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The True Citizen, Wednesday, November 11,2020 — Page 5A
Michael N. Searles
WHAT'S FAIR IS FAIR
We Americans believe in
fairness. It’s not a law or re
quirement but we believe that
taking advantage of a neighbor
is not a good thing. The bibli
cal parable of the Unforgiving
Servant where he receives for
giveness but refuses to forgive
his fellow servant represents
a significant abuse. The Lord
condemns the first servant’s ac
tion and suggests heavenly ret
ribution. The reader or hearer
of the parable is struck by the
unfairness of the first servant.
While he was not required to
forgive the other servant, it is
right for him to do so. When
we have a bill that is due on a
given day and we pay the bill
over the phone, a voice will
often say your payment has
been recorded. This allows
the payer to make a payment
without fear of penalty. The
credit card company may not
be required to accept this tele
phone remittance as meeting
the contractual obligation, but
we are relieved it does.
During election time, we
are given the days we can cast
our ballots. In Georgia, the
deadline to return a completed
absentee ballot was Tues
day, November 3. If a voter
mailed his or her ballot with a
postmark of October 28 and it
arrived on November 4, many
would say that ballot should be
counted. It could be argued that
the law says, “the ballot must
be received by November 3
and if it comes in a day later it
should not be counted.” The
voter might argue that he or
she did everything to get the
ballot in by the third but the
Post Office was slow in its de
livery. What would be the fair
decision? Leeway is given to
active duty military. Research
ers cited a 2001 report by The
New York Times stating there
was fairly substantial evidence
the military and overseas U.S.
citizen ballots were essential
to George W. Bush’s 2000 vic
tory in Florida, and key to his
winning the election. Florida’s
military and overseas ballots
postmarked by Nov. 3 were
accepted up to Nov. 13. South
Carolina accepts military bal
lots up to two days after the
election while Washington
State allows 20 days. Many
would say this is fair since
overseas military ballots can
be delayed for a number of
reasons; it is only fair that their
votes be counted.
Recently in a 5 to 3 vote, the
U.S. Supreme Court ruled not
to extend Wisconsin’s deadline
for receiving absentee ballots
to six days after the election.
The extension was requested
to protect the right to vote
during a pandemic. The five
conservative judges gave no
reason for their decision in
the court’s brief. Justice Elena
Kagan argued that the Court
failed to adequately protect the
nation’s voters. Justice Kagan
continued her written dissent
by arguing that the state of
Wisconsin allowed a six-day
extension for the primary vot
ing in April which permitted
roughly 80,000 ballots to be
counted after election day, but
refused to extend the time in
the general election. There
undoubtedly were arguments
on both sides, but if the matter
was reduced to fairness, it is
hard to contend that citizens
who followed the rules should
have their ballots discarded.
The decision on the part of the
state of Wisconsin to make it
more difficult for citizens to
cast their ballot seems to reflect
the times in which we live.
Without openly recognizing it,
democracy always has had its
detractors.
Acknowledged Republican
principles such as the right
to vote; fiscal conservatism;
equal rights, equal justice; and
equal opportunity for all ap
parently were just convenient
empty gestures. Winning by
presenting a more persuasive
argument seems to have been
replaced with Winning. Using
unprincipled tactics may be the
secret to winning an election,
but it undermines the founda
tion of a democracy. Maybe
fairness is just an old-fashioned
concept but hopefully it is not.
Diana Royal
GREAT MOMENTS
I’ve read this story before,
but came across it again when
my friend Allie shared it. Ev
erything else I’ve been writing
for my column this week seems
insignificant now. Everyone
needs to take a minute to read
this and remember what true
kindness and compassion are.
I wish I knew who wrote this
story.
I arrived at the address and
honked the horn. After waiting
a few minutes I honked again.
Since this was going to be my
last ride of my shift I thought
about just driving away, but
instead I put the car in park
and walked up to the door
and knocked.. 'Just a minute',
answered a frail, elderly voice.
I could hear something being
dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door
opened. A small woman in her
90's stood before me. She was
wearing a print dress and a
pillbox hat with a veil pinned
on it, like somebody out of a
1940's movie.
By her side was a small
nylon suitcase. The apartment
looked as if no one had lived
in it for years. All the furniture
was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the
walls, no knickknacks or uten
sils on the counters. In the cor
ner was a cardboard box filled
with photos and glassware.
“Would you carry my bag
out to the car?” she said. I took
the suitcase to the cab, then
returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we
walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my
kindness. “It's nothing,” I told
her. “I just try to treat my pas
sengers the way I would want
my mother to be treated.”
“Oh, you're such a good
boy,” she said. When we got
in the cab, she gave me an ad
dress and then asked, “Could
you drive through downtown?”
“It’s not the shortest way,” I
answered quickly.
“Oh, I don't mind,” she said.
“I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way
to a hospice.”
I looked in the rearview mir
ror. Her eyes were glistening.
“I don't have any family left,”
she continued in a soft voice.
“The doctor says I don't have
very long.” I quietly reached
over and shut off the meter.
“What route would you like
me to take?” I asked.
For the next two hours, we
drove through the city. She
showed me the building where
she had once worked as an
elevator operator.
We drove through the neigh
borhood where she and her
husband had lived when they
were newlyweds. She had me
pull up in front of a furniture
warehouse that had once been
a ballroom where she had gone
dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to
slow in front of a particular
building or corner and would
sit staring into the darkness,
saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was
creasing the horizon, she sud
denly said, “I'm tired. Let's go
now.”
We drove in silence to the
address she had given me.
It was a low building, like a
small convalescent home, with
a driveway that passed under
a portico. Two orderlies came
out to the cab as soon as we
pulled up. They were solicitous
and intent, watching her every
move. They must have been
expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took
the small suitcase to the door.
The woman was already seated
in a wheelchair.
“How much do I owe you?”
she asked, reaching into her
purse.
“Nothing,” I said.
“You have to make a living,”
she answered.
“There are other passen
gers,” I responded.
Almost without thinking, I
bent and gave her a hug. She
held onto me tightly. “You gave
an old woman a little moment
of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”
I squeezed her hand, and
then walked into the dim morn
ing light. Behind me, a door
shut. It was the sound of the
closing of a life.
I didn't pick up any more pas
sengers that shift. I drove aim
lessly lost in thought. For the
rest of that day, I could hardly
talk. What if that woman had
gotten an angry driver or one
who was impatient to end his
shift? What if I had refused
to take the run or had honked
once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't
think that I have done anything
more important in my life.
We're conditioned to think
that our lives revolve around
great moments. But great mo
ments often catch us unaware
— beautifully wrapped in
what others may consider a
small one.
WITH A
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