The Impeachment Hearing Room

I have spent my adult life dedicated to the welfare of this nation .

I have spent my adult life dedicated to the welfare of this nation, in pursuit of what this nation can yet become, be it in the classrooms of my career where I have endeavored to develop inquiring minds that would pursue a reasoned faith in our institutions and a strength of personal character and commitment to advocate the correction of those institutions when they should become subjected to abuse or subversion.

I have forgotten the moment that I embraced The Declaration of Independence as “the First Law” and “The Highest Law” of this land with a passion some have likened to religious fervor. I can, however, clearly recall the summer, surrounded with every written and published word penned by Albert Camus, a seminal time when I accepted the Existential nature of my existence and condition, that time when I consciously accepted both a responsibility to my fellow beings and a responsibility for my own actions, my own decisions.

I am ever mindful of my American heritage as well as the blood line heritages that course through my veins and for which I have a genuine respect and identification with.

My Irish fore bearers were, to a man and woman ,members of that long linage of the Irish whose lives knew much violence, the violence of resistance in the name of freedom, liberty and the right of self-determination. These things I have long ago taken to heart.

The German in me detests the horrible aberration visited upon the world in the name of that blood line. It is thus that I can neither accept or tolerate circumstances of governance that demeans proud heritages and enslaves by force or fear the innocent of those nations who want nothing more than to live in peace.

If have witnessed the ravages of war and lived with that which it did to my German father who took up arms against his native land under our flag as a sniper, never again to be the man of my earliest youth. . I have witnessed the price of oppression opposed on the hillside and In the Parking lot of Kent State University. The memory is vivid.

My inclinations are those of my Irish Grandfather, my hands and eyes, my fathers. The framework of my American existence in well grounded in Sam Adams, Patrick Henry and Thomas Jefferson, and as such, though some would disagree vehemently with me, I accept as fact that in this time and place, at this moment in history that we as a people may well be destined to reclaim our nation as our forefathers claimed it from England and as my Irish forefathers sought to do likewise in their lifetimes.

Let Us Turn To The Most Eloquent Expression of What The Streets Of Denver Are All About.

To The memory Of My Father: The Sniper’s Song

The night was icy cold I stood along
I was waiting for an army foot patrol
And when at last they came into my sight
I squeezed the trigger of my armalite

CHORUS
Oh mama, oh mama comfort me
For I know these awful things have got to be
But when the war for freedom has been won
I promise you I'll put away my gun.

A shot rang out, I heard a soldier cry
"Oh please don't leave me here alone to die"
I realized his patrol had run away
And left their wounded comrade for me to slay.

CHORUS
"There's nothing in this world I would not do
If there's mercy in your heart you'll let me live"
And in his eyes I saw a look of pain
As the mussel of my gun moved towards his brain.

CHORUS
The dawn was breaking as I reached my base
I will not forget the look on that boy's face
Fear, agony, and torment where all there
Oh but to your memory, mother, his life I spared.

And In The End; That Which Can Never Again Be Permitted On The Face Of This Earth

The End Of Post As We March Into Tomorrow.