Gore and punishment

On April 11, 1989, Terry Joe Windham, on probation for burglary and
vandalism, decided to commit a murder to see what it felt like.

Windham’s victim was 16-year-old Jeremy Peter Flachbart, a learning
disabled student with the emotional and physical stature of a 12- or
13-year-old. He ambushed Jeremy on his way home from school, striking
him in the back of the head with a fencepost.

When Jeremy collapsed from the blow, Windham hit him 10 more times.
After the 10th blow, Jeremy groaned. Windham hit him five more times to
finish him off.

Windham hid Jeremy’s battered body in a drainage ditch by railroad
tracks. Then he boasted of his accomplishment in a local game room —
even taking his brother and friends to see the body.

Jeremy Peter Flachbart

While the police investigated the brutal murder, Windham observed and
continued to brag about his role. He even threatened to kill others if
they talked.

Ultimately, he was arrested at the scene and later confessed to
everything I have just written.

You might say: “Farah, all of this sounds very familiar.

You’ve
written about this 11-year-old murder case before. What does it have to do with my life?”

I’ll tell you about the relevance of this case.

In February of 1992, Jeremy’s mother contacted Sens. Jim Sasser, Al Gore and Rep. John Tanner of Tennessee for assistance on public access to parole hearings and to get the venue of those hearings moved back to the Memphis/Shelby County area where the crime was committed. The killer is housed in a prison far from the area in which the crime was committed, but one convenient for the relatives of the murderer.

Both Tanner and Sasser were very helpful in getting the parole hearings moved to Nashville — at least a half-way point.

But Al Gore, with his sights already set on the vice presidency, wouldn’t lift a finger to help one of his bereaved constituents.

Read what Mr. Compassion told Jeremy’s mom,

Gail Keasling, in a phony-baloney personal excuse:

“Thank you for contacting me recently. I appreciate your making me aware of this situation.

“Since this is a legal matter, my office is not able to offer you the assistance you have requested. Because I am a member of the legislative branch of our government, the Constitution forbids me from playing any role in the judicial process. It would be in your best interest to contact an attorney concerning your rights in this matter. If you do not have an attorney or have had problems in locating an attorney to handle your case, you may want to contact the nearest Tennessee Bar Association office for a referral.

“If there is any way that I can be of assistance to you with any other matter, please let me know. You can contact my office at 403 Federal Building, 167 North Main Street, Memphis, Tennessee 38103.

“Sincerely, Al Gore”

Do you believe this guy? That was his cold-hearted advice for a mother still grieving over the loss of her son: “Get a lawyer.” This is the guy whom, we are led to believe, now has the solutions to every conceivable problem under the sun. He’s going to take care of every American — leave no one behind. Yet, this is how he treated his own constituents as a member of the Senate. “Get a lawyer. My hands are tied. The Constitution prevents me from making a call.”

This must be the first time Al Gore has ever glanced at the Constitution. Just look at his program as a presidential candidate. Can he seriously defend one-tenth of his agenda on constitutional grounds?

Yet, here he stretched the truth to suggest that making a phone call or writing a letter on behalf of a righteous constituent would somehow be a violation of the separation of powers. What a joke. Gore has played, for the last eight years, second fiddle in an executive branch that has usurped and exercised powers never dreamed of by those who wrote the Constitution.

It may just be a forgotten letter written eight years ago, but I think it sums up the disingenuous, deceitful, cold, virtueless character of Al Gore. It brings it all home.

Don’t be fooled by this guy, America. Al Gore doesn’t care about little Jeremy. He doesn’t care about his mom. No matter what he tells you, he doesn’t care about you or me or the problems and concerns of real Americans. He cares about one thing — empowering himself at any cost. Watch what he does, not what he says.

See earlier column:

Crime and
punishment