The potters herald. [volume] (East Liverpool, Ohio) 1899-1982, 1941-11-13
Vanity And Greed
Are Dark, Strange,
PifiobIe Things
Man Should Rem ember
That He Owns Nothing
For Very Long


Los Angeles Daily News. 1t was writ
ten by Ted LIE Berthon who has
daily column entitled might and
Day."
Just week ago l acted as pail
bearer at a fellow newspaperman's
funeral. Before helping lift the heavy,
gray casket covered with vivid flow
ers into the hearse, l, like others, had
taken that traditional last look at his
face before the casket was sealed up.
The undertaken had done a good
job, because my friend seemed merely
asleep. Afterward, driving back to the
Daily News office in the rich, warm
ing sunlight, the sort Of thoughts
about him came to me that probably
have come to most human beings in
all the vanished centuries before they,
too, passed on.
l thought of his plans, his hopes,
his theories, his characteristics. He
was a fine looking fellow, compara-
lively young. And gee, suddenly, un-
expectedly, it was all over. And, you
know, fellow gets thoughts such as
"What's worth striving for, any
how?" A funeral has a habit of
poignantly awakening those who at
tend it. You see, next week it might
be me. Or you, reader. Yes, you.
Some strange thoughts hit me.
There are many thousands reading
the Daily News every day, and, calcu-
lating from the daily obituary notices,
several will die before another day.
You who are reading this now may
be dead in five minutes for all you
know Some unusual effort may still
your heart. You may be going to the
public market, and a car may sudden
ly bear down on you too fast. Or you
may go to sleep tonight and never
awaken.
remember a story that once broke
in an eastern newspaper. A promi-
nent business leader attended busi-
ness association meeting. At this
meeting, he made an address full of
rage at labor unions. He overlooked
the fact that the word association is
merely a synonym for union, and
that he represented union of busi-
nessmen. He vowed he would not
meet certain unions demands. No
one was going to tell him how to run
his business.
He finished. He was red with anger
as he sat down and his legs actually
trembled. Then he suddenly slumped
over the table. His head fell against
drinking glass, breaking it. He had
dropped dead.
And well, the business he spoke of,
whose had it become? Hadn't he said
no one was going to tell him how to
run '<his" business? But was that life
less lump of clay the owner Of busi
ness?
Human vanity and human greed
are dark, strange, pitiable things.
The man had a funeral, and was al
most Immediately afterward forgot
ten, and somehow the business went
on. Of course, if the man had lived
closely by Holy Writ, he would have
known that everything belongs to
God, and that he was steward only
for short time, and bound by divine
law to be concerned for the we'll be-
ing of all those he employed.
He should have known that man
owns nothing long, that "the Lord
giveth, and the Lord taketh away"
and taketh away suddenly, without
warning.
Suppose such a man, in the midst
of dispute with labor, should be in
formed that he had only few hours
to live, that some fatally swift fever
had seized upon him. Would not such
black news make most men much
kinder to their fellow human crea-
lures in those few remaining hours |:
Among the billions of us who
swarm the globe at any given mo-
ment there are many who regard
themselves as biologically superior
i. e., superior by breed or blood-to
Jews or Negroes or Mexicans or Jap
anese or Filipinos. Some Americans
belong to exclusive clubs which bar
some or all of these "lowlier" racial
groups, and then have the audacity to
talk about crushing Hitlerism, which
is precisely what these superior
ones" are practicing.
And they, too, are pitiable. In a
coffin they don't look superior to any
thing.
Then there are those other pathetic
ones who preach class hate, and the
destruction of capitalism and the
capitalist class through the solidarity
of the working class. But in a coffin
they look just the same as anyone
else. Death doesn't seem to draw any
class lines, but to be appallingly
democratic.
So one might well listen to the
tender, majestic democracy of Christ's
words, "A new commandment l give
you, that you love one another" The
rugged individualist businessman, the
racial snob, the class hater, all are
so pitiable, so pathetically comic.
When death, the democratic leveler
comes "in the twinkling of an eye,'
they don't look any different in a
coffin than those they either snub or
l.