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Saturday, February 24, 2007

The Hard Hearted Hannah Award



The Hard Hearted Hannah Award goes to………..


A man, who we shall call Marc, sat down to dinner with his wife and two children, and after dinner, when the children had been put to bed his wife entered the living room where Marc was watching television and asked to speak with him without the distraction of the television. She said that the thing was she would like a divorce, and in the meantime she wanted him to pack up his things that night and move out of her house.

At one time in my working life I was supervised by Marc, a man who was as solid a family man as ever there was. He was a rock, a pillar of society. After our normal workday he would grab a quick bite to eat, then he would go to what he called, “the building site” where he worked mostly single-handed on building a home for his family. At certain times he needed volunteer labour, and all he had to do was ask the guys and we would give him the time. I personally got to know that house quite well.

The reason he was able to take his evening meal on this night with the family was that he had finally, substantially completed the house and could afford to live like a normal human being.

We make much of domestic violence, as I think we should, but I have always regarded this example as being one of the most violent episodes, and it didn’t involve anything physical.

Marc told his story over and over again to anyone he could nail down, always asking Why? How could she? He said that he was so stunned by her words, that what followed was something of a blur. He does remember her saying something about “you were never here” and to his question, “I thought you loved me,” she replied that she stopped loving him about five years ago. To another question “Is there someone else,” she simply answered “Yes!”

He couldn’t believe that having invested so much time and effort in building a house with his own hands, he was now being ordered out, and that the law would support her. His only sin was that he had cared for his family’s future. He said that he left the house rather than strike her dead, taking absolutely nothing with him, and he never went back. He also never did another day’s work in his life, instead becoming the town’s drunk and beggar.

All of us guys from his old crew vowed we would do our little bit to try and help him through his ordeal. He became so hopeless that even his attempts at suicide were pathetically ineffective. He was always in the drunk tank, and all he cared about was his next drink. He was always glad to see me because he knew he could always rely on me for a bit of cash, as was the case with a lot of people who knew about his situation and wanted to help. Sometimes, when I was a bit low on money I would take care to change my normal route to avoid him.

I have always reflected on this. Of course it’s a mistake to take sides when a couple split, but this seemed on the face of it to be especially harsh. How, indeed can someone be so hard hearted towards another person who was doing his best for his family? Where does the capacity come from, especially when it is not provoked, to be so evil? How does such a person justify their actions? How could he have so badly miscalculated her character?

He received an outpouring of sympathy from the community, and an equal amount of scorn and condemnation was heaped on the woman and her lover. The children were, of course caught in the middle.

For a long time I took the example of Marc as a cautionary tale. I viewed anyone new that I met with suspicion. Gradually I came to realise that this was simply the story of two people and need not have any bearing on anyone else’s relationship. It was such an extraordinary circumstance, and she was such a bitch, that she gave bitchy women everywhere a bad name.

The last time that I saw Marc was about eight years ago. He was still begging to exist. He tended to hang out with three other down and outs, two men and a woman. Sometimes I would see him after he had spent the night at the shelter for the homeless. Before he left for the day he had to have a bath and breakfast. At those times he would be fairly lucid. The two things he was most proud of were, (a) he never laid a hand on her; and (b) he never stole anything.

His life was turned upside down a little more than thirty years ago. I have just heard that he finally died an actual death, rather than the death-like existence that he had for so many years. So, to my friend Marc I say, “You had to shoulder much more than your share of the worst of what life can inflict on us. You were dealt a very lousy hand, but I am also proud of your self-control and management of your anger. We can all learn from you.
Now sleep, my friend, Rest In Peace!”
Copyright (c) 2007 -Eugene Carmichael