The rabbi really laid It on the line. He pulled no punches, neither did he indulge in flights of fancy, nor did he fetch any cure-alls from his kit-bag.
The Rev. Herbert Hendel discusses juvenile delinquency with the voice of experience. For he was judge of youth court, In Bradford, Pa., for ten years which, presumably, were also the first years of his ministry.
Rabbi Hendel told the Men's Club of First Presbyterian Church that Judge Parker (of the comic page) seems to have all the answers to juvenile delinquency, though he himself does not. The thought he left with us was that a possible solution could rest in the happy medium, somewhere between parental pampering and parental autocracy, with no room anywhere along the line for parental neglect.
He cited the case of the youngster who found himself in serious difficulty because he crossed a state line with a stolen automobile. The excuse the boy gave was that, for the first time in his life, he had thought up something and then carried it out entirely on his own.
Here was rebelling against despotism on its benevolent side. The risk is there also, says the rabbi, in the event of too rigid discipline.
Personally, we favor discipline in the home, and furthermore we would rather be safe with rigid discipline than sorry because we were lax. Our first foray into the delinquent field was the day we cussed Jack Wyche with all the forbidden words we knew about. This was in 1905 or thereabouts. We were playing in the front yard when Mr.
Wyche passed our house on his way to work. He greeted us with his usual cheery, even affectionate greeting, quote:
"Good morning Brodie, and how Is my young friend today?"
Our response won't do to quote, for we called him all the mean, vulgar, and profane things we had heard and committed to memory. Jack remonstrated, saying we ought not to talk like that to one who was our friend, whereupon really outdid the first outburst. He walked away and we returned to our childish game, tiddly winks or whathaveyou, but not for long.
For here came Daddy on the double. Nor did he ask questions or seek motives or delve for psychological explanations. He led us into the house, unshipped his razor-strop from where it hung from a nail al the end of the mantel-place, and gave us the works. And we haven't cussed anyone since.
Nowadays we are led to believe that parents do not appreciate reports of their child's misconduct. But Daddy was always grateful to Jack Wyche for telling on us. If we had gotten by with it and gone unpunished, the idea might easily have been planted inside us that we were "tough". And the next breach of discipline would have been broader, and so on.
Yes, we believe that it is safer to err on the side of strictness.
Does Lennor Blum recall the conversation between two little boys, playing beneath her window of the old Blum home on Main Street (where Miss. Power & Light office stands today)?. Kenneth Haxton Jr. and John Young Jr. were talking about what they would be and do when they grew up. We don't remember Kenneth Jr.'s aspirations on that occasion, but Bud Young's are with us to this day, quote:
“I don't know about you,” drawled John Jr., "but when get big I'm going to smoke, and drink, and say 'dammit-to-hell' forty times a day!"
The inference here is that Bud, being a preacher's son, was brought up beneath too strict a discipline and aimed to kick over the traces when his time came.
That was a good many years ago. John may have been just as fed-up as he said he was with parental authority. But he became a Life Scout (thirty -badges) anyhow and, later on, A Scoutmaster.
Then he got to be a major in his Uncle Sam's army. And nowadays he's chairman of the board of deacons of the First Presbyterian Church.
Maybe the sight of a backsliding fellow deacon, such as Old Stuff, makes Bud Young want to cuss, but he hasn't let fly yet. However, he does smoke a pipe.
BC.
