Rhett Hundridge

Discussion in 'Character Biographies' started by Anonymous, Feb 5, 2019.

  1. Anonymous

    Anonymous Guest

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    Biographical Information
    BornRhett Hundridge
    17 November 1950 (Age 56)
    Salt Lake City, Utah, USA
    ResidenceAstoria, Oregon, USA
    CitizenshipAmerican
    OccupationPriest
    Height6'3" (190.5cm)
    Weight181lbs (82kg)
    Blood TypeA-
    Spouse(s)Lorna Beckett
    (m. 1969; wid. 2003)
    Children1

    "Hello?"
    "Hey, dad. Ten minutes starts now; let's get this outta the way."
    "... It's-... it's good to hear you, son."
    "..."
    "How are you?"
    "Yeah, I'm fine."
    "That's good, that's good. Texas, huh? What is it, work, or...?"

    "Yeah."
    "That's great, yeah. Yeah, that's great."

    "Uh-huh."
    "Have you been back?"

    "Where?"
    "You know where."

    "Oh, yeah, sure. Didn't see you there; figures."
    "Didn't think people would want me there, is all."

    "Yeah, well, they don't. They didn't."
    "I was going to."

    "How the hell do you live with yourself?"
    "Don't-..."

    "No, seriously? How do you live with yourself?"
    "..."

    "Like, I get you're trying to make things right and all, with this, with the move -- but, face it. You won't. She's gone; and that's on you."
    "What do you want me to do, Lucas? What do you want me to say? That it should have been me?--..."

    "Yeah. It should have."
    "I know that. I have to live with that."

    "Yeah, well. Maybe you shouldn't. Fuck your ten minutes, dad, I'm done."
    "Son, wait--…"

    *Click*

    Way to go, old man. Way to go. How do you live with yourself?
    It was a bad night.

    A few drinks at Frankie's was how it started. Well under the limit. Enough to be jovial, and an average happy-go-lucky Joe. You liked the feeling. You didn't want it to end. The drive home left you losing the feeling. The happy-go-lucky feeling. It couldn't end. It was a bad night.

    A quick stop at a 24/7, and a couple of cheap bottles of whiskey. You had a few liberal swigs on the drive back as the streetlights passed overhead. You were right back there. The feeling was back. The feeling that dulled you to the fact that it was a bad night.

    Water into the pot, pasta into the pot. Let it boil. Another swig. A peppy song from days long gone. Another swig. You danced on your own, but it doesn't matter. You had that feeling. That feeling that takes you away from that bad night.

    You overcooked it again, old man. You wouldn't feed this to your dog. Another swig. Try again. Turn the music up. Another swig. Keep the feeling going. Don't let it end. Keep dancing. Another swig. You trip. You fall. It was a bad night.

    The bottle smashed as you hit the floor. You didn't let it go. You couldn't let it go. A stream of crimson gushes out. The feeling is going. You don't want it to end. You can't go to the ER. You know what they'll say. You know what they'll think. You have to do it yourself. Ease the pain; another swig. Into the bathroom, old man. You've done this before. Steady your hand; another swig. Tweezers in. Glass out. Needle out. Thread in. Steady your hand; another drink.

    It was a bad night.
    You talk about her a lot.

    You talk about her. You reference her. You tell off the cuff stories. You wish they were still true. You talk about her, and you smile and you laugh, but they aren't real. They're fake. Forced. Forced smiles and forced laughs from a broken man. You hope that if you smile wide enough, laugh loud enough, no one will ask.

    But, you know they will. You do, after all, talk about her a lot.

    You're a hero.

    It was a war that you had no business being in, but you did your part dutifully - to safeguard democracy, and freedom. That is what you were told, and that is what you believed. After all, the Red Menace had reared its ugly head, and so soon after Korea... It was an insult to your way of life, and that of your fellow man. You had to do your part; and you did. You're a hero.

    You weren't greeted with a fanfare, you weren't met with open arms, you weren't showered with flowers - as a stalwart barrier between that which was good and that which was bad. You were invisible. You didn't exist. But, it didn't matter - because, you knew why you were there. You knew what you were doing. You knew that you were a hero.

    You fought the enemy. You killed the enemy. In the thick of the jungle. In the rice fields. In towns and villages. In the vast tunnel systems. You fought the enemy. You killed the enemy. That is what you tell yourself; they were the enemy. You saw their faces, in the quiet after the storm. The horror, the fear, the anguish - the same you saw in the faces of your brothers in arms. They looked so much like you. Young. Scared. But, they were the enemy. And, you are a hero.

    You saw children, bound at the ankles and wrists, thrown from the tops of buildings. You saw women, covered in burns, ushered away from medics. You saw homes demolished, families destroyed - and all by you, and your fellow brothers in arms. You told yourself that the lines often blur in war, that the enemy was vicious, malicious and cunning. How could you be wrong? You are a hero.

    'You are a hero'. You continue to tell yourself that, when the world is quiet. You know. You know that there is zero truth to that, but maybe - just maybe, it's the only thing that helps you cope.

    You are a hero.
    Mr. Hundridge,

    This letter will confirm the decision made at a Church disciplinary council held in your behalf on December 4, 2006 that you are to be excommunicated from the United Church of Christ for heretical views and overindulgence on nigh innumerable occasions. You should know that if you wish to appeal this decision you may do so through the Associate General Minister B. Lutton.

    Whilst we are grateful for your honesty and openness at this meeting, your bluntness and disregard for the severity of this left much to be desired. We are saddened, of course, that recent events - as you claim - are the cause for your behavior.

    Excommunication is the most severe Church disciplinary action. A person who is excommunicated is no longer a member of the Church. As such, you will no longer have any privileges of Church membership. You may attend public Church meetings if your conduct is orderly, and we strongly encourage you to do so. However, in such meeetings you may not give a talk, offer a public prayer, partake of the sacrament, or participate in the sustaining of Church officers.

    We realize you are going through hardships in your life where you have chosen to find comfort elsewhere - and sincerely hope that you make the choice to correct your behavior, and take the steps necessary to have this excommunication lifted.

    Signed,

    Milton G. Pritchard
    General Minister and President

    Benjamin Lutton
    Associate General Minister

    Julia Waters
    Associate General Minister







































     
    #1 Anonymous, Feb 5, 2019
    Last edited by a moderator: Mar 2, 2019
  2. Anonymous

    Anonymous Guest

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