I feel no compunction about being truly satisfied that the life of Charles Manson is at last over. A man who never felt any sadness or remorse over the lives he affected or ended due to his influence.
Manson was born into and raised in true dysfunction. A reason for his depravity but never an excuse. Good people have come out of far worse.
I can’t help but realize Charles Manson was older than my living grandmother. He also lived to be older than my maternal grandfather and paternal grandmother. This is a travesty and a shame.
Manson was sentenced to death until the “great” State of California decided the death penalty was a bridge too far regardless of proven depravity and guilt in 1972. I’m no fan of the death penalty, but Manson always seemed like a worthy candidate, if any.
That Manson outlived Gary Hinman, the LaBiancas, Sharon Tate, Abigail Folger, Jay Sebring, Wojciech Frykowski and Stephen Parent is far worse.
That his name, and those of his cohorts, are more well-known is unconscionable.
So, bye, Loser.
May your name be forever synonymous with those who are eternally forsaken.
Never asking for forgiveness in life, and never trusting in an everlasting and redeeming Heavenly Father, one can only hope — even those as questioning in faith as I am — that he is reaping an excruciating pain as horrific as the one he asked his followers to inflict upon others and their loved ones.
To anyone who thinks this is an exceedingly ugly-spirited post, I realize there is little to suggest it’s not. But no one deserves it quite like he does.
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