And

Fight For

Okey L. King

There are two endangered freedoms that I would like to think that I, as an American, would stand and die for. As a Christian, I am restricted to what Christ would do. These two endangered freedoms are: the right to own land and the right to bear arms.

In Europe, at the time our ancestors began coming to America, the common man could not own land. The nobility and the wealthy controlled all of the land. The poor man was a virtual slave to the landowner. Thomas Jefferson borrowed from John Locke when he wrote the Declaration of Independence. But, instead of writing about the “pursuit of happiness,” Locke wrote of the “right to own land.”

Perhaps the most pressing desire of our ancestors, that brought them to America, was the need to own their own land. Our German ancestors trekked from Southern Germany to the North Sea in order to board a ship to began a new life of farming their own land. The story of our English, Scots, Scots Irish, Dutch, Welsh, and French Huguenots tells of struggles that were often just as difficult.

I have to insert here that some of our ancestors did not come to America of their won free will. If you could not pay what you owed, you and your whole family was thrown into debtors prison until you paid that bill. That was often impossible. Most often, this prison was Whitehall Prison. When landowners in America needed someone to work their land, they often made a deal with a ship captain. This ship captain would sail to England, bargain with the local English authorities, and choose the number of people he need to bring back to America. Whole families found themselves on board a ship not even knowing where they were going. These indentured servants usually served seven years to obtain their freedoms. Some like my ancestor William Uriah Cottle escaped and fled to the frontier before their term expired. Often, these servants were awarded a piece of land when their service was ended. Some younger sons of a rich family, like my ancestor Francis King, attached themselves to a wealthy man in order to come to America.

For many of us living in West Virginia, some of our ancestors made the arduous trip across the Alleghenies. They fought the Shawnee for the land and many on both sides died. Some of our ancestors floated in flatboats down the Ohio River. While many waited until the Indians Wars were over, some faced the risk and came to what is now West Virginia despite dangers. The acquirement of the land, which we own now, by our ancestors, did not come cheap. It was often paid for in blood and always bought by hard labor.

Now our right to hold this land won by our ancestors is under attack by the government and by those want to take out land because they can. I have never liked the concept of public domain in which our land can be stolen and given for public use. Now the Supreme Could has ruled that the government can take land from one private American and give it to another private American. Somehow, this must be stopped! The only way that it can be stopped is for us who care to up and say “NO!!!” If there is a cause that would call for the risk of the shedding of blood, it is this one.

Hunting has always a way of life for my family and for that of my neighbors. Our ancestors in Europe were prevented from hunting and fishing by the wealthy that owned all of the land. The poor man did not have the right to kill even a rabbit to feed his family. He could be hanged for poaching. Hunting became, not only a way of life for our ancestors in America, but a necessity. It came hand in hand with the right to bear arms to protect themselves and their families. It is a right that has been passed down and protected by the blood of our heroes.

I experienced a strange thing while on duty in Europe in the very early 1960s. I was standing at the window of my barracks watching the huge Belgian hares on the lawn. I was homesick wishing that I had by rabbit dog so that we could go out and chase those hares. Suddenly I had what I can only describe as a vision. I actually saw a landing craft full of soldiers. I not only saw this craft, it was if I was in the craft myself. I could feel the cold salt spray. I was looking at a scared young boy in a combat helmet. He looked like a farm boy with freckles. I seem to feel what he was thinking. Just like me, he was wishing that he were home with his dog out on the hillside with his old shotgun. That vision didn’t last long, but it made a strong impression. Although I do not hunt anymore, I will stand up for the right to hunt. I will do everything I can do, within the rhelm of “Doing what Christ would do,” to see that these young men did not die in vain. Others beyond the borders of our hills do not understand…nor do they care. It is time for us, as West Virginians, to stand for liberty and the shed blood of our heroes.

God bless

Okey L. King