From Joel D. Hirst. Lufthansa has its last flight from Venezuela.
The Last Flight
This is what the end looks like. A flag draped over a departing airplane, the last flight – the last bridge. A sign of honor and gratitude from the departing – those never to return – grateful for so many years of connections. Of weekends spent in the lavish hotels. Of trips to the beach, smelling the salt seas; the mountains, the plains, the great savanna with its traditions steeped in the history of an indomitable people. I knew the old Venezuela – the one that Lufthansa remembered, flew to – served. The one of beer, and beach, and the beauty of great open places that knew no masters; that were safe and comfortable for so many – rich and poor alike. Old places – predating the commies (damn their resentment, those who only destroy, who think only in envy, greed and violence). Who deny the comforting equalizer of trade – because they would not compete; because they cannot compete.
Wonderful writing - go and read the whole lamentation. It is worth a couple minutes of your time. This is socialism in its end-game writ plain for us to observe and learn. So sad that so few of us do.
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