Christopher Enslaved
for Life at the Age of 22

By: Randall Austin
(© 2011 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1

The most horrible day I ever lived through was the day my lifelong friend Christopher Worthington was enslaved for life at the age of 22, just 4 months before he and I were to graduate together from SDSU with our bachelors in chemistry.

 

On the evening of April 3, 2010, my dad told me to cancel my plans for the next day because he and I had something very important to do. When I asked him what was up he said he could not tell me, and that I would simply have to wait until tomorrow in order to find out.

 

The next morning over breakfast, Dad told me what was up. I reacted with stunned disbelief to what he told me. And because of what I was to eventually witness on that day, a strange trance-like numbness stayed with me for several months, and even now on thinking of the events I revert into a haze, unable to believe that it really happened.

 

Christopher Worthington and I were friends since the age of 6, when we became neighbors. Our parents supported our friendship, though they themselves never became especially close with each other. Mr. Worthington was a successful businessman who stayed pretty much to himself, but he cared very much about appearances. Not only about how he and his family appeared in men's eyes, but how he appeared financially in the eyes of others.

 

Indeed, Christopher was always neatly dressed, even at casual sporting events. His hair was always neatly combed, and his manners were impeccable. He and I grew up together and shared everything. We even decided, after much uncertainty, to drop our first choices for colleges, so we could attend San Diego State University together. And we had a great time in college. They were our happiest times together yet, even after the many years of good times we had shared. We were best friends for life. Or so we thought.

 

Dad told me that Mr. Worthington had contacted him only three days ago with news of his plan, and he was to keep it under wraps. He told my dad that he was letting him in on his plans because he knew that Christopher and I were lifelong friends, and he wanted me to be present when he announced his decision to Christopher so that I could offer him some support throughout the day, and help him get through the ordeal.

 

Mr. Worthington had fallen on hard times. He was in danger of losing the family business. Under California law children over the age of 18 who have not served in the armed forces or State National Guard before the age of 26 are subject to what are known as "lex talionis" restrictions, which means that they still do not have full rights as adults, though they are no longer considered minors.

 

Thus, parents still have the legal authority to enslave for profit a free born child if they can prove both that they no longer have the means to care for the child, and that the child fails to meet at least three of the "lex talionis" requirements. In Christopher's case he had a bum misdemeanor rap on his civil record for shoplifting, he had no record of civic volunteer duty, and he had more than three traffic violations. Therefore Christopher, on his father's order, was sold into slavery.

 

I was stunned. Dad tried to reassure me, saying that there was nothing we could do to prevent it, but that I could help in some small way by being at Christopher's side throughout the day he was to be enslaved and processed. If I would be at his house, when his dad announced that his life, as he knew it, was over; if I would accompany him to the slave processing center and wait for him; and afterwards if I would accompany him when he was delivered to Arthur Baldwin, who bought him and at whose estate he was to serve; if I would do these things for Christopher, then I would be doing all that I possibly could do.

 

When I heard the name of Arthur Baldwin, the bleakness that had possessed me suddenly turned to hopelessness. Arthur Baldwin owned Baldwin/Fletcher Enterprises and its chief concern was the Fletcher Farm and Canneries. Baldwin ran the cannery and farms almost entirely on slave labor, and the overseers of the slave teams were Baldwin's two sons, Arnold and Retcher. If Arthur Baldwin had a reputation as a cold-hearted businessman, his sons had the reputation throughout the valley as vicious sadists who delighted in punishing and humiliating their slaves. They were young, probably only about six or seven years older than Christopher and I, but they had reputations that far surpassed their years.

 

I remember how Christopher and I used to share stories we had heard about the Baldwin sons. And just two months ago we had seen them in town, each with a slave on a leash dressed in clown outfits, wearing large dunce caps and sandwich boards proclaiming "I was caught idling" on the front side, and "Please spit on me" on the back. Christopher called out to them, on that occasion, saying that they were filthy slavers who deserved to rot in hell. I still remember Retcher looking back and seeing us, and saying, "Oh, it's cute-ass Worthington. Man, how I'd love to have that pony pulling my cart!"

 

I cried, and told my dad it was injustice. He tried to comfort me. And as he embraced me I thought of all the times I had seen Mr. Worthington embrace Christopher.

To be continued...

 

Posted: 03/18/11