The Verdict, The Sentence, The Aftermath

Considering that the crime and the trial took place less than an hour south of where I live, I have paid a fair amount of attention to the Karmelo Anthony-Austin Metcalf story;  from the time Karmelo stabbed and killed Austin right up through the trial, the guilty verdict, the 35-year prison sentence and the aftermath.

Most white folks feel that the verdict was right and the sentence was appropriate, if anything perhaps Anthony should have received a life sentence or worse.  And they are fed up with black politicians and activists playing the race card every time they don’t like the answer or the outcome.  I take it all with a grain of salt. This is just part of their job description.  It’s the way things work.

But at a deeper level I am guessing that a lot of blacks are once again having questions about our justice system.  While many, if not most blacks likely agree that Karmelo Anthony was guilty; they are asking themselves how this would have turned out if Karmelo had been a white kid represented by a blue-chip defense attorney.  Probably a guilty verdict of some sort, but perhaps to a lesser charge, maybe just manslaughter.  Even if he’d been found guilty of the same charge carrying the same range of sentencing, would he have gotten 35 years?

There remains in the black community a nagging sense that white people tend to get the benefit of the doubt.  When it’s between a 5 or a 99 year sentence the young white kid gets 10 or 15 tops, the black kid gets more, as in 35 years.  If there is potential for a lesser charge or a reduced sentence, the white guy is more likely to receive it or so it seems.

One may say that is no longer the way it works.  That these days the scales are balanced, maybe even tipping slightly in favor of non-whites.  I don’t think that is the case, but even if it were, it’s a recent development.  The black experience in America has seen enough injustice to last well beyond the lives of those who suffered the most from it.  Therefore, the questions and the doubts are never far away and tend to readily surface in cases such as this one.

 “Time heals all wounds, but it does not erase the scars.”- Jane Yolen

                                                            

Other Roads

 

Last week I made a quick trip down to Austin.  From Grayson County the most direct route takes one down 75 and somehow through Dallas; and if you’re lucky it spews the traveler on to I-35 South toward Waco and beyond.  Many years ago, within 15 minutes after clearing the Big D hurdle the traffic thinned out and it became an easy drive in the country.  But over the years it’s changed.  It’s more noticeable to old guys like me.  Now it’s essentially urban freeway traffic all the way only with more trucks.  And about the time you get to Round Rock it becomes an urban traffic jam, more like a “no way” than a freeway.  And during rush hour the highways in and around Austin are more stop than go. 

So, when I headed back north the next day, I took the scenic route, up 183 to Lampasas and 281 all the way to I-20 then to Weatherford and north on 51 up to Cook County and 82 back home.  It takes an hour longer to go that way but it’s time well spent.  Most of all, if you are Texas born and raised, it feels like it used to be or at least the way you thought it was.  You understand that it’s changed, but there are reminders. The land, the animals, the people; the well-kept farms and ranches, productive with tight fences, new metal barns standing beside what’s left of an old wooden one.  Healthy looking cattle and horses, even lambs and goats in some places.  The biggest and best-looking places are mostly owned by wealthy folks from the big cities. They hire locals to do the hard work but can still tell their business associates they’ll be at the ranch this weekend “doing some work around the place”.

It’s not all good though.  One can’t help but see the signs of poverty and decay.  Less so in the Hill Country where city money and the old German influence make a difference.  But elsewhere in rural Texas it’s there. Beat up cars and pick-ups parked on dirt yards in front of old farmhouses or mobile homes.  Maybe a few toys laying around. Always some old tires.  Maybe a lawnmower that no longer works.  A dog or two lying on the porch or under a piece of farm equipment, waiting for something or someone to chew on.  There aren’t many good jobs in these places.  And it’s impossible to make a living these days farming or ranching on a small scale.  But folks get by, legally or otherwise.  It’s not pretty, but it’s also part of Texas.

If you are a recent arrival to the Lone Star state maybe it’s what you thought Texas would be right up until you found yourself stuck in traffic or living in a suburban neighborhood that just looks like every other suburban neighborhood and not much at all like Texas.  But Texas is still out there.  You won’t find it from an Interstate highway.  Take some other roads. Have lunch at the “best” local restaurant wherever you happen to be at lunchtime.  Stop and read some historical markers.  You might come to understand how and why native Texans feel the way they do about this state.  Just don’t cross the yellow line and if a driver in an on-coming vehicle lifts a finger or two from the steering wheel, they are not flipping you off.  It’s just sign language for howdy.