Thursday, July 06, 2006

Kenneth Lay R.I.P.

I am absolutely incensed at Henry Allen of the Washington Post. Read this atrocious article from Mr. Allen about Ken Lay's death. This is one of the most mean-spirited diatribes that I've ever read. The man is dead and can't defend himself. I'm willing to bet Henry Allen was picked on as a kid, and the only way he could retaliate was by talking about the bullies behind their backs.

In the early 80's, one of my best friends from college married Ken Lay's daughter. The wedding was in Houston, and we had quite a time. This is the one (and only) time that I met Mr. Lay. We were invited to play golf at his country club, and, as I was in the wedding, I spent much of that week in the kitchen at the Lay's home. Mr. and Mrs. Lay were gracious hosts, and could not have been more down-to-earth, engaging, funny, and just plain tickled that their daughter was getting married and that so many would come to celebrate that happy occasion. I recall that I bought them a hedge trimmer as a gag wedding gift -- what do you get for the couple that has everything?

The rehearsal dinner was hosted at the Lay's home, and we enjoyed a gourmet dinner around the pool. I gave the first toast to the couple, and recall wading into the pool while doing so (I was a bit of a joker back then). The happy parents were enjoying themselves, beaming with pride, and were themselves enjoyable.

Now, I have not again seen the Lay's since that wedding, and my buddy was ultimately divorced from the daughter (he's passed away, now, as well. R.I.P. BOBBY). I accept the jury's decision in the case...I wasn't there, didn't hear the evidence, and they did.

What I will say is this: no deceased person (with the exception of mass murderers and child abusers) deserves the bile and pure hatred that is written into Mr. Allen's article. To state that Mr. Lay cheated the hangman is one thing (tasteless, to be sure). But to say that he deserved the potential abuse in prison that is described in this rag is beyond the pale. Good God, man, have you no manners? Your mother would slap you for the pure rudeness of your words. Heaven help you if Florence King ever got within arm's reach of you. If you had uttered them, your mouth would be washed out with soap. I'd supply the soap.

Let's recall that a wife and family have lost a father...and I witnessed what a kind, gentle, and loving man he was. For the sake of his family, let's say a prayer.

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