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Newspaper Scandal

Newspaper Scandal

Feature Photo by abolfazl shaker – Upsplash.com.

Newspaper Scandal

It’s seven, giving me an hour before hitting the trail to my factory. during this time of the day, I’m alone, quiet, my local newspaper lying on the twelve-seater table in the breakfast room. A crackling log fire burning, the smell of Canadian Pine from the furniture, and my favorite Columbian ground coffee percolating on the hot plate.

“Buenos días, señor Pierre.” “De coffee, she is ready, señor; I fix for you, no?” “Si Angelina, gracias.” Our Cook, housekeeper, and butler, all bound in one, is from Columbia, hence my coffee preference. Angelina’s family is in the coffee business back home, and she insists on me drinking their brand.

 “Angelina only make Ferrozo Coffee in dees house Meester Pierre or no coffee at all!” She stated. “Then you must make it like my Grandmother did, Angelina.” “How she make it?” “Many years ago, Granny used to buy her baking flour in a small muslin bag, and once emptied, she washed the bag, turned the open end, and sewed an elastic strip onto it. She would put the bag into an enamel coffee jug, fill it with water, and add Trekker Koffie from the crushed beans into the bag once it boiled. Then it was allowed to percolate for thirty minutes.

“What ees dis tre… coffee? She struggled with the name. In my Grandmother’s time, it was coffee drunk by the Dutch Farmers of the day.

A truly win-win situation arose from this discussion, and with no help from me, Angelina sourced some calico, found an enamel coffee jug, sewed up some bags, and percolated Ferrozo.

I didn’t tell Angelina that my Grandmother drank her Trekker Koffie with condensed milk. (during the Boer War in South Africa, fresh milk was not freely available) The outcome of this was that I became a condensed milk addict. Angelina thought I drank my coffee without milk (as her fellow Columbians did), but I had a secret stash of condensed milk that I used.

Coffee was poured, and the newspaper opened– my two favorite items. Now happiness is mine.

On opening the paper (I always look to see the date in case the wrong paper was delivered. It happens, you know;) lo and behold, it was tomorrow’s date! I checked my watch to confirm it was right; tomorrow’s date. I looked up to see if there was anyone with whom I could share this phenomenon. I didn’t think Angelina would appreciate my vexation, so continuing to read, I accepted it as a printing error.

I happily worked through the news items, and then it happened. It was at the bottom of page three; I could not believe my eyes.

Company Owner and CEO Detained By Police.

Mr. Pierre Williams, the owner, and CEO of Williams Cables Ltd, has been detained by the Police, pending investigations into certain irregularities concerning the company’s tax returns.

Neither the Public Officer, Ms. Fossie, nor Mr. Williams would comment. The Police Chief Public Relations Officer, Inspector Len Jones, explained that no comment could be made until Mr. Williams came before the local magistrate.

Case covered by Staff Reporter Janice Morrison.

Hey, this is me. I thought, dumbstruck.

Before I knew it, I coughed and sprayed my coffee over the breakfast table with shock. I was in the process of mopping up the mess on my shirt when a distressed Angelina came striding into the room. “Meester Pierre come kweek, there is men at the door, saying eet is Police.” I had barely stood up from the table when two men in overcoats pushed Angelina out of their path. And while one explained they were arresting me on charges of defrauding the Receiver of Inland Revenue, the other roughly pulled my hands behind me and locked them in cuffs. The first then proceeded to read me my rights.

Protesting, I asked if I could change my shirt.” Please come with us, Mr. Williams, and don’t offer any resistance.” feigning politeness, the officer said quietly.

Pushing a sheet of paper, along with a chewed-end pen, the policemen at a desk stated,” We need a statement from you.” “Officer, I need to speak to my attorney before I am willing to make any statement, please.” Anger melted a little of my fear; his eyes met mine. Standing suddenly, he beckoned me to follow him. “He wants to make a call.” The Sergeant, who was as broad as he was tall, passed me a mobile with my attorney’s number dialed.

Joseph Berelowitz was a no-nonsense attorney and a man with a razor-sharp mind. “Hello Bill, Joe here. “Give me an hour; I’ll be with you. We’ll apply for bail.”

I gripped the handle of the coffee mug with some difficulty, the shock of it all making my hands shake uncontrollably. “I need a pub, not a coffee,” trying to present a humorous front. I reassured Joe that I had no faintest idea of what was happening. “Get up to your office and sort this out as soon as possible.” Joe was anxious. “This is serious. Call me with whatever you find.” “Give me a couple of hours, I’m going home to change, and I’ll head for the office.”

Rushing in through the front door, I nearly knocked Angelina flying. “Sorry, Angelina.” “Is Meesta Pierre OK?” “Yes, I’m fine; I just need a whiskey.” Angelina walked away, staring at me wide-eyed over her shoulder.

The phone rang, “Williams,” I answered the call. A strange gruff voice on the other end stated, “Your wife is here with us, and if you want to see her again, you’ll get over here right away.” “What are you talking about?” I demanded. My wife’s voice screamed in the background, “Pierre, they want to kill me, help me please…” My wife was hysterical. The male voice came back on the line. “You’ve got one hour to get over here, Unit 16 G, Dock Terminal A. You now have 55 minutes. The phone clicked.

With my heart thumping, I drove like a madman, the clock racing ahead. I knew Terminal A and pulled up at 16G. The door opened, and I was pulled into the room by my collar. A figure shoved me into a filthy chair. My wife was tied to a chair with her mouth taped, face red and swollen. Her mouth was bleeding through the tape in one corner.

“Your partner Ms. Fossie has an unpaid bill we need to collect.” “She’s not my partner. She’s my employee,” I retorted. Wham! A back-hander from one of the three men smashed across my face, crashing me to the floor. The hitter lifted me by my lapels. He pushed his face into mine, rotting teeth stench swathing my nostrils; then, he punched me in the gut. I collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath.

They lifted me onto the chair once more, and one of the others muttered, “Enough, I want him to talk.” “We need the stash or the money. You got it?” Wheezing heavily and fearing another blow, I said cautiously, “I don’t have the stash; Ms. Fossie must have it, but how much does she owe you?” “Twenty G’s” “Twenty thousand! What?” “Listen, mister, don’t f***k with me; you heard what I said.” “OK, untie my wife, drive us to the cash machine, and I will see if I can draw that amount.” “Mister, your wife, stays here; we go for the cash. We get the cash, and you come to collect your wife. Let’s go!”

The leader walked close behind me. “One wrong move, you dead meat, and we go kill your wife, right?”

Suddenly from behind, a voice yelled, “Freeze, Police!” I slowly raised my hands, as did the big guy behind me. Sirens and lights were flashing from the squad cars; this added to the drama as people in the street stared in disbelief.

An officer led me to a waiting patrol car, and there was my wife. I leaped in alongside her; we hugged and wept. “Would you like a visit to the hospital or straight home?” The officer asked. “Straight home.” We chorused.

“Tell me, officer, how did you know where to find my wife?” “Well, Mister Williams, we had your phone wired, and the gang kindly gave us the address when you got your instructions. They are part of a drug ring and in cahoots with your Ms. Fossie. Who, incidentally, was responsible for tampering with your tax account. It seems she owed them a lot of money. Call me Paddy, by the way, he said in his fine Irish lilt.” “Do you know, Paddy, I read about the story in the newspaper this morning, a paper dated tomorrow.” “Surely not; that is strange now.” Officer Paddy smiled. Just as I thought, indeed, the work of a Leprechaun!

If you feel this article has value, please send this link to others. Writings are meant for people, not for dormant files in our computers. Often, when we share them, it results in positive changes in the lives of individuals and communities.

All rights reserved sirpeterjamesdotcom©2020-01-20

If you are spiritually inclined see my other site; www.adcrucemchristi.com

Please feel free to send in questions (see ‘Contact’) and comments (hit the ‘Comments’ Button.)

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Lockdown!

Lockdown

Our President placed this country under lockdown as at midnight on Thursday, March 26th. 2020. And this was my take on the issue at that time:

The Family Scene

My immediate family, of which I am the oldest, consists of two children and five grandchildren. specifically, the family live in five different homes within a twenty five kilometer radius of one another.

‘Lockdown’ for me is a first-timer, never having experienced it before.

Growing up in the latter part of the great war and living in post war times was tough. Further, my father and three uncles were part of the war machine. As a result one uncle was killed and thankfully my father and two uncles came home to us.

I watched two sons conscripted into the war machine in the ‘80’s. Both came home alive, one was wounded and recovered physically, but never psychologically.

Thankfully my grandchildren have grown, one in his teens, four into their twenties. Two have university degrees and three are on their way; all have good homes.

Onset of Covid 19

At the onset of Covid-19, my grandchildren, faced with far greater media hype than I ever experienced, were placed in a situation of doubt and concern. Notwithstanding their access to information on the internet and research skills. They acquired these in the course of their education.

We parents are faced with both the concerns for our children and the economy of our country. Our Country has a population of fifty seven million souls. Six million of this number live in our city. We are concerned for our own small businesses, the livelihood of which supports our family. But our biggest concern is for the potential physical effects of the virus upon our population. Being  a third world country, we could not cope with a pandemic, like say, Italy!

Our Country

In this country, we have the best government since 1994. Our President and Minister of Finance are very capable men (my opinion). So, from a security and economic perspective we have a small chance.

The greater percentage of our people are not familiar with preventative measures that need to be applied. In addition our country has very limited medical resources to cope with the size of our population. “Solum habemus fide in Deum – In God alone we trust.”

Our government, businesses and many responsible people, seemed to have galvanized themselves into action.

How Can We Help?

My Grandchildren asked me what more could be done to help. I replied, following good hygienic preventative measures and obeying what our government has instructed.

What I told them was: we need to look in another direction. Into that lesser understood place within ourselves. That place from which we receive priceless advice, honest advice, advice we are able to rely on.

What is our First Reaction Normally?

When some traumatic event affecting our family, our community, country, the globe, our first turn is to fear. Fear of dying, losing a family member, relative, friend. Afraid of lack, of material loss, of unemployment, the list is endless. At this point we seek advice from wherever we can source it, reliable or otherwise. After which, we worry, even to the point of illness.

What Should We Do?

With any catastrophe there are certainly two issues that will arise in it’s wake, we:

  • can do nothing to change the course of the catastrophe.
  • are powerless to do anything about the (possibly major) changes that will take place in our lives.

It is imperative we accept the fact that the only place where we can make decisions affecting our future  is now. In this moment. The past is too late and the ‘future’, in reality, does not exist.

If we refuse to act in this moment now, after a night’s sleep, we will be in what we called ‘tomorrow and has become ‘now.’

My Fortunate Escape.

Where I was raised, there was a common saying, “Next year will be better.” I left that country eventually, not by choice. The decision I had to make was almost immediate and I realize now that it was made in a moment called now. That ‘now’ was made fifty years ago and I am so grateful that I made the move. since then I have watched that country fall lower than its knees. Laid waste by corrupt, greedy politicians.

Going Forward.

We consult our inner selves now and plan as to how we will live our lives.  Irrespective what our decisions are, this will  allow us to navigate from today’s now, onward.

It will allow us to plan ahead, because that is wise. Plan, building our life’s foundations on a solid rock now, not waiting for the elusive ‘tomorrow.’

It will allow us to live every moment of our lives in the now. Because neither the past nor the future exist – the only time is, now.

We have been given a lockdown; an opportunity to:

  • Evaluate our relationships, spiritual and human.
  • Find things for which we need to be grateful.
  • Establish what is beneficial in our lives now and discard the unprofitable.
  • Asses what we tolerate and get rid of what’s useless for us to tolerate.

This list is by no means exhaustive.

This moment NOW is where we have been offered a window of time to consider, what changes we can make. This must be done before changes, over which we have no control, move in first.

Don’t waste this space pondering on what could happen, just make it happen.

All rights reserved sirpeterjamesdotcom©2020-03-20

If you feel this article has value, please send this link to others, Writings are meant for people, not for dormant files in our computers and very often when we share them, it results in positive changes in the lives of individuals and communities.

If you are spiritually inclined see my other site; www.adcrucemchristi.com

Please feel free to send in questions (see ‘Contact’) and comments (hit ‘Comments’

button).

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‘Tanamera’ – By Noel Barber

Tanamera

Book Review: ‘Tanamera’ – Noel Barber

Tanamera - Noel Barber Cover Pic

First Published in The United Kingdom in 1981.

Who should read this book? Continue reading ‘Tanamera’ – By Noel Barber

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Lockdown!

Lockdown

Our President placed this country under lockdown as at midnight on Thursday, March 26th. 2020. And this was my take on the issue at that time:

I am the oldest member of my immediate family, which consists of two children and five grandchildren, living in five different homes within a twenty five kilometer radius of one another.

I have never experienced a ‘lockdown’ before.

I grew up in the latter part of the great war and lived in tough post war times following D-Day. My father and three uncles were part of the war machine. One uncle was killed and thankfully my father and his brother came home to us.

I watched two sons conscripted into the war machine in the ‘80’s. Both came home alive, one was wounded and recovered physically, but never psychologically.

Thankfully my grandchildren have grown, one in his teens, four into their twenties. Two have university degrees and three are on their way; all have good homes.

At the onset of Covid-19, my grandchildren, faced with far greater media hype than I ever experienced, were placed in a situation of doubt and concern; notwithstanding their access to information on the internet and research skills acquired in the course of their education, or maybe, because of this fact.

We parents are faced with both the concerns for our children and the economy of our country; it’s population of fifty seven million souls; six million of which live in our city. We are concerned for our own Small Businesses, the livelihood of which supports our family.

This, in addition to our biggest concern for the potential physical effects of the virus upon our population in a third world country, which could not cope with a pandemic, like say, Italy!

In this country, we have the best government since 1994. Our President and Minister of Finance are very capable men (my opinion). So, from a security and economic perspective we have a small chance.

From the virus viewpoint, where the greater percentage of our people are not familiar with preventative measures that need to be applied and our country having very limited medical resource to cope with the size of our population, “Solum habemus fide in Deum – In God alone we trust.”

From what I can gather, our government, businesses and many responsible people, seemed to have galvanized themselves into action. If my Grandchildren asked me what more could be done to help, I would have to say that, outside of following good hygienic preventative measures and obeying what our government have instructed – nothing.

What I would tell them is: we need to look in another direction. Into that lesser understood place within ourselves. That place from which we receive priceless advice, honest advice, advice we are able to rely on.

In the event of some traumatic event affecting our family, our community, country, the globe, as the Covid-19 we face now, what is our very first turn? To fear. Fear of dying, losing a family member, relative, friends. Fear of lack, of material loss, of unemployment, the list is endless. Then we seek advice from wherever we can source it, reliable or otherwise, after which, we worry, even to the point of illness.

With any catastrophe there are certainly two issues that will arise in it’s wake:

  • We can do nothing to change the course of the catastrophe.
  • We can do nothing about the (possibly major) changes that will take place in our lives.

We should accept that the only place where we can make decisions affecting our future  is now, in this moment. The past is too late and the ‘future’, in reality, does not exist.

If we refuse to act in this moment now, we will find that our situation, after a night’s sleep, is in the ‘now’ of what we called ‘tomorrow!’

Among the farming and business population of the country in which I was raised, there was a common saying, “Next year will be better.” I left that country eventually, not by choice. The decision I had to make was almost immediate and I realize now that it was made in a moment called now. That ‘now’ was made fifty years ago and I am so grateful, that I made the move, as I have watched that country fall lower than its knees, laid waste by corrupt, greedy politicians.

Consulting our inner selves now and planning as to how we will live our lives, irrespective of what our decisions are, will allow us to navigate from today’s now, onward.

It will allow us to plan ahead, because that is wise; but to plan building our life’s foundations on a solid rock now, not wait for the elusive ‘tomorrow.’

It will allow us to live every moment of our lives in the now, because neither the past nor the future exist – the only time is, now.

We have been given an opportunity of, now twenty days, lockdown. An opportunity to:

  • Evaluate our relationships, spiritual and human.
  • Evaluate the things for which we need to be grateful.
  • Evaluate what is beneficial in our lives now and discard the unprofitable.
  • Evaluate what we tolerate and get rid of what’s useless for us to tolerate.

This list is by no means exhaustive.

In this moment NOW we have been offered a window of time to consider, what changes we can make, before changes, over which we have no control, will move in first.

Don’t waste this space pondering on what could happen, just make it happen.

All rights reserved sirpeterjamesdotcom©2020-03-20

If you feel this article has value, please send this link to others, Writings are meant for people, not for dormant files in our computers and very often when we share them, it results in positive changes in the lives of individuals and communities.

If you are spiritually inclined see my other site; www.adcrucemchristi.com

Please feel free to send in questions (see ‘Contact’) and comments (hit ‘Comments’

button).

Posted on Leave a comment

The Speech

 

The president stood, flanked by high ranking military officers on the raised deck. A little to one side stood a young Marine, who held the Medal of Honor with the two loose ends of a blue ribband. It was a warm day in Washington DC, there might have Medal of Honor 3been, at the very least, two hundred people crowded into the airy flag bedecked room.

An orderly walked on to the deck and signaled the occupants of the room to silence.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States of America!” He stated.

Continue reading The Speech

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A Letter to the Younger Me – Part One

A Letter to 3

 

 

Who hears the cry of the child within and does not feel their pain. Does not feel their loneliness? Who hears the cry of the child within and does not sense their abandonment. Does not feel their longing for tenderness, understanding?

Continue reading A Letter to the Younger Me – Part One

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The Kite Runner

Kite Runner 10

A Novel by Khaled Hosseini – Book review by sirpeterjamesdotcom.

Khaled Hosseini is an Afghan-born American novelist and physician. After graduating from college, he worked as a doctor in California.Kite Runner

The Kite Runner became a bestseller after being printed in paperback and was popularized in book clubs. It was a number one New York Times bestseller for two years, with over seven million copies sold in the United States.

Continue reading The Kite Runner

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Sir Peter James a Knight of Old

11711121-3d-render-of-a-fire-breathing-dragon--portrait

Ode in honor of all those who war with demons of substance addiction to rescue their fellow humans, before these seek the solace of their own deaths.

Continue reading Sir Peter James a Knight of Old

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Where My Heart Used To Beat

By Sebastian Faulks   – a book Review

“Dark House by which once more I stand, here in the long unlovely street, doors, where my heart used to beat so quickly, waiting for a hand….”

‘In Memoriam’. By Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Continue reading Where My Heart Used To Beat

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Saint Pinard

Saint Pinard

 

 

Saint Pinard

I recall some years ago a conversation I had with a French family, concerning my origins. At the time it raised much mirth among them resulting in the only member of the family, who could speak English, confiding in me.

“Peter” he said, “This name, Pinard is a beet of a joke in France”.

Continue reading Saint Pinard