemed a little energized now. “I knew I could find something!”

Trying to finish up a bite and still talk, Diane added, “We homeschool.” (I thought I was going to have to use the ‘Heimlich Maneuver’ on Michelle!)

“Okay, I respect that.” Barack slowly spoke as if trying to recover from a blow to the head. “Not everyone can make that kind of commitment for whatever reason and as I look at your kids; it seems that you two have done a wonderful job so far.”

“Thanks.” We simultaneously answered.

“Surely though, if you want to send your kids to college, the cost would be hard for you all to handle?” He pressed.

“Not everyone needs to go to college,” I said flatly. Diane nodded in agreement and the Obamas now were sharing an expression on their faces as if trying to figure out what kindof oddity they were looking at. “Our goal is to educate our kids, and by the time they graduate, have a skill or vocation that suits them. If they want to go to college, I will pay for the gas to take them to a recruiter.” (I think our inquisitors were going into shock now.) Micah, who was his usual quiet self, just grinned huge from hearing me say this often, usually in jest.

“I went to college and had to drop out so I would not go into debt more.” Diane added. “Fran is right, not everyone needs a degree. Erik here just decided to acquire one after he is finished with flight school. Micah here wants to be a contractor and might take some classes on business.
Adam wants to make movies, so I don’t know, he probably will go to college.

I joined in. “If Adam goes local, he can work and we will provide him room and board.” I could see an aide coming over to where we were and thought maybe this was the Obama’s cavalry.

Barack looked at each one of us with a kind of half-opened mouth, perplexed expression. Then he looked as if he solved a puzzle and jokingly
asked in an accusatory tone, “Are you all McCain supporters?”

As if on cue and sounding like a chorus, we all answered “No Way!”

“We probably will vote for him, but that is because it is the only choice that the Republicans are going to leave us with!” Erik commented with a touch of sarcasm.

“May I ask who your candidate was?” Barack asked.

“Mine was Thompson.” I sighed. “Diane at first was for Huckabee until she did some digging. Then she settled on Romney.” Now the aide was whispering in Baracks ear.

“This has been great!” Wiping his mouth with a napkin and folding it onto the table. “Unfortunately, you know, demands of campaigning, we have to go. Please, let us pick up the check?”

Diane looked at me. “That is kind, but this was supposed to be a dinner for Erik……”

“Please, it is the least we can do. As a way to say thanks for you and your son’s service.” (Beep…beep…..beep…..beep…..)

I said at the beginning, it was a weird dream!

Copyright 2008 - Fran Simmler