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The NEW BERN
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KOLINA
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VOLUME 3
NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, JANUARY 27, 1961
NUMBER 42
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Lucy in death needs no eptitaph,
carved on cold marble, to kpep her
forever enshrined in the hearts of
those who loved her. If you’ve ever
had a dog that became a cherished
and highly respected member of
your family, you know whereof we
apeak.
These lines from the pen of Lord
Byron would have been peculiarly
appropriate, had we seen fit to
inscribe something on stone for
the passerby to gaze at and reflect
upon; “Near this spot are deposit
ed the remains of one who pos
sessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence, Cour
age without Ferocity, and all the
Virtues of Maih without the Vices.”
To Lucy, the editor of The Mir
ror was God. We didn’t remotely
deserve the pedestal she placed
up on—^that’s why the worship in
her expressive eyes never failed
to humble us and make us uncom
fortably aware of our human frail
ty.
Her faith never faltered. Con
scious to the last, she wanted to be
close to us in her final moments.
Instinctively, with the strange un
explainable wisdom that the Crea
tor gives the animal kingdom, she
sensed death an hour before it
came. For the first time during her
three-day illness, she whimpered
softly. This was it, and she knew
it.
It wasn’t a whimper of complaint
or pain, but art expression of ap
prehensiveness. She was walking
....w.n«-i"^rough the valley of the shadow
b£ death, and even as humans do,
she npoded reassurance as she
crossed over into the Great Be
yond.
There was a look of apology in
her eyes that broke our heart in
the early gray quietness of that
chilly January morning. It was just
as if she were saying, “I’ve kept
you up all night, I’ve worried you,
and I’m sorry.”
Lucy died as she had lived, with
true dignity. Something died in us
too, when the joyous animation
that was part and parcel of her
passed from her body. People al
ways' die a little themselves when
!' someone dear takes leave. It’s the
price you pay for loving, but who
Wants to live a life without love,
and tenderness and compassion?
Because she always made the
;r, rounds with us, in New Bern’s busi
ness district and elsewhere, a great
many citizens knew her by name.
We used to say, jokingly, that a
’ “■’"TBir qf folks spoke to Lucy who did
n’t speak to us. It’s true that some
people did just that, but it didn’t
hurt our feelings.
So far as we know, she never
had an enemy, unless you want to
count the occasional cats she gave
chase to, and the squirrels she
barked at when they scrambled up
a convenient tree to evade her.
Actually, Lucy didn’t hate cats.
We were convinced of that on one
occasion when she encountered a
defensively little kitty, and was
kindness itself. To teU the truth,
she was rather on the timid side,
and a prostrate June bug, squirm
ing on its back on the sidewalk,
was sufficiently omnious in appear
ance to intimidate her.
We were often asked what breed
of dog^^e was, but that was some
thing no one could figure out with
reasonable certainty. She was given
to us by someone who didn’t want
her. The man who wished her off
on us had fallen heir to her in
similar fashion.
When we first saw Lucy, she was
tied to a tree and looking very de
jected. We untied the rope, and
she licked our hand in gratitude.
From that day until the morning
she died, we^^could do no wrong as
far as she was concerned.
It has always been a matter of
conjecture in our home as to
whether Lucy ever realized she was
ConNnii^ on Pas* 8)
BERN’S OWN-^ctor^
a crack drill team that brightens Shrine Geremonials here
and elsewhere in eastern North Carolina. There were at
their sparkling best before Tibbie lb^S>i^^!er(!fay,' hs
Sudan Temple’s Winter Ceremonial reached its colorful
climax with a parade and the Potentate’s Ball.
Most of New Bern's Citizens
Are Againstthe Gas Chamber
It came as no surprise, during
the January term of Craven Su
perior Court, when two yout,hs who
admitted the brutal slaying of an
elderly man, got off with life im
prisonment.
Theirs was a vicious crime. They
went to the home of the intended
victim under cover of darkness,
with robbery in. mind. One was
armed with an ice pick, and he
plunged it into the old man’s breast
repeatedly as soon as a knock on
the door was answered.
A single thrust was enough—it
ripped the victim’s heart open. The
^additional violence, including an
arm wound, was simply to make
sure that the man wouldn’t live
to point a finger of guilt at his two
young neighbors.
As he sank to the floor in a cor
ner of his shanty, the dying man
slumped against the wall. Seated
there—helpless—he bled to death
internally while the accomplice of
the pick wielder bent over him and
robbed him of a wallet containing
over $400.
The two youths, in business-like
fashion, carefully locked the door
behind them as they left the scene
of their cold-blooded murder. The
old man’s body was discovered next
day. The youths, flashing their
blood money and spending it with
reckless abandon, had only a few
cents left when apprehended by
authorities.
Because it was clearly a pre
meditated murder, admittedly plan
ned for two weeks, the two slayers
were tried for their lives. One of
them—the wallet grabber—testi
fied that it had been debated
whether to stab the victim, shoot
him or knock him in the head.
When the jury was being select
ed, a majority of the prospective
jurors frankly and honestly admit
ted that they were opposed to capi
tal punishments in all cases, re
gardless of the circumstances.
Finally, several men and women
who said they were against send
ing a fellow human to the gas
chamber ended up on the jury. Ob
viously, there was virtually no
chance of a death sentence after
this occurred.
When the verdict was rendered,
it proved to be life imprisonment
as anticipated by everyone present
in the courtroom. Actually, the
two murderers, if they remain on
good behavior, can be free after
serving a fraction of the mandatory
sentence meted out to them by the
presiding judge.
After the trial, one of the jurors
told The Mirror that at no time
were the lives of the two slayers
in jeopardy. “All of us voted
against the death penalty on the
first ballot,” he said. Their delib
eration from that point on concern
ed the amount of punishment they
felt the youth who didn’t do the
actual stabbing deserved. They de
cided that he was as guilty as his
partner.
If you favor capital punishment,
when evidence merits a first de
gree conviction, you’ll probably ^^e-
gard this tis a miscarriage of jus
tice. That the jury, composed of
respectable and intelligent citi
zens, acted in good conscience,
there can be no doubt. Whether
they rendered a wise decision can
be argued.
However, there is no assurance
that you would have held out for
the death penalty, had you been
on that jury. Many a citizen talks
big, until he gets on a murder
jury, and then turns squeamish
about sending the convicted party
to the gas chamber.
Facts revealed in a sample sur
vey of law abiding citizens, made
by The Mirror, indicates conclu
sively that only a small percentage
of New Bern and Craven county
citizens favor capital punishment
today. So pronounced is the gen
eral sentiment against taking a
man’s life legally, that the death
chair at State prison in Raleigh
seems destined to gather cobwebs
indefinitely.
Far be it from The Mirror to
criticize the Craven jury we’ve
been talking about. It is too much
to expect of anyone sincerely op
posed to death in the gas chamber
to ask them to be a party to snuff
ing out a life.
Is the steady decline, and appar
ently eventual extinction of capi
tal punishment encouraging mur
der and other capital offenses? It’s
a question not easily answered.
Having covered murder trials for
30 years, we’re convinced that very
few murderers consider the possi
ble punishment for their crimes
when they perpetuate their act.
And, contrary to popular belief,
there is no such exact category as
a “murder type.” A few murderers
look the part, and act the part—
they have discernible homicidal
characteristics. But by and large,
some of the most vicious slayers
we’ve ever sat within arm’s length
of, before the bar of justice, were
as meek appearing as a mouse.
Interwoven in the fabric of al
most every homicide are strands
of stupidity. Killings, more often
than not, occur without rhyme nr
reason, and are frequently trig
gered by trifles light as air. This
holds true almost invariably in
cases of second degree murder
and manslaughter, where there is
no advance planning on the part of
the slayer.
In addition to first degree mur
der, capital offenses in North Car
olina are arson, first degree burg
lary and rape. Arson is punishable
by death if a residence in which
people are sleeping is deliberately
set fire to, and first degree burg
lary involves armed entry of a rest
dence.
Believe it or not, back in 1768
there were no less than 160 of
fenses that a man might be put to
death for in England, extending
from the gravest crimes to petty
thefts. Today, in most civilized
countries, capital punishment is us
ed for only two crimes—^treason,
and murder in the first degree.
Students of criminology have
reached the conclusion that it is
not so much the severity of punish
ment which puts a stop to crime
as the certainty of punishment.
This too is open to debate, in view
of mounting lawlessness in many
sectors.
At any rate, the gas chamber at
Raleigh won’t get many occupants
from New Bern and Craven county,
if local citizens have to send them
there.
Children are all foreigners. W*
treat them as such. — Ralph Wat
do Emerson.