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This story originally appeared July 13, 2003

By HERB BENHAM, Californian columnist
e-mail: hbenham@bakersfield.com | Thursday, Feb 15 2007 3:11 PM

Last Updated: Thursday, Feb 15 2007 3:10 PM

It is almost with pride that people speak of the line of TV trucks and radio antennas strung out in front of the police station on Truxtun.

We like to be noticed and when CNN, Fox News and "Good Morning America," show up, they bring with them a peculiar kind of validation.

The drawback is is that once again attention is being paid because something bad happened. A crime was committed. People were killed. Some of those people were children.

These are not exactly the kinds of tourist dollars the Chamber can list in their promotional brochures -- great place to come to if you're covering a murder.

Thus, we find ourselves with mixed feelings. We like the attention, but we wish it had something to do with good neighborhoods, solid schools and our welcoming demeanor.

***

Don't convict Vincent Brothers before all the evidence is in is the consensus of the calls and the e-mails I have been receiving. The problem with convicting Brothers of the murders before the opening day of the trial, is that once brushed with the guilty tag, it's a long way back to respectability. You might as well move out of town.

It's like being accused of being a child molester. Even if you're innocent, you're still guilty. The doubt lingers and casts a shadow.

* * *

No shadows in the story about Ruth Paulden Raney.

Raney traveled to Poille-Sur-Vegre, a small town in France, over July Fourth to make a speech and take part in a celebration honoring her brother and nine of his flight mates who were shot down July 4, 1943.

Nine died, including Raney's brother, 2nd Lt. Lawrence Wayne Myer. In 1947, the village put up a plaque that read, "To the memory of the American aviators who fell to their deaths and died July 4th for the liberation of France."

The New York Times picked up on the story. It's one thing to be written up in the local paper, but when The New York Times does an article on you, you're this close to a movie deal and a line of your own soaps.

* * *

From Shafter, one of my favorite places in the world, a note from Dolly Hei who is, among other things, a champion pomegranate jelly maker. She responded to the article in The Californian about the aforementioned Ruth Paulden Raney, the Delano girl who lost her brother when she was 13.

"When I was 12, my eldest brother was killed just weeks before WWII was over. He was only 18, a gentle, sweet young man who just wanted to study math and chemistry but was a dutiful citizen and joined the Army. A few months of basic training and he was sent around the world to die from a Japanese sniper's bullet in a Philippine jungle. That was on June 12, 1945.

"On July 5 my family received the telegram telling us of his death, delivered by a fellow in a taxi. I learned that day that no family is exempt from such heartbreak, and what a shocking lesson it was.

"My mother grieved over the loss of her firstborn to her dying day and we were all affected by his death to one degree or another. We have kept Nelson's memory alive, though, through all these 58 years, by speaking of him to new generations, and his photograph still hangs on the wall along with other family members."

* * *

Robert Sawyer of Bakersfield called to talk about the late actor Jimmy Stewart, with whom he spent time at the Hobbs Army Air Field in New Mexico during World War II. Sawyer was an assistant to the quartermaster, the officer in charge of providing clothing, shoes, beds and food for the soldiers.

One day Sawyer gave Stewart a ride to the base so he could buy some khakis. When they got to the base, Stewart looked at the cigar-smoking Sawyer and asked him if that was the only cigar he had.

"No, look in the bottom of the desk drawer and you'll find a box of them," Sawyer said. Stewart did, and a friendship was born.

"Stewart was the most wonderful common man you ever met," Sawyer said.

On Thursdays, the officers could buy any kind of clothes they wanted at a discount from the quartermaster. Stewart would buy shoes for his friends among the enlisted men. One week, size eights, the next week, 11s.

"That Jimmy Stewart is funny," somebody said. "He can't even find a pair of shoes that fit him."

Sawyer, 83, has kept in touch with a couple of buddies from his days at Hobbs. Recently he called Steve, one of his friends who now lives in Brady, Texas. Steve's wife answered and said, "He left me. He's passed away."

Sawyer called their mutual friend in New Mexico to give him the sad news and found out he'd had a heart attack.

"I told my wife I don't think I'll call anybody anymore," Sawyer said.

* * *

Since we're riding this black horse, Bill Tracy talks about visiting a British military cemetery which had, as is the custom in England, a garden with beautiful flowers planted along the rows of headstones. One headstone caught his attention. It read, "A soul so fiery sweet lives and loves and works through all eternity."