The Eight Sentences:

I looked forward to another treatment of the plight of the Indians in North America with the same lack of enthusiasm.

A factor that made this different was that my wife and I had combined our creative talents (mostly hers) to create a group she named, “The League of Old Men.” The title sounded familiar so I looked it up and found this book with a similar but not exactly the same title. Turned out to be a short story of only twenty-three pages. I read it aloud to her today.

London addressed a terrible loss of life amongst both Indian and the White man with a casual, unemotional review of the numbers and few specific incidents.Old Indian

At the same time, readers are drawn into the profoundly emotional story of the old man who created his own holocaust as he and his comrades delivered death to the invaders without remorse or prejudice.

In the end, the judge carries out his own duties as proscribed by law and his broken heart represents the conflicted emotions of the conquerors of the new world.


The Back Story:

The reference in the first sentence was to my disinterest in Schindler’s List when it first came out. I didn’t see it for several years after its theatrical run.

The “League of Old Men” came from the back of several chairs I’d purchased at a church garage sale. Bob took one look at the lettering, “L.O.O.M.” and thought up the name. Then I asked, “Who are they?” Then she told me.

[NOTE: I read her this story and wrote the above article about it on April 7. She died on April 27.]


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