Holy Cross and Justice Clarence Thomas: October 2013

Saturday, October 26, 2013

How I became Hispanic.

Some years ago I was working at home and a knocking came at the door.   When I opened the door there was a young woman.
How can I help you, says I.
I am here to take the census.
This gave pause as it was 1995.   You are very early or very late, says I.
Oh, we're taking a special census.   We think we've missed some of the Hispanics in the last census and the city can get more money from the federal government if we find them.
I'd be glad to help you find the lost Hispanics. How can I help?
I just have two questions you need to answer.
Go ahead, says I.
What is your race?
Scientifically there is no such thing as race, young lady.
(since this was the government, I demurred on my "we're all one in Christ bit")
She didn't miss a beat and checked off race = smart aleck.
Do you have any Hispanic ancestry.   (the infinitely powerful word any)
What do you mean by any.
Any ancestor from any country on this list.
And she handed me a very long list. I turned it over to the other side and found a match.
Yes, says I.
She smiled, elated that she had found one of the lost Hispanics, said thanks and was off without another word, not bothering to ask about my ancestor the Spanish Armada sailor shipwrecked on the Irish coast.

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The identity we know as Hispanic today is a result of the marriage of Celtic Iberia and the Roman Republic, whose forces under Scipio Africanus allied with Spain's Celts to defeat Hannibal of Carthage during the Punic wars.

"Livy tells the story of the capture of a beautiful woman by his troops, who offered her to Scipio as a prize of war. Scipio was astonished by her beauty, but discovered that the woman was betrothed to a Celtiberian chieftain named Allucius. He returned her to her fiancé, along with the money that had been offered by her parents to ransom her. While Scipio was long known for his great chivalry, Scipio doubtless also realized that the [Roman] Senate's first priority was the war in Italy, and in the midst of the Carthaginian base in Hispania, he was to be outnumbered without much hope of reinforcement. It was paramount therefore that Scipio cooperate with local chieftains to both supply and reinforce his small army. The woman's fiance, who soon married her, naturally brought over his tribe to support the Roman armies"
-- Livy, Ab urbe condita

Monday, October 21, 2013

The Way of the Dragon

My young brother was out shopping one fine Topeka day and as he approached the Walmart entrance he came upon a young couple being accosted by several skinheads. It was a nasty pushing and shoving, profanity laced, intimidating altercation. Tim walks up and shouts at the skinheads to stop. Which they do and immediately start screaming and threatening my brother. Tim's response is to shout. I'm FBI and if you guys don't beat it, I'm taking you all in. (Tim's credibility on this was helped by the fact that he is 6' 3'' and looks like his great-grandfather, one of the NYPD's 40 Immortals). The skinheads head for the Flint Hills.

Relieved of this trouble Tim proceeds into the Walmart where he encounters the young couple. The young woman is in tears. Her husband has his arms wrapped around her and turns his head to my brother. "Thank you so much for stopping them. Are you really FBI?" "Yes that's true," says my brother with a smile. "Full Blooded Irishman." Quick on his feet, too.

Friday, October 18, 2013

The Quiet Man

When the Irish students at Holy Cross discovered that Clarence Thomas and Ted Wells had formed a Black Students Union, they felt left out.   The British were long gone from County Clare, the civil rights movement in Northern Ireland was still just a twinkle in Bernadette Devlin's eye, and the Bloody Sunday Bogside Massacre was four years off.   The Catholic Church had done it's darnedest to drill into us "Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, and unto God what is God's."   But we were all reeling from the assassinations: Kennedy, King, Kennedy. The Vietnam war was a bad dream that wouldn't go away (and still is), spoiling what was left of our little honeymoon at Holy Cross before getting on with life.

Little IRA signs started appearing around the campus. They should have read Sinn Fein, but with the Jesuits more interested in teaching Latin and Greek and, with few Gaelic speakers among the students, few would have gotten the message.

Not long after, a bunch of freshmen marched on Mulledy Hall, the junior and senior residence, rumored to be the headquarters of the Holy Cross chapter of the Irish Republican Army.   IRA! IRA! IRA! They chanted.   We cowered at the windows, watching them, looking at each other, wondering what would happen next.   A large fellow, a tackle on the football team who didn't say much, appeared and asked what the commotion was.   "They think this is IRA headquarters and won't leave."   He thought about this for a moment and said, "Okay, I'll take care of it."

He went outside and invited the demonstrators in.
"Thank you for coming, Lads."
"Please take a seat on the floor and I will share with you our plans."
"Ireland is yet not free!"
"Brits out of Ireland!"
"HOOORAY!!!!!" shouted the freshmen
"We oppose tyranny and oppression wherever it may be!"
"HOOORAY!!!!!" shouted the freshman
"We are behind the blacks students 100 percent in their fight against tyranny and oppression!"
"HOOORAY!!!!!" shouted the freshmen
"When they take over the ROTC building, we'll take over the greenhouse!"
"HOOORAY!!!!!" shouted the freshmen
"We are a secret society.   Here's what I need you to do."
"HOOORAY!!!!!" shouted the freshmen
"Go back to your rooms and don't say a word about our meeting to anyone. Not even your confessor."
"HOOORAY!!!!!" shouted the freshmen
"We are never to be seen talking together in public again."
"When I need you, I will call on you."
"HOOORAY!!!!!" shouted the freshmen
"Now leave by different doors, by one's and two's."
"Be careful you're not followed. There are informers among us."
The freshman drifted off into the night.