Pardon Me

The idea of presidential pardons have always intrigued me, as if God loaned you his mantle….forgive forgive forgive, those who’ve trespassed against you, along with their country, in your name.

I know this will sound strange but, Mr. Trump pardoning his own Hole in the Wall Gang, seems kinda’ just to me, since they were bandits on his behalf after all, even if they were already wanted in 12 states…in theory at least. 

Imagine Butch, pardoning, Flat-Nose Curry.

He pardoned 117 people in all from the time he took office in 2017, some that would actually break your heart.

Abraham Lincoln was a big pardoner through his whole presidency, 64 in all, mostly soldiers. He even pardoned one named Patrick Murphy on the day he was assassinated.

His Secretary of War, Edwin Stanton, would argue, you need to make examples of these deserters, and Abe would say…oh, they’re not deserters, just boys that are a little homesick.

My heart gave a big thump as I penned that.

We too pardon in our personal lives, like the other day when a little girl ran over my foot with her miniature stroller.

As I hopped around, she started to cry. I said, “It’s okay, you didn’t mean it.”

“But I hut you,” she said, tears nestling on her tiny cheeks.

“It’s alright, you didn’t mean to hut me.”

Then, taking my leave, ran into a woman coming out of the subway, knocking her bag on the ground. As I bent to pick it up, handing it to her, said…

“Pardon me….I’m so sorry.”

And after very little fuss, she did. 

SB