Justice is something Americans take for granted.
Like last week’s newspaper, we don’t think about it at all unless we need it for some reason.
But when we suffer an injustice, we suddenly crave justice, we search it out, and we complain if we can’t get it. And we keep complaining. Sometimes for years. For as long as it takes.
Last year, I got to be useful in a small way that mattered to me personally; I was part of a team that accomplished a little moment of historic justice. My part was a small thing. I just wrote a story that needed to be told.
It was printed in a little weekly paper that people tend to take for granted by an editor who, like all editors, happens to be underpaid.
The real hero was the man who was chosen, along with the only other three African Americans involved, to fill the draft quota for Henderson County out of a pool of 22 young men during the Vietnam era. Only four men were needed to fill the quota. The only four men chosen were the four black guys out of the twenty-two possible men. All the white guys went home to their mamas that day.
Coincidence that those four names were randomly drawn? Dumb luck? Not likely.
You almost had to live through the civil rights era to get how pernicious racism can be.
If you missed the story, my friend lived through the war and developed an attitude that reminds me of Joseph, “What you intended for evil, God intended for good.” He is a true American hero.
Justice is something we take for granted.
We read our newspaper and we don’t even think about how the stories affect our culture. How they make us all aware of injustices and provide an opportunity for communities to come together and address problems, to right wrongs.
Our forefathers made the FIRST amendment Freedom of Speech simply because a free culture depends on truth. Our local press – unencumbered by government jurisdiction - gives us an avenue to express our love of a vibrant community conversation.
Sometimes, justice is accomplished like a sigh of relief – without courts or law enforcement – simply because someone finally spoke up and said what we all knew to be true.
Our local newspaper is a place to declare what we believe to be true and self-evident.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.