Francis Meyrick

The ghost of Rich Mountain

Posted on September 25, 2022

On one of my many, long, solo, Harley motorcycle treks, away, far away, musing on quiet thoughts, I too, softly, walked this ancient cemetery. It is a beautiful place. The wind was soft that day. Just breathing Life Precious, through eager leaves. And my mind, already knowing the story of the little girl, moved back to ancient times. And the pioneer folk who, grieving, buried her there.
I find such moments far from morbidly depressing. More, uplifting. Soaring, even.
A moment in Time, when the often obscured Truth of our Human Existence? That strange mask that we (or others) impose upon our sight? Is gently peeled off for us mortals, to see, clearly, at least for a brief moment.
We are so small. So finite. So very limited in our capacity to grasp our frailty. How easy it is for men to float off the cardboard stage, puffed up with vanity, and Narcissistic hubris.
I read statements by our politicians, I read their body language, I sense the haughty condescension in their gaze. So often, these days, their cruel perversions not even disguised.
At times they make me angry, and I launch my too wordy, possibly futile, tirades. They make me cross.
At other times, I just feel sad. And I wonder, how can I even begin to communicate, how millions of us, lowly ‘cattle’, feel and think so vastly differently. Which doesn’t make us any less. Or make us into an expendable ‘herd’, that may be culled and medically experimented upon, to these haughty would-be owners satisfaction?
For we, hundreds of millions of us, are opposed to Judaism. Their Communism, their awful Talmud. Their terrible record of blood & murder, genocide and cruelty. Their insidious, blatant nepotism, and demonic power-seeking.
We are simple, deeply respecting men and women. We maybe conceive of our God in different ways, but we are united in the love for our people, and the Search for our heavenly Father. The Creator of the Universe, we sense, and hold in awe. It is not permissible for a small, tiny, ruthless tribe, to seek to brazenly impose its vision and will upon the rest of humanity.
What manner of Man dare solemnly claim:
“Since the Jews are the highest and most cultured people on Earth, the Jews have the right to subordinate to themselves the rest of Mankind, and to be Masters over the whole Earth.”
Yet ‘Rabbi’ Harry Waton makes this claim, proudly, in his book??
I am not a ‘hater’. I could lose myself in a mountain cabin, surrounded by books, poetry, a well-ridden Harley, and the stars at night. But in my own way, I love my people. And I shall fight, if need be, tooth and nail.
That little girl, so long ago, who bravely went out into the storm, trudging through the snow, to fetch water. Her family so sick. And then she encountered the wolves?
She lies there, buried, in a perfect place. And we, pilgrims, tread softly.
We think of the tales told, of strange lights, and the figure of a little girl, glimpsed, briefly, running through the trees.
And I, as a mortal, puny man, in awe of my brief Existence, in awe of my Creator, in eternal search of meaning & truth?
I wish she would appear to me, hesitant, and shy. Just for a moment. And I could drop to my knees, hold out my arms, and encourage her to run into my warm embrace…

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