There is a wonderful song that Ethel Waters made famous. I used to sing it with my husband, Cliff Carter, and it was hard to get through it without tears.
Why should I feel discouraged?
Why should the shadows come?
Why should my heart feel weary,
And long for heaven and home ?
His Eye is on the Sparrow,
And I know, He watches me ...
As I read the many posts by grieving crime victims on Facebook, I see your anger, your pain, your frustration.
Western law is the law. It serves the purposes of lawyers. But there is little justice to be found. Crime victims are treated as pests, inconveniences, mere gnats distracting from the goals of those who hold power and reign - yes, rain - over our lives ... politicians, police, lawyers, judges. There is no one to help us if we are not rich. I see your despair and I know it in my own gut. And that is when I sing the song.
When Cliff was playing at The Abacus on the West Island in Montreal, I used to come to the club in the evening and join him at the baby grand and sing love songs with him.
Late one evening, I arrived to find two gentleman sitting at the piano. Cliff introduced them to me. One was a judge. The other a government tax lawyer. And they were waiting for me. Why?
Cliff always chatted with the customers. He was a very pleasant and interesting man. He had told them he was married to me. They decided to stay and wait for me.
These two gentlemen wanted to know what had happened to me. They told me that through the years, they had read my Letters to the Editors of The Gazette and The Montreal Star and then, my letters stopped. They wondered what had happened to me and why I had stopped writing.
Hundreds of my Letters to the Editors had been published over decades. And, yes, I had stopped writing letters to the newspapers in the 1970's.
I told these gentlemen that I had come to believe it was futile. Through the years, the same injustices continued and I kept writing and nothing changed.
Once I was living with Cliff, I turned away from the fray and gave my heart to love and music. It was pointless to write any more Letters to the Editors. No one was paying any attention.
It was then that these gentlemen opened my eyes. One of them asked me, " Do you know who reads your letters?"
I said that I assumed a lot of people did, but it didn't have any effect.
Then he told me, "Your letters are read by lawyers, judges, politicians, people in positions of power in Montreal, in Quebec and beyond. People in Miami were reading your letters. You have to start writing again.
And so I did. But then the Internet entered my life and I discovered the precious gift of THE BLOG. It was the answer to my wildest dreams - I can write day and night and not worry about correcting text or the opinions and powers of editors. The world can read what I have to say in an instant. At this writing, more than 45,000 people have read my blogs.
So I say to you, my fellow victims, even if no one answers, Keep writing ! Keep telling your story ! Keep reporting the facts ! Don't give up. You never know who may read what you have to say. Just tell the truth again and again and again ...
Write without ceasing.
Phyllis Mass Carter
PHYLLIS CARTER'S JOURNAL
Building Camelot One Essay At A Time
MR. NOSTALGIA, CLIFF CARTER
DAWN MCSWEENEY AND HER PARTNERS IN CRIME
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