Leitchfellow was legendary, at least in our simple household. I was to find out later that he had not earned as much respect as my dear parents attributed to him. They always were good at casting prominent people in the best possible light. At times I wish they had given me heavier doses of skepticism and gone a little lighter on the credulity. I digress.

Leitchfellow had attained a few positions of prestige. Of that fact there is very little doubt. However, as a youngster at the ripe old age of twenty, I was unaware of the criticisms and doubt surrounding his ethics. Warmed by his amicable demeanor and flattered by his attention, I willingly pledged my support and efforts in his various causes. One project led to another, and soon my own name and reputation were closely associated with his.

As time passed, my own life diverged from his and we worked less and less together. Working with other people of equal and even greater prestige in a variety of settings taught me a thing or two about ethical behavior. The realization that Leitchfellow's conduct was anything but sterling was gradual, almost unnoticeable. Only after having worked with him and then without him and then with him again was I able to fully appreciate the shabbiness of his character. Leitchfellow, simply put, was consumed with his own importance, a criticism he hurled time and time again at other people.

He was quite noble in some ways. Some of his kindnesses were, in fact, genuine. However, his constant suspicion that the motives of others were somehow impure, cast a dubious light on his own motivations. His vicious speculations concerning the morality of so many respected individuals somehow contaminated his own moral uprightness, leaving him in a very dark shade of gray.

Leitchfellow is old now. He is sick. I am sorry for him. His small, but notable kingdom is disintegrating around him. And like so many crumbling castles on the hillsides of some insignificant country, few people are even noticing. Some are even glad of it.

Until later, vigilant reader, hold the fort!

Comments:

Interesting! I remember a local politician when I was young who had his constituents convinced he was the best thing since peanut butter. He served upteen sessions in D.C. In reality, the old codger was as crooked as a poor man's cane; but he kept his voters in his bag pocket with carefully orchestrated favors.

Fact or fiction?

comment by elderjane on May 10, 2008 4:28 AM ()

The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. You might also notice the incredible lack of detail.

reply by jerms on May 10, 2008 8:07 AM ()