An Absence of Bitterness

There were some extraordinary grace notes in the U.S. newspapers last week--remarks that might have been greeted as bathetic, fatuous or corny had they not been spoken in such moving circumstances.

In Marshalltown, Iowa, 800 people gathered for a memorial service honoring Marine Lance Corporal Darwin Judge. He was one of the last four Americans killed during the final evacuation of Viet Nam. His parents had the added pain of knowing that in the confusion, Darwin's body had been left behind in Saigon. But Postman Henry Judge displayed no rancor. Said he: "We've always stood up for the Lord, our country and the flag." Added Ida Judge: "You know, if it's your turn to die --and only the Lord knows that--what more beautiful way to die than for your country? I'm proud my son died for his country."

In his Washington, D.C., hospital room, Steven Laine also refused to be bitter. An aide to Secretary of Agriculture Earl Butz, Laine had been walking to his office through a crowd of 125,000 gathered on the grounds by the Washington Monument for a rock festival celebrating--inappropriately, as it turned out--"Human Kindness Day." Wandering gangs of black teen-agers circulated through the crowd beating up whites at random, robbing whites and some blacks as well. One of the muggers attacked Laine, stabbing him in the right eye, which he subsequently lost.

"I believe in the rules and precepts that Christ handed down to us," said Laine while recovering. "The ill will of a few people is not indicative of the feeling of harmony in that group. I've lived for 46 years with two eyes, and I can make it the rest of the way, the good Lord willing, with one."

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