Post by jack on Nov 10, 2005 5:23:42 GMT 12
Gidday
Here is a true story which will give you something to think about.
In 1971 after joining the Police Force I was posted to one of our richest provincial cities. My first arrest was a man who had been caught shoplifting. He was 58 years old and had stolen a bottle of meths and a tin of herrings in tomatoe sauce. That was his wine and bread.
When I first saw him he was in the office of the supermarket where he had been caught and as it was early spring and a nice sunny day, he had his jacket off and over his arm.
I arrested him and took him back to the Police Station, where I interviewed him then finger printed him and placed him in a cell. During the interview, I learnt his life story.
Here it is.
He had been married with a young family and an interior decorator, with up to 7 gangs of workers doing painting and paper hanging. The business took up a lot of his time but he was very successful and was making a lot of money, but he personally had had very little time to enjoy his wealth.
However, his wife got tired of staying home with the children and when the children were at school developed a very full social live. This developed until she found another man who had the time to help her spend the money that was coming into their household.
The result, was a broken marriage. The Courts awarded the wife the family home and the man had to move out, and he also had to pay her a considerable amount of money for maintenance or alimony as the Yanks call it. In those days it was normally awarded as an actual amount of money per year based on the man's previous income.
However, when this poor bugger had to move out of his home, he rented a flat, which without notice was sold so he had to move again and again. Every time he lost his address and phone number so in a short time his business also. With no income he was unable to pay the maintenance bill and he had no money for lawyers to go back to Court to have it lowered or wiped. The result was a warrant for his arrest which drove him into hiding and on the run from the Police and his past.
Every year he was on the run another warrant was issued for even more money. When I did the wanted check on him his warrants totalled several thousands of pounds. In fact it came to more than the house I was living in was worth.
Being on the run meant he had to keep moving from town to town so he would not be noticed. Like I said to start with this was very early springtime, and for the last six months he had been living under buildings or in hedges and eating out of trash cans, yes, right through the winter.
My heart was moved and my guts really churned at the thought of this poor old bugger and what he had gone through. I was new to this city but wanted to do something so he could possibly get bail and someone to help him sort things out. I went into an office and shut myself in, then started phoning around. I phoned the 5 main Churches in town trying to get some help for this man, and every one had asked exactly the same question, "What religion is he?" As I hadn't thought that relevant so I had not asked him.
I must add here that I had not phoned the Salvation Army, as the day before the local Captain had told me how they were unable to take anyone else in as the previous night he had to put all his own children into one bedroom to take someone in for a few days.
Well, bugger me dead, what else could I do? I went back down to the cell block to ask the poor bugger what religion he was, and when I opened his cell door, as it was getting late and cold he had put his coat on. I immediately saw a small badge on his lapel. Without saying a word to him I shut the cell door again and went back down to the office and phone the R.S.A. (Returned Servicemens Association). I told them briefly about the man and said he had one of their badges on his coat, but didn't know if it had been stolen or not and the question that I was asked was "What size is he?"
Stunned, I asked why and the man at the R.S.A. simply said, "So I can bring down a change of clothes for him." They then appeared in the Court to support him the next day and gave him accommodation so that he sould be bailed, then arranged for a lawyer as well.
That poor old bugger had been willing to lay down his life for his country during the war but later because he tried so hard to provide for his family, he was made homeless and was set to die in the gutter. The Churches would not help him unless they knew what religion he was but the old soldiers stepped forward to help without even knowing if he was really one of their own.
That is why I have always had more respect for the R.S.A. than the Churches.
Here is a true story which will give you something to think about.
In 1971 after joining the Police Force I was posted to one of our richest provincial cities. My first arrest was a man who had been caught shoplifting. He was 58 years old and had stolen a bottle of meths and a tin of herrings in tomatoe sauce. That was his wine and bread.
When I first saw him he was in the office of the supermarket where he had been caught and as it was early spring and a nice sunny day, he had his jacket off and over his arm.
I arrested him and took him back to the Police Station, where I interviewed him then finger printed him and placed him in a cell. During the interview, I learnt his life story.
Here it is.
He had been married with a young family and an interior decorator, with up to 7 gangs of workers doing painting and paper hanging. The business took up a lot of his time but he was very successful and was making a lot of money, but he personally had had very little time to enjoy his wealth.
However, his wife got tired of staying home with the children and when the children were at school developed a very full social live. This developed until she found another man who had the time to help her spend the money that was coming into their household.
The result, was a broken marriage. The Courts awarded the wife the family home and the man had to move out, and he also had to pay her a considerable amount of money for maintenance or alimony as the Yanks call it. In those days it was normally awarded as an actual amount of money per year based on the man's previous income.
However, when this poor bugger had to move out of his home, he rented a flat, which without notice was sold so he had to move again and again. Every time he lost his address and phone number so in a short time his business also. With no income he was unable to pay the maintenance bill and he had no money for lawyers to go back to Court to have it lowered or wiped. The result was a warrant for his arrest which drove him into hiding and on the run from the Police and his past.
Every year he was on the run another warrant was issued for even more money. When I did the wanted check on him his warrants totalled several thousands of pounds. In fact it came to more than the house I was living in was worth.
Being on the run meant he had to keep moving from town to town so he would not be noticed. Like I said to start with this was very early springtime, and for the last six months he had been living under buildings or in hedges and eating out of trash cans, yes, right through the winter.
My heart was moved and my guts really churned at the thought of this poor old bugger and what he had gone through. I was new to this city but wanted to do something so he could possibly get bail and someone to help him sort things out. I went into an office and shut myself in, then started phoning around. I phoned the 5 main Churches in town trying to get some help for this man, and every one had asked exactly the same question, "What religion is he?" As I hadn't thought that relevant so I had not asked him.
I must add here that I had not phoned the Salvation Army, as the day before the local Captain had told me how they were unable to take anyone else in as the previous night he had to put all his own children into one bedroom to take someone in for a few days.
Well, bugger me dead, what else could I do? I went back down to the cell block to ask the poor bugger what religion he was, and when I opened his cell door, as it was getting late and cold he had put his coat on. I immediately saw a small badge on his lapel. Without saying a word to him I shut the cell door again and went back down to the office and phone the R.S.A. (Returned Servicemens Association). I told them briefly about the man and said he had one of their badges on his coat, but didn't know if it had been stolen or not and the question that I was asked was "What size is he?"
Stunned, I asked why and the man at the R.S.A. simply said, "So I can bring down a change of clothes for him." They then appeared in the Court to support him the next day and gave him accommodation so that he sould be bailed, then arranged for a lawyer as well.
That poor old bugger had been willing to lay down his life for his country during the war but later because he tried so hard to provide for his family, he was made homeless and was set to die in the gutter. The Churches would not help him unless they knew what religion he was but the old soldiers stepped forward to help without even knowing if he was really one of their own.
That is why I have always had more respect for the R.S.A. than the Churches.
best fighting force dat Nz produced, good onya mate. 