IntenseGuy

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Mile 1066 - Bypassing Courtland, VA

As of April 24, 2008 at 8:00 AM
Steps: 2,548,876
Miles: 1067.41

Courtland Virginia's only claim to fame, it seems, is it was the setting for the Nat Turner trial and execution. And who was Nat Turner?

Nat Turner, (October 2, 1800 – November 11, 1831) was an American slave whose slave rebellion in Southampton County, Virginia, was the most remarkable instance of black resistance to enslavement in the antebellum southern United States. Before Nat and his brigade of rebels met resistance at the hands of a white militia, 57 white men, women and children had been killed.

Nat eluded capture until October 30 when he was discovered hiding in a cave and then taken to court. On November 5, 1831, Nat was tried, convicted, and sentenced to death. He was hanged on November 11 in Jerusalem, Virginia, now known as Courtland, Virginia. His body was then flayed, beheaded and quartered.

They certainly didn't believe in years of appeals back then. "Cruel and Unusual" punishment didn't mean what it does today either - I guess they really wanted to make sure he was dead.

Slavery was an ugly thing -

Source

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Hieroglyphics

Writings From the Attic, Part Two

Yesterday was the funeral service for Iggy Harold O. Conehead. There was no viewing, and the empty coffin remained closed. Iggy is survived by his parents, Harold and Delores O. Conehead, as well as his sisters, Samantha and Heather, and his brother, Jayden.

Delores asked me to read something I had written a number of years ago during the service for Little Iggy. It was with great sadness that I did so.

Photo Source

It was a cloudy night but the ethereal moon shone full, the waves of the surf babbled quietly in the intermittent glow. A muted call or two, were the only sounds of a content sea gull, for God cast his outreaching hand to warm the soul burning low.

He reached for me as to ease the troubles mine, and gladly I spoke to him, our dialogue fine.

A calm starry night it was, that danced with glittering moonlight, the heavens remote seemed to be ever closer and reachable. My spirit barren was soon renewed, it ascended at the sight, I shed my shoes and waded the cresting wash, t'was like a fairy fable,

Dyed the waves were, white moonlight, pale blue earth shine. Sea salty foam and wind created energy divine.

The tides of time wash away the harsh lines of weariness and make one meek, much like the surf takes care of the sand castles and any other man made remnants. The storms of the seasons pass beyond reason, one's memory ebbs and peak, the moon also, fades to return full glow, in tune to an eternal chant.

It is a magic time, night surf-side, the soul to dine, It grows content as if imbibing a pleasant warming wine.

Amid the night I stand and watch, beside me a friend to my delight, One I treasure much and hope in God's outreaching hand, safe she keeps. The serene whale, soul untroubled, sings loves songs with all his might, and in the soothingly regular and gentle waves, the happy dolphin sleeps.

The cool breeze blows placidly, smelling full of brine. It is at such moments as this, I'm glad this life is mine.

I returned to my seat and watched the remaining service -

I was completely dumbfounded, when I saw Samantha lead the flag draped coffin from the room. She leviated it telekinetically while "Amazing Grace" was hummed, err, sang? piped? I guess piped would best describe the sound they made blowing air out the round opening at the top of their heads, by the rest of the family as they followed.