Letters on prostitution sting, deer season, poetry for Hef
Nov. 14, 2017 at 12:29 a.m.
I choose to pray
I was shocked to learn of Dr. Richard Hamer's arrest during the prostitution sting in Shreveport (news story, Nov. 2). My shock soon turned to deep sadness.
I used to be in the same Sunday School class at First Baptist with him and his wife Michelle back in the mid-'90s. They were such lovely people. Dr. Hamer is now my neurologist and he is a brilliant one. More importantly, he is a human being. Can you imagine your most embarrassing, shameful and private sin being written about in the newspaper or on social media or on TV for all to see and hear? I can't think of anything more humiliating.
People are so quick to judge and I have been guilty of that myself. I guess that's just human nature. It's just my hope that people will keep in mind that just because he was arrested doesn't mean he is guilty. Things aren't always as they seem. I'm not defending him as much as I am just wanting people to wait until all the facts and evidence come in before rushing to judgment. How about praying for him and his sweet wife and family?
This is just such a sad situation. I choose to pray for them.
Mikalene Browning Sutton, White Oak
Deer season and evil
Deer season opened Nov. 4 for second class citizens, after first class citizens' season opened Sept. 30.
The Fourth Amendment says you have the right to be secure in your person. The Texas Parks & Wildlife Department has court decisions that say you have no right to privacy in the open fields, known as "Open Fields Doctrine." My question is about security, not privacy.
Deer hunters must carry a measuring tape to measure the "inside spread of deer antlers." Of less than 13 inches, they are forbidden. I have heard of people (who do not eat antlers), when they discover their deer antlers are only 12 7/8 inches, put their gun barrel against one side of the antlers and pull the trigger. One-sided antlers are approved.
We fight not against flesh and blood, but against evil governments and Satan, the wily one.
Lloyd Crabtree, Big Sandy
A sonnet for Hef
Hugh Hefner, upon his death. Sonnet:
There is a place in yonder valley
where the Viagra grows on trees
and girls named Ginger or Susie or Callie
sit by the pool in a soft summer breeze
getting their nails and hair just right
waiting for him to float by,
(just keep giving all you got, no need to ask him why.)
We can speak of love if that's what you want,
even serve you a cup of tea,
but you must be ready when comes the hunt
that they've named fantasy:
Ah, but the winged messenger has taken flight;
The play is over, turn out the light.
Jack Butler, Gladewater