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| Doctors mustn't be swayed by money By Sakuntala Perera In the case against Prof. Priyani Soysa, Justice Vigneswaran in his judgement said that the attitude of Prof. Priyani Soysa is one of over confidence in diagnosis and that she had failed to show reasonable skill and care. Prof.Soysa was alleged to have been negligent in her failing to attend to Suhani, who was admitted to Navaloka hospital on April 18,1992, with suspected Rheumatic Chorea under directions of Prof.Soysa. However it was alleged that the failure in carrying out two tests, an EEG and a skull X-Ray as ordered by Dr.J.B.Peiris, resulted in the delay in diagnosing the real cause of illness. Suhani died on June 19, 1992, of a brain tumor . It was further established that the delay in detecting the tumor on time resulted in the delay in attending to the cause of illness leading to death. Arrogance "By the time the patient was correctly diagnosed by another doctor it was too late. In my view a mis-diagnosis can be a non diagnosis. Though the child was in her care from April 18, 1992 to May 1992 she did not diagnose brain stem glioma because there were no signs. "I hold that a proper examination of the patient could have led to the discovery of the BSG and if treated properly, here or elsewhere, the life of Suhani could have been saved, or atleast prolonged." It was only three weeks back that a case was reported where the right hand of a young child was amputated at the Lady Ridgeway hospital, Colombo reportedly at due to negligence and mis-diagnosis after the child was admitted for common viral flu! There was also a similar case of alleged negligence claiming the life of a new born infant within hours after birth, in a private hospital in Negombo. This is yet another tragic example of the now common greed for money and the payment of bills for "services" overtaking the value of human lives which the medical profession is expected to help save. Greed The President of the Government Medical Officer’s Association, Dr.Ananda Samara-sekera, speaking to "The island" admitted however that negligence in the health sector does take place. "This is the first of such cases in the recent past, but if this trend continues and people take doctors to court in this manner there will also be a reaction from the medical profession. In any profession negligence takes place under certain circumstances. Thousands of children are cured in hospitals but just one incident like this is highlighted. It is wrong to take Prof. Priyani Soysa’s case as an isolated one and judge it we must look at the general picture. Unlike in other countries, doctors in Sri Lanka work work under trying conditions. There is such a lack of facilities, not only of sophisticated equipment etc. but also of simple medicines and basic facilities. Unless these facilities are provided we are unable to provide a satisfactory service to the people. What if the doctors take up this attitude and refuse to work under such conditions? Then it is again the public at large that will be inconvenienced. Balance He further added that if doctors are sued in this manner it would not to be to the patients benefit. "It is important for the public to understand the plight of the doctors, otherwise this will very soon lead to very serious repercussions. We admit that the situation is bad within the whole medical health sector. Look at the private hospitals today, I don’t think there is a single registered paramedic in these hospitals. "But due to political interference no action takes place."he added. The President of the International Bar Association, Desmond Fernando, agrees that a precedence where doctors are sued for negligence is not at all a healthy situation in the country. "I do not accept this judgement as fair, as negligence is difficult to prove. And I don’t believe that such judgement will make a change in the health sector. Negligence is rare in Sri Lanka as compared to other countries. I would not encourage people towards such actions against doctors. Unnecessary "This would be a dangerous trend if it sets in Sri Lanka as well and won't be encouraging to the health situation at all. It is setting the wrong precedenct."he added. However President of the Sri Lanka Bar Association and counsel for the plaintiff, Romesh de Silva, speaking to "The Island" stated that such a judgement would make all professionals not only the medical to take note of. "The people should have a right to demand that their rights to care is established. Such a judgement would asure that the professionals are made aware of such needs and rights. People have their rights but are not sure about their implementation, so I think that this case has proved to them that there is room within the legal structure to see that they are implemented. "This kind of cases will have a very salutary effect at some point."he added. Meanwhile the Chairman of the Parliamentary Lobby for the Protection of Children and UNP MP, Dr.Jayalath Jayawar-dena speaking to "The Island" stated that in view of the present situation of an increasing incidence of professional negligence in the medical profession it was important that a new National Policy on Health be implemented to bring about stringent regulatory measures. Standards "I admit that medical misadventures take place within the medical profession but it is not the fault of the doctor always. I agree that it is a healthy situation for patients to bring such negligence to the Courts."he added. However when legislation was proposed to be introduced here by the former Minister of health and Social Services, A.H.M.Fowzie last year, there were protests from the medical health profession. The Minister proposed to restrict the number of patients a doctor could see per session, and to get doctors to mark attendance registers to ensure they worked eight hours a day. He also hoped to contrad the consultation fees and other charges by doctors in private practice levy from patients. Minister Fowzie told "The Sunday Island" that the proposed legislation is already delayed by an year and unless the present Minister of Health takes it up from there it will remain just a piece of paper. "Later we have seen an increase in negligence by the doctors leading to even deaths of patients. But nothing is being done to curb this situation. We need a proper legal frame-work to regulate the sector and monitor the functions especially in private hospitals. Without one we will never see the rights of the patients being safeguarded."he added. Colombo District Judge Mahanama Tilakaratne in his judgement. |
People
& Events by
Nan Service
With Sincerity The stewards are very well built and look fine in their red jackets. It is suprising to see how tall and well set they are, Sri Lankans generally being rather puny. The girls are lovely, mostly in their manner, and that is pleasing because when one travels one requires more the care giver and an easy ability to call for service than what pleases the eye. A sincere smile in true eastern fashion and a glimmer of modesty is what they project. Will these change under Emirates management? Pray not, unless of course it is for the better. Contrasts are evident, reflecting cultural backgrounds. The UL cabin crew talk quietly among themselves, move at a slower pace - the girls, I mean - and are not averse to chatting with a known person on board for extra long. Not so a western airline. More burly men trundle the trolleys of drinks and food and they are loud in their banter and smile all the time, often laughing too. Give me the quieter stewards any time! So we hope that Emirates does not change the image nor manner of our national carrier workers. Everything
is so BIG Much love and togetherness are also evident. Couples stroll arm in arm, the young and sprightly and old and heavy. Husbands devotedly wheelchair their wives around while families seem to be large with three to four children. People however are generally fat and some grossly obese. The US department of health has warned that obesity is a serious problem and on the increase. Women seem to be the fatter and it looks as if for every ten persons three are overweight. Pity their hearts and legs as they move around in bulgyshorts and bouncy Tshirts. Washington Washington Monument, a marble obelisk, rises 555 feet in a large lusciously green area of land dotted with trees and twin rectangular reflecting pools more than 2000 feet in length. Bathed in soft light with a couple of small red lights right at the top on its pyramidal summit, it quite takes your breath away. The Lincoln Memorial arouses special emotions of wonder, respect, sadness too. The stately marble structure with two steep flights of steps leading up was desingned by Henry Bacon. The collosal seated statue of Abe Lincoln is surounded by 36 columns, one for each of the states in existence during his presidency. Everyone is familiar with this seated statue having seen it in pictures, but seeing it in reality is an experience. The greatness of the man comes across the cold marble and awes you. The Thomas Jefferson Memorial, a large circular dome supported by Ionic columns, contains a bronze much-larger-than-life statue of Jefferson, with lights cleverly casting an orange glow on one shoulder. In comparison to the seated Lincoln statue this leaves one unemotional, albeit impressed. More impressive is the large writing on the walls of the building, reminding people of what Jefferson said. Unexpectedly one gets tears in one's eyes as one gazes at the eternal flame and the burial plaques on the tombs of J F Kennedy, Jacqueline and their two dead children. One is prepared for the solemnity of the place and reminded of the sanctity with notices to be quiet. Unnecessary, since it just happens that one becomes quiet and deeply respectful. One is deeply moved even though one is so removed from America and its great men. Them
and Us Another contrast was, of course, the lack of obvious security. You could walk right longside the White House premises wall and look across to the Rose Garden. The only obvious concession to the long-distance security of the most powerful man on earth was the closing of that section of Pennsylvania Avenue to traffic. Road blocks and scrutiny are what we are subjected to at every turn. The Galle Road past Temple Trees looks so like a heavily guarded battleground. Inevitable due to the bombs, unavoidable and necessary, but how very sad. When will we be able to breathe free and go about unchecked. The L
of C much more in all types of media. It contains the papers of 23 US presidents. It is a complex of three buildings. Founded in 1800 to serve the information needs of Congressmen, it was burned during the Civil War in 1812 and was rebuilt with Jefferson's library of 6000 volumes, which formed the core of the new collection. This was augmented by publications received through the legal deposit scheme and the extensive buying of material from all over the world. Make no mistake, Jefferson sold his collection not donated it, "needing money for his grandios schemes even in retirement." The library building is extremely ornate with columns, friezes, ceiling paintings and floor patterns. The balustrades of the stairs from the ground to the first floor are extremely interesting. Small childlike figures adorn them and when explained, one sees they are meant to depict the professionsranging from writing to fishing. Oh me! Oh my! What wonders! |
| Enforcing the law against foreign paedophiles Two recent convictions 'one in Switzerland and the other in the Netherlands of paedophiles who had sexually abused/trafficked explored children in Sri Lanka call for examination of the choices open to law enforcement agencies in prosecuting foreigners. The two men were sentenced to six year terms. The exercise of extra territorial jurisdiction by foreign countries over their nationals who commit offences abroad has become more widespread following the example of the Nordic block, Switzerland and Australia Great Britain until quite recently was somewhat sceptical about this method (a scepticism based more, I suspect, on financial grounds than on objective reasoning). Conservative government spokesmen expressed doubts about the particularity of obtaining the evidence such as proof of age, recording witness statements, (language differences), and overcoming systems differences. Unfounded Extradition was always an easier option but most European countries such as Belgium, France, Switzerland and Germany will not extradite their nationals to stand trial in another country. The prosecution of a fugitive offender must therefore be done under extra territorial jurisdiction. However, should the act complained of not be an offence in his home country as we, there will be no prosecution. This requirement of double criminality is an unfortunate obstacle that must be cleared by multi-party treaties or national legislation. Fortunately in the Swiss and Dutch cases this requirement was fulfilled and the men were, by coincidence, sentenced to six years' imprisonment each. The effectiveness of proceeding extra territorially depends on the quality of the cooperation extended by the local Agencies, especially the Police, to the foreign investigating agency. There are also legal issues such as the need for a formal complaint, admissibility of certain types of evidence, identity of the victim, the burden of proof and the integrity of documents needed to prove age of the child. It is worth mentioning, in this context, that both the Swiss and the Dutch cases were models of cooperation between the Sri Lankan agencies and the teams of prosecutors who came form Switzerland and the Netherlands respectively. The exercise of extra territorial jurisdiction entails application of the system of law of the offender countries to a transaction that occurred, say, in Sri Lanka. Unlike in Sri Lanka where the English Common Law adversarial system is in force the Civil Law or inquisitorial process that obtains in most European countries avoids the long drawn out and fortunes displays of forensic banality that needlessly encumber our process of justice. Criticism Here in Sri Lanka where the government is actively pursuing a programme of reform, the process of justice is still far from child sensitive. Even the recent amendments to the Criminal Procedure Code and the Judicature Act do not go far enough. Sri Lanka was one of the first countries to ratify the UN convention on the Rights of the Child. Despite elaborate review and recommendations of successive governmental Committees on Law Reform this country has not come close to setting up the structures that will assist progress in the direction that the Convention requires. The procedural reforms so far effected fall far short of what can be done cheaply and effectively by administrative changes. There seems to be an entrenched element in the administration that obliquely resists change.
The primary responsibility in such situations must be that of the government of the country in which the child is abused or exploited, and extra territorial jurisdiction invoked only when the suspect absconds or jumps bail. This complementary is sadly lacking as of today. A review of reported child – sex case confirms the widely held view of our system that at present, the investigation of complaints is slow and inefficient involves tedious and vexatious delays, permits intimidation or corruption of witnesses and requires close monitoring by NGOs to keep the momentum going. Prosecutions often fail or meander aimlessly. The offender has a good chance of absconding, securing acquittal on technical grounds or obtaining a lenient sentence more by default rather than any brilliance on the part of the defence. Complacency Returning now to the success stories. Though the investigations, documentation and the pretrial process in the Netherlands and Switzerland were time consuming and costly, the trials themselves were devoid of the drama that characterises the British process. The best feature was that the need for attendance of witness was alienated. The trial was over in one day! Another and more high profile case is coming up in Zurich this month. The writer is aware that not only has all the available evidence been handed over to the defence well in advance but the accused has been held in remand jail for over 14 months. Swiss law will impose (should a finding of guilt be made) the lesser of the punishments between the two legal systems, but there are aspects to the procedure under Swiss law that compensate for the stringency of the evidently and procedural requirements of Sri Lankan law. Thus making the prosecutor's stask less difficult. Mr. Arun Tampoe is Legal Advisor/P.E.A.C.E. (Protecting Environment and Children Everywhere). He is also a member of the Presidential Task Force for the Protection of Children. |
| Fun and frolic in Spain By Capt. Elmo Jayawardena
I read Michener's "Drifters" in my teens and was totally fascinated by the story of Pamplona and the feast of San Fermin. That was a long time ago, a time when I had holes big enough for buffalos in my pockets, and couldn't raise the bus fare to reach the Regal for an occasional Bardot movie. Yet the thought was there, solidified and crystallized in my mind, that one day I will make my way to Spain an be part of the "Fiesta de Los Toros," perhaps the greatest show on earth, or as "Papa" Hemingway put it, the greatest carnival, which paled anything you've ever seen, or will ever see again. Before I jump the gun and start the story, let me tell you what this is all about. Pamplona is in the province of Navarre, the land of the Vascone Basques. It extends from the Northern part of Spain across the Pyrenees to the South of France. This is old country, beautiful and blunt, just like the ancient proud people it shelters. They say that "Basque was Basque, before God was God." That's how the Vascones feel about heredity. In defiance to Spanish and French, they speak a language of their own called "Euskera." The Basque are great Baccus worshipers, drink like crazy, eat well, and make merry of the life that God had gifted them. Tradition and bravery, run in every vein, the "Macho Bacho" type. Men are supposed to be men, and are honour bound to behave like men. Basque country is the birth place of bull fighting. "Corrida de Toros" they call it, running of the bulls. That's how it all started. No fancy capote or muleta, no banderilleros, picador nor matador, simply angry bulls let loose on the town plaza, charging at anything moving, and young Basque men running to avoid the horns whilst their senoritas cheered, and threw flowers from the balconies. As for the festival, Bishop Fermin was a son of Pampalona. He was accused and beheaded for charges on which he was totally innocent. The martyred clergyman was canonized and became the favourite patron of the people of Navarre. Once, a plague threatened the very existence of the province, spreading death like wild fire, and people prayed to their favourite saint. Their prayers were answered, Pamplona and the province of Navarre was saved. In remembrance of their deliverance, the grateful Pamplonians made a fiesta in honour of San Fermin that went into annual celebration. For more than a 400 years, beginning from the eve of the sixth of July till the midnight of the fourteenth, it is "Fiesta de San Fermin," in the city of Pamplona, the greatest Mardi Gras on earth. .Pamplona That's enough background, let's get the story on the road. It is perfectly right to say that during the carnival, Pamplona never sleeps. Bars and restaurants open twenty four hours, rotating their waiters, the music and dancing goes around the clock, so is the fun and frolic. Only the people get substituted. Wave after wave, they come, walking about and seeking the thrills, drenching in the euphoria and breathing pure excitement. I drove in to Pamplona from the South, on the fourth day of the festival from the little town of Auseio, a hundred kilometers away. I picked a possible lull time, mid-day, if you can call it a lull. Blazing sun, hotter than hell, the fiesta was on full swing. Two in the afternoon, people were everywhere. Almost all were dressed in white, sporting cherry red bandanas with matching waist bands, the age old uniform of the San Fermin celebrant. Everybody was laughing and walking about in a mood of exhilaration. There was music in the air, coming from bands playing in the many town plazas, mega stereo sounds blasting from open bar windows, and on the streets walked the "fanfares," the "Mariachis" of Spain, loudly blowing their golden trumpets to the boom-boom of "Tambores Grande" the huge drums that spread the perfect beat. Where ever the music was, people danced, and this was two in the afternoon, supposedly lull time...some lull. Forget about getting hotels, Blessed Joe would have found it easier in Bethlehem. I was lucky, I had booked three months ahead, a pensione cost super Sheraton price. That's how popular the event is. Most used the many parks, no problem, sleep was the last thing that was in the menu. I settled near Plaza San Nicholas, changed and ventured out to take my taste of Pamplona. The daylight hours catered for the family. Mamas and papas walked with sons and daughters, led or followed by grand mommies and grand daddies. In the many narrow streets, entertainers were sprinkled. Clowns and jugglers, fancy dressed balloonmen and ice cream sellers with their cheeks painted blue and noses red dishing out cones filled and dripping with strawberry and chocolate. Children scattered everywhere, cutely dressed in red and white, holding hands with the elders, taking the sights as only the innocent know how. The mimetical human statue men were the best. Long John Silvers to Greek Gods, cupids and clowns, an angel here, a devil there, stone firm figures standing absolutely still and moving to thrill the kids, gleeing their faces and glazing their eyes, sending the moppets to hilarious laughter. On the street corners stood the one man bands, guitars strumming the best of Dillon and voices chanting Marley and Lenon, the open hats on the pavement brimming with coins, a genuine measure of succor and appreciation from the passing multitudes. Six thirty sharp, the fights began. They were all there, "El Cordobes" led the parade. There was Manolete, Ortega Cano, Jesulin de Ubrique, Cano and Apricio, "The greatest fighters in the maddest bull ring," that's what they called it. The bulls charged, the fighters danced, and the "oles" came, revibrating the stands and spilling over the stadium, exciting the crowds outside. To the Basque, this was life, the cruelty was accepted, the most skilled of their fighters have been killed by bulls. This was age old tradition, the best of it's kind. Perhaps, maybe beyond the understanding of the stranger and the outsider. By nine the bull fights were over and the packed stadium emptied to the already crowded streets. It was time to dance. Every street corner had some sort of music and there were pockets of merrymakers dancing all over the side walks. In the town square, there was folk music where Basque girls and boys danced the "Fandango" and the "Arin-Arin" much to the delight of the older clan who clapped at every pause in apprized delight. The many parks littered with bands catering to differed age and different mood. Hard Rock for the young, found them gyrating and screaming. A sober sort of music dished out by accordion and violin found the Grand Daddies waltzing with the Grand Mommies, "tipping the light fantastic toe, dancing as they never danced before." The band played down memory lane, picking on melodies, almost forgotten, giving reminisces of the bygone years. The zenith of the music was a Calypso band, colourful and loud, playing every night at the Plaza San Fransisco. The crowd went wild dancing the Samba and the Rumba and Lambading their way to electrifying versions of the likes of Guantanamera, La Bamba and Guadalajara. It was haunting too, specially when the music mellowed and switched to breath holding versions of Guantanamera, Celito Lindo and La Paloma and the Spanish recitations of the best of Belafonte. Close to midnight the fireworks came. The night sky, a covelet of ebony, transformed to a cloak in greens and reds, pastel blues and talcum pinks, and laced with veils of indigo and vermillion. The spectrum changing shape and light as the giant Roman candles shot to the heavens and loudly exploded, creating a kaleidoscope of luminous colours, sending the crowd to "Oooohs" and "Ahhhaas" in astraled admiration. The night sped on, long and loud, and the bars filled and slopped to the streets. The restaurants went on over drive, feeding the best of Basque cuisine. Cod al ajoarriero, lamb and salmon, trout fried with pieces of pork, baked eggs a laroncalesa, partridge with chocolate, asparagus and artichokes and many more, all to be washed down with Txakoli, the renowned "wino blanco" of Navarre. There was enough and more, to make your gold card go pale, if such was your ambition. Lesser mortals too, had their choice, menus for the "shoe string" league. Sausages, sandwiches and tortilla espana, the Spanish omelettes and wine by the glass, all going for price of Colonel Sanders and Macdonald class. As the Eastern sky began to shade in pale announcing another day, the revellers made their way to the avenue de Santo Domingo for the "correr el enceiro." The buls who fight in the evening would be let off and they would run along Santo Domingo to Passeo Hemingway, a distance approximating three quarters of a mile. Crowds lined the streets, safe behind wooden barricades and the runners got ready on the cobbled stoned road, with rolled up news papers in hand, to touch the bull whilst running. That was the supreme test of courage. At seven thirty, a cannon boomed, followed by another. The first, announced the gates being open, the second, that the bulls were on their way. The runners stood ground, nervous and tense, the crowd strained necks and stared, waiting to catch the first glimpse of the dashing bulls. In a matter of seconds the bulls came charging down the narrow crowded road, heads low, tails high, confused and angry, knocking down everything and anything that stood in their path. The runners ran, scrambling for space in a melee of madness, some falling, some rolling, and some crawling to the barricades for safety, all coming dangerously close to hoof and horn. In a flash the bulls were gone, the fallen picked themselves up, smilling counter-feitedly, hiding terrified thoughts of passed moments. The cheering receded as the bulls reached the stadium. Yet another bull run in Pampalona was over, it was time for both runner and spectator to gather in bars and talk of the "encierro." Who fell, who ran, and who came very close to getting gored, all whilst washing the dust down with wine and beer. The day began again, rotating into the same pattern of events as the days gone by. The night revellers found their rest giving way to the new waves of celebrants who danced in to take their turn. Pamplona never slept. By afternoon, I made my way out, heading North through the Bastan valley tot he Atlantic coast and San Sebastian. It was a delightful drive, through mountain sides filled with tall pines and a breeze that was a remnant of the winds that blew from the circling mountains. The day was beautiful, shining bright, canopied by an azure sky. My heart was still in Pamplona, with the thunder of hoofs and the sound of trumpets and the many manifestations of the exalting excitements of "Feista de San Fermin." Hemingway was right, it most certainly paled anything I've ever seen before, and perhaps anything I'll ever see again. I drove on, silently saying Good-bye to Pamplona and the feast of San Fermin. No that's not quite right, that's not what I said, I whispered "Bihar-Arte," which was more close to the truth. In the language of the Basque, it meant..."see you again." The writer is a pilot for Singapore Airline |
Appreciation by
Gamini Seneviratne Tinker died clothed in the dignity with which he was long accustomed to conduct the business of living. In what proved to be a last communication from his hospital bed, he states quite simply that 'My death is a matter of indifference to me and to others too, as I have noticed. (People) shroud themselves in all kinds of masks but truth must out. Truth always outs.' He saw himself in those last hours as 'the scion of a decayed family tree' who 'must keep mum'. There are lots more stories about Tinker than would exist among people of his generation and social background. He was totally honest, especially in his instinctive disregard for the conventions that attend the protection of personal hurts, including the wounds his actions inflicted on others. He showed great fortitude in accepting responsibility for the social and personal dislocations that followed. Tinker was, by choice, a writer, and he viewed writing as his life's work. His output was not copious, unlike that of prolix performers for whom a 'market demand' has been created much as for 'coca-cola', 'ethnic studies' or 'meat balls'. He used his own experience, and not other people's works or funding, to write his stories and to publish them. Inadequately crafted though they often were, his Sinhala saha ingreesi katha prabandha and Stray Birds offer perceptive accounts of the vanities and hypocrisies of this world. His story of a local dignitary's funeral - the show had to be the biggest ever seen, everybody who was anybody informed, the news repeatadly sent out via the radio, and poor relatives kept in their place - contrasts sharply with his own going: besides immediate family, people of the area joined the procession which was led by 'Bata', an old man who limped ahead in a pair of rubber slippers, thongs hanging loose, with his hand on the bonnet of the hearse, single pall-bearer, who had also had his grief written up on a small banner by a neater hand than his and nailed to the wall by the main door. Tinker, whose only formal occupation was as a volunteer in the army, in which he believed that family connections prevented his advancement, would also have noted the irony of being accorded a military funeral through the intercession of a member of his family. His desire to write returned in what was to be the last year of his life. 'The Innocent' is the title of a story that should be published for the serene joy and emotion of our middle-class literati. Tinker himself was indeed an innocent caught in the toils of a rapacious society which had forsaken any sense of personal dignity while strenuously maintaining a mimicry of respectability and rationalising greed. He was anxious to have his more recent writings published, and had sat himself down to the task of editing them and raising money to publish them. He used his typewriter whenever it was in working order; in his last letter he said that he's had to relearn the use of pen on paper. 'Writing letters', as he put it, 'is good practice for bigger things'. I may add that 'They were not to be', as I am aware that he had begun to restructure his perception of his own life in more joyous terms. That flurry of letters is marked not by despair but awareness that time would run out, and buoyed by the immediate expectation of roaming the south-eastern dry zone with only the minimal sustenance provided by fresh air, water, country hospitality and sleep. He had written to his long-time friend, Charlie Ponnadurai, about that projected escape from the slumbers attendant on retirement: he was not around to read Charlie's encouraging response. As the 21 gun salute ended and his coffin was lowered into the earth, a light rain fell, like a benediction, and gathering in strength drenched everybody, cleansing us, perhaps, of the many ghosts that he might have left behind to surface in our slumbers. Tinker is indeed 'mum' now, but who among his relatives, friends, and associates, deserved such an absolution as that downpour seemed to give, those present there would need to examine for themselves. As for others, they're probably too busy anyway. |
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