I was a swing shift supervisor at a very, very busy Safeway Grocery Store. We had to count all the cashier drawers, balance out everything, and prepare the late-night bank deposit. Some nights were $60,000 cash, and even more checks. Our hands were dirty after counting all the cash, but I just didn’t think of it as money. At night, we would deposit it in one of those on-the-outside-wall of the bank . One night, as I opened up the slot, the previous person had not shoved their deposit all the way inside. I could have easily retrieved it and obtained my own reparations for all the Irish Catholic indentured slaves, but I did not.
I’d rather live with a conscience and sleep well at night, then be a soulless democRAT.
I worked at a gas station in the late 70’s while in high school. We dealt in a lot of cash. We would balance the books at the end of the night and put the cash in the floor safe. My boss, the owner trusted us because all of it was accounted for. Had I done differently, he would have fired me and my dad would have kicked my ass.
God bless you. I've had similar thoughts many times when I hear the whining about reparations. My Irish forebearers were laborers that helped build the Northeast corridor rail system and lived in near-poverty when old and crippled up. I'm part English, so I guess I'd have to write my Irish half a check.