• Front seat for the fall of liberty
    November 16,2012
     

    Front seat for the fall of liberty

    Somehow, I think we all knew an election like this was coming — but not nearly so soon! Do you sometimes in a quiet moment feel the eyes of patriots gone before us calling across the ages and asking, “How could you fail to protect the promise of America so dearly won?”

    Memories of our early struggles for freedom come flooding back — the freezing winter at Valley Forge, the farm boys whose blood consecrated the ground at Gettysburg, Antietam and Chancellorsville, the suffering in the trenches of World War I, the young men who charged the beaches of Normandy and later liberated the Nazi concentration camps, brave soldiers who froze to death at the Chosin Reservoir, or slogged through the jungles of Viet Nam — all are haunting my thoughts.

    Now consider the recent videos of college students, the products of the leftist garbage taught at our colleges and universities, chanting for “Karl Marx” and “socialism”. They know nothing of the hideous suffering in the gulags of Siberia, the torture endured by real freedom fighters in the communist prisons of Hungary, Czechoslovakia and Poland in the 1950’s, and have they ever even heard of Tiananmen Square? Liberalism has brought us the “slouching toward Gomorrah” in our cultural life — the trash that passes for art and entertainment, and a flagrant disregard for our Constitution and the wisdom of our Founding Fathers. Indeed it becomes apparent that we have been drifting toward, no check that, racing toward our own demise for years — even decades.

    To think we should go out with only a whisper to the screaming hordes displaying their vacuous ignorance and chanting banal demands for hand outs from a government that takes from the hard work of others is disgusting. A far cry isn’t it from “Give me liberty or give me death.”

    I am filled with sadness not only over what we have lost, but over how easily we have let the beautiful promise of America slip through our fingers and traded our sacred liberty for “stuff.”

    Virginia Duffy

    Rutland

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