A real life story

[Guest guest]

A real life story

 

Many years ago, Al Capone virtually owned Chicago. Capone wasn't

famous for anything heroic. He was notorious for enmeshing the windy

city in everything from bootlegged booze and murder.

 

Capone had a lawyer nicknamed " Easy Eddie. " He was his lawyer for

a good reason. Eddie was very good! In fact, Eddie's skill at legal

maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time.

 

To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was

the money big, but also, Eddie got special dividends. For instance,

he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and

all of the conveniences of the day. The estate was so large that it

filled an entire Chicago City block.

 

Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago mob and gave little

consideration to the atrocity that went on around him. Eddie did

have one soft spot, however.

 

He had a son that he loved dearly. Eddie saw to it that his young

son had clothes, cars, and a good education. Nothing was withheld.

Price was no object. And, despite his involvement with organized

crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong. Eddie wanted

his son to be a better man than he was. Yet, with all his wealth and

influence, there were two things he couldn't give his son; he

couldn't pass on a good name or a good example.

 

One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Easy Eddie

wanted to rectify wrongs he had done. He decided he would go to the

authorities and tell the truth about Al Capone, clean up his

tarnished name, and offer his son some semblance of integrity. To do

this, he would have to testify against The Mob, and he knew that the

cost would be great.

 

So, he testified. Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a

blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street . But in his eyes, he

had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer, at the greatest

price he could ever pay. Police removed from his pockets a rosary, a

crucifix, a religious medallion, and a poem clipped from a magazine.

 

The poem read:

 

The clock of life is wound but once,

And no man has the power

To tell just when the hands will stop

At late or early hour.

Now is the only time you own.

Live, love, toil with a will.

Place no faith in time.

For the clock may soon be still.