In June this year, Jacqueline Crank took her daughter Jessica to a clinic in Lenoir City, Tennessee, where attending physicians diagnosed the girl with Ewing's Sarcoma, manifested as a "basketball-sized tumor on her shoulder." They did everything they were supposed to do, taking X-rays, and lining up an appointment with a specialist at the UT Medical Hospital for emergency treatment. Then something odd happened: Instead of driving to the hospital, Crank took her daughter home where she and the girl's "spiritual father," Ariel Ben Sherman, prayed for Jessica's recovery through the intercession of the holy spirit.

Jessica died from bone cancer on September 15. Hoping for a last-minute miracle, Sherman invited several of his followers from the New Life Ministries to pray over the girl's open casket for her "resurrection," which you'd have heard about had it occurred.

Sherman, it turns out, has been in trouble with the law before:

Sherman led the Good Shepard Tabernacle Commune in Oregon in the 1980's. He was charged with five counts of child abuse.
Social workers testified children at the commune were bound with ropes and suspended from the ceiling for hours on end. They were also forced to squat in an empty pool and sprayed with cold water if they soiled themselves.

Perhaps the wisest course would be to allow adherents of faith-healing sects the ability to pray for a medical miracle in cases like this one, provided that there was a mandated time limit of, say, 15 minutes for the miracle to occur. After that, it's off to the hospital.

They Never Give Up

It seems to be a fact of life, just like death and taxes, that when an aggrieved group has the chance to grab some unearned and undeserved cash, they'll go for it every time. Today's Chicago Tribune reports that a new law is going into effect that requires "businesses vying for city contracts to search their records and disclose whether they profited from slavery." Turns out this is a thinly disguised ploy by Chicago Alderman Dorothy Tillman to get the reparations machine back into gear.

"We want to know what was your role in slavery, what did you do, was your company built off the backs of slaves," Tillman said. "If they answer wrong, they can no longer do business with the city."

"Reparations will be dealt with through our attorneys. We're talking about repairing the damage of 400 years. We expect these companies to repair the damage that they've done," Tillman said.

2:42:57 PM       

Given a perfect world, this writer would be living in a big city right now. I've always loved the neon, the culture, and the particular attitude that defines each machine-like organism—from Chicago to Los Angeles, Tokyo to San Francisco. So when I was faced with the prospect of moving to a small town in the Deep South, it was only natural for me to envision a Faulkneresque tableaux of dusty streets, mangy dogs, and men sitting on curbs listlessly fanning themselves with shapeless, sweat-soaked hats. Turned out it wasn't that bad. But there were some cultural adjustments I had to make, and one of these was learning to acquaint myself with the Southern Man.

The Southern Man tends to run large, with red beefy features and watery, sun-blasted eyes. His easy-going drawl and "aw-shucks" modesty dare one to think him slow and simple, which is usually a mistake, for he is crafty. He knows what he wants out of life and love, as the following personal ad in this morning's paper attests:

Southern Gentleman SWM seeks
attractive SWF, 35 yrs. & older.
Lady must have her head & life to-
gether. I'm looking for a real love
relationship, not a buddy. Knowing
how to wear a dress would be helful.
After all, a woman wasn't creat-
ed to wear only blue jeans. Write
Box "XXX", The Dothan Eagle, P.O.
Box 1968, Dothan AL 36302

9:07:50 AM