How, my father, the first, Lord Howard Hurts, made me understand that "Might Makes Right".
I was 16 years old, when my father, Lord Howard, came to me, and asked me to drive over to his apartment building in the middle of Maidstone, in Kent, and collect the rent from a Mr. Carter in apartment 212. He further told me to see that I did not leave without receiving the rent owed. Well, I went to the apartment building, a new, modern, building that held 64 rentals in a horseshoe design, with an extensive and beautiful garden, giving the modern complex both a trendy, and at the same time a "country cottage" look. The building was directly in the commercial part of the town, and was quite convent for persons who did not have a car for transportation, and relied on either walking or taxi transport. The rents were modest, and the occupancy rate had held at a profitable 97% over the 10 years since the buildings' opening. The renters were mostly retired persons, singles and couples, who held small pensions. Nice quiet people for the most part.
When I got to the building, I went directly to Mr. Carter's door, on the second floor, and pressed the outside bell button. He answered the bell, almost immediately, and when I told him that I had been instructed by the Lord to claim his rent check, he began to respond to me in both a loud and domineering voice. He said that I need not bother him for he had always paid his rent on time; that he was busy at that particular time; and that I could go home, and inform Lord Howard that he would forward the rent check in due time. He then proceeded to close the door in my face.......... punctuated with a loud slam. Thinking that I had done my job, I proceeded to go home, and inform my father of the situation. Well, I was in for a huge surprise. Father, started, "You moron. I told you to bring back the rent....no excuses. I could let this cretin send the rent when he pleases; I don't need you to go around, and translate for this fool. He has a binding contract, and he needs to pay according to that contract." Well, I was quite surprised at the furry of father. I had only seen him this "wild" on no more than 3 occasions in the past 16 years, and I was not sure, by his ferocity, if he was going to "kill" me, or the errant tenant. Father told me to bring the car around, and said that we both would go visit Mr. Carter, and see that he understood the complete meaning of an obligatory, legal document.
I brought the car around, and father got in, and he seemed so calm, that I was thinking that I had dreamed the previous encounter. We arrived at the apartment building without further incident, and father beat a path up the stairs to Mr. Carter's apartment, with me following in dogged pursuit. Father did not even ring the door bell.....he pounded on the door, 3, or 4, very hard hits.... and it was suddenly opened by Mr. Carter. Mr. Carter was a slight man in his mid fifties, and father was just slightly less than 6 foot, but with the build of a prize winning boxer. Father, did not even give Mr. Carter time to speak. He grabbed this renter with his left hand.....a handful of shirt....and proceeded to push him across the living room, and into a wall. Father, using the handful of colorful flannel..... then lifted the slight man upwards so that his toes barely touched the floor. He then screamed in Mr. Carter's face, "Don't give me excuses and don't dismiss my son when I have sent him to collect your rent. I am going to count to 10, and when I get to 10, if you have not put your rent check in my hand, I will grab you by your shirt once again, and I will take my right hand, and grasp your balls and squeeze them, and I will then throw you through that front window. And then I will go outside and pick up your bloody and broken body, and throw you back into this room, and continue to do so until you say, "Quit." Father then let Mr. Carter down, and there upon he (Carter) ran into his bedroom and returned with check book in hand. Looking quite scared, Carter then sat on the living room couch; leaned forward....... and used the steamer trunk, he had as a coffee table, to substitute as a writing desk, to write out the rent check. He handed it to father, and announced, "I have included an extra $15 dollars to compensate you for your collection trouble." Father took the check, and we went home, saying not a word in the car during the trip.
Later that night, father, summoned me to his library, and he informed me that I was to take charge of the rentals at the apartment building starting as soon as I either evicted someone, or took over from someone that had an expired lease. He further informed me that I would be living on my own, and handling all the general maintenance on the building, and the collection of all rents...... and that I would need to figure out how much to increase the rents to compensate for my living in one of the apartments...for "free". I was overjoyed at the prospect of being only 16, and living away from home, and having a "bachelor pad" in the middle of town. Father, also told me to contact his friend, Carl Zinman, who owned a furniture store, and to get myself everything I needed to establish my future domain. I lived in that apartment building for three and one half years, and learned how the "real world" operates on this planet we call Earth. The Very Reverend, Sydney James, was so wrong. "Might Always Makes Right", it is just a matter of how much force to apply, and when to apply that force. This is what always separates "Good" from "Evil".
Epilogue: Mr. Carter continued to inhabit unit 212, and even extended his "stay" by another year contract. Lord Howard never again set foot on the property, leaving complete control in my "hands" until I left England, and moved to America. Lord Howard sold the property 6 months later and made himself a pretty penny indeed.
Lord Howard Hurts