An article written by my father, the Rev. C. Thomas Paige, as it appeared in the Tri-State Defender on the date shown.
Every now and then it falls my task to go past a place that calls for much thinking on my part. On one of the prominent streets of this city you will find this sign: “HOME FOR THE INCURABLES.”
The very word “incurables” stirs within me a deep-seated feeling of futility, a futility that destroys all hope of improving one’s condition. What a terrible thing it must be when men get in situations where they lose all hope of bettering their condition. It is at this point that I feel that a man loses all hope of ever improving his condition. Yet man is constructed thusly. Many men spend all of their lives reaching for a goal that, time after time, slips through their fingers.
On and on this procedure goes — man holding out hope against hope that maybe next time, it will be his chance. With this idea hidden deeply in his bosom, he is inspired to go on and on. But one day he sits down, weighs every angle, and then realizes that there is no use in trying to go further. His case is hopeless.
When men reach this point in life, it is then and only then that they are old. These unfortunate men, women and children sitting behind that sign “HOME FOR THE INCURABLES” would automatically make one stop and thing. This sign could easily read “HOME FOR THOSE FOR WHOM THERE IS NO HOPE.”
HOW TRAGIC
How tragic must be the condition of one who sits around day after day waiting for an end that is inevitable! How pitiful must be the fate of that one who watches his fellow men of the same state missing day after day. He knows that some day, in the small hours of the morning, he, too, will quietly steal away into another world. Now he sits, hour after hour, waiting for that hour that apparently never comes. Life means much to every man as long as in his breast there is hope of a better day.
This is true in every walk of life. As long as man can look forward to achieving some of his most cherished goals, life has a meaning. But once man throws in the towel and cries out, “Oh, what’s the use!” man is a lost soul.
The very fact that a man can still hold forth hopes that one day he will reach, we have a young man. But once man gets to a place in his thinking that life is a hopeless thing, he is through. As long as man is in a position to hope that tomorrow will be better than today, he is in a position to do something worthwhile. But once man arrives at the point that he feels life is a hopeless thing, he has, at that point, become an incurable.
WHEN HOPE DIES
It is always unfortunate that many men have allowed life to arrive at a point where they have gotten into a rut from which there is no escape. Life is in a bad shape. I love to see a young man and his wife starting off with all of their “air castles.” How unfortunate it would be for a young couple to marry with no ideas of family life, of a beautiful home one day, or no day when Johnny or Sue would be getting married. Life would be a dreadful thing.
But the things that we hope tomorrow will bring forth always stand before us as a stimulus to keep going on. It is at this point, and only this point, that man can continue to grow and hold forth for brighter tomorrows, for the candle of hope. As long as man is in a position to hope there is hope for his life. Once man arrives at the point that we are here in the home for the incurables there is no hope for him. A life that holds forth the worthwhile and the noble for a man also offers this man a possibility of making life a noble tribute, not only to himself, but to all with whom he comes in contact.
VIVIAN J. PAIGE | All Politics is Local 
Vivian, you sure were one lucky gal.
I, too, had a really nice father who loved me unconditionally until the day he died when I was 19-years old.
Since he died when I was 13, I’m really learning more about him thru his writings than anything else. I’m always trying to figure out what he means.