Harry Pascal, Portait of a Politician-In-Waiting Part 1

On the afternoon of our son’s wedding, in the lush fields that overlooked the bayous of southern Louisiana, a horse and buggy rumbled in the distance, quivering like an ant that grew larger as it crossed the horizon line and fell into our field of vision as hoofs and snarls of horses fastly approached.

It was the 7th of July and the heat was intolerable. We came in on Flagler’s line from Connecticut to see our Harry marry a Creole woman. Not to our utmost approval, we nevertheless found contentment in seeing him happy, our northern policies being slightly more tolerant than those held by our southern brethren.

He founded a school in the midst of the swamp, one that would provide rigorous instructions for colored children. Harry had received all of the charitable traits we had bestowed upon him, using the profits of his successful door stop manufacturing company to start this little endeavor.

We all secretly knew that Harry was perusing a career in politics and aware of the racial significance this move had. Adelaide was smart and had been trained adequately by slave hands that knew how to read but would ultimately serve as a symbol of Harry’s tolerance, an act that would make him famous as the first White landowner to marry a colored girl, the marriage having been born into the public eye. He had contacted numerous publishers to ensure that plenty of press would be on hand to view and praise for this ultimate act of charity.

The silhouette of the bowler hat that gradually came into view belonged to Harry, and his dismounting in full view of the reporters with Adelaide at his side was presidential in its premeditated candor.