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Letter: The death of America

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 My America is dead. It died when the voices of the soulless were louder than the voices of the followers of Christ. When greed became the creed to live by. When the illiterate, unskilled and lawless came with grasping fingers.

 

 When children could no longer play outside unattended or walk to school unaccompanied or ride their bikes from one end of town to the other without a worrying fear. Once they played without supervision from dawn to dusk. There were few fat children in my America.

 

 My America died when children were warehoused and not raised by parents that taught them manners and respect for others, took them to Sunday school and taught them to be proud Americans.

 

 It died when people became afraid to express an opinion or voice a judgment when something was wrong, It died when we could no longer trust our government, business, our neighbors or many so-called professional people, no matter what their role.

 

 The America that was is no more and never will be again.

 

 When the nonbelievers can sue the United States Army for displaying the cross or using Christian prayer on base or in combat, or when many young people today think Joan of Arc was Noah’s wife, well, why wouldn’t God turn his face from us?

 

 Truth no longer has a voice here. Our children are raised without a faith and when the dark days come, and they surely will, they have no place to go for comfort, they will be without an anchor and afloat in a sea of despair.

 

 The opening lines of an old song remind me of the America that was. “I remember you. You’re the one that made my (our) dreams come true.” That America is no more. Our elected officials have destroyed us and few parents want the responsibility of properly raising their children.

 

 This experiment, called America, is no more.

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