HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1974-07-10, Page 2This co;unin is going to be a little tough to
write. No, there hasn't been a death in the
family. Not quite.
But 1 wasn't too sure I wasn't going to bleed
to death (through the eyes) when I tottered out
of bed at seven this morning just two hours
after tottering into bed.
It was all that reading. My brother-in-law,
Jack Buell, brought along ,on a visit some old
high school football pictures, and we spent
most of the night, barely stopping for food and
drink deciphering the names under the photos.
There we were, in the late 1930's, looking so
young and sweet and innocent it would make
your eyes water. One picture was. headed:
Undefeated Champions of Lanark County.
That was a great year, I reckon ; Come on,
now. How many of you have ever been on a
team of Undefeated Champions of anything?
We talked and laughed a lot as we identified
long-forgotten faces and our wives muttered
away contemptuously in the background. They
thought we were behaving like a couple of
schoolboys. We were.
Right in the middle of the front row, holding
the ball, was Les Douglas, quarterback and
team captain. He wasn't a big guy, but he was
solid bone, muscle and grit. He could always,
claw his way that extra five inches for a
touchdown ; through six hundred pounds of
enemy flesh.
He was a great hockey player, too. Make it to
professional. But he was born twenty years too
soon. There were just too many great hockey
players in those days, and he didn't quite make
the NHL, though he lead the American Hockey
League in scoring for several -seasons. Today,
he'd be knocking off about $60,000 a year.
Flanking him in the photo were Bob White
and Tom Harper. Tom could run with the ball
like a rabbit with six guys shooting at him.
Bob White was my best friend, through high
school. He wasn't huge, either, but when we
needed a few yards, there was no question of
who would get the ball. Bob would take a
plunge at anything the size of a doughnut hole,
and always come up with the necessary yards.
We all hated school, except for the sports,
but Bob White was bright. Today, he'd be
going to college and becoming an engineer, or
something equally useless. But in those days,
there was no way. No students' loans, no
grants, and clang, few affluent parents. If you
got a job in, a factory, you were lucky.
Last time Isaw Bob was in London, England,
during the war. It was in the lobby of the
famous, or infamous, Strand Palace, He was
checking out, I was checking in.' Hello and
goodbye. He had completed one tour of
operations on bombers and was about to begin
his second. On which he was killed.
Beside Bob in the picture' was Johnny Hogg,
A . nice guy, who was forced by his parents to
maintain a much higher standard of
intellectual and cultural life than the rest of us.
poolroom bums. He played the violin. He
passed his subjects. He was a cleamliving,
good-looking lad, just the type you'd want for
yourself, though he had a distressing habit of
dropping crucial punts.
,As I heard it later, they found Johnny lying ,
in a rubber., dinghy in the Mediterannean.
Dead. He'd been shot down, wounded,
parachuted, going into the dinghy, and died,'
Then there was Les Morris, a boy with a
terrible home life, a terrible birthmark, anda
personality, to go with both. But he was also a
terrible, terrifying tackler, who could hit a
fancy-dancy halfback so hard that the
didn't know he'd been amputated at the knees
until he tried to stand up.
And Norm Davis. He had the speed ofa
back
ga gazelle, and thndte whegarr
either.
aceofu. He didn't come
There were quite a few more, but Old Jack,
ptragicin thethe
fact at
my brother-in-law and myself, didn't belabour
theur ple
W aell theiau things
untilw e we were
away w ith, not all the things that had got away'
so many Of us.
It was also nice to see our coaches, Ear
. Fleming, teacher, such a handsome young nian
I can't believe we called him 'Old Flea' 3'
Cosgrove, 248 pounds of science teacher who,
could wipe two recalcitrant students off their
stools with one hand as easily as I could wipe
the dust off the window sill, if such a silly Nag
ever occurred to me.
As you can see, this has been a hard column
to write. And probably a mighty difficult onelo
read.
Sugar and Spice
By Bill Smiley
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`But man. will not find a new Way of life, One that
respects, the needs and IirnitatiOnS. of his
environment, unless the implications of his present
course are brought squarely into the forum. of
political discussion, It is not. good 'enough. .for our
leaders to treat the problem philosophically in
addreSSeS to university convocations, only to put it
out of their 'minds when they come asking us to' elect
therni it may not lend . itself well to the making of
seductive eleCtiOn .prOtiliSOC but it is, the long.
View the greateSt. political .challenge We face,'
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SSTABLISI4E1)
1672
4Brussels Post
WEDNESDAY, JULY 10, 1974
Serving Brussels and the surrounding community,
Pliblished each Wednesday afternoon at Brussels, Ontario
by McLean 13ros.Publishers, Limited.
Evelyn Kennedy - Editor Tom Haley - Advertising
Member Canadian. Community Newspaper Association and
Ontario Weekly Newspaper Association.
Subscriptions (in advance) Canada $6.00 a year, Others
$8.00 a year, Single Copies 15 cents each.
Second class mail Registration No. 0562.
Telephone 887-6641.
The real problems
BRUSSELS
ONTARIO
CCNA
Although it wasn't emphas i zed in the campaigns
and publicity surrounding the three major political
•leaders throughout the recent election, there are
serious problems facing Canada and the rest of the
industrialized world right now. And they're not
problems of inflation or oil shortages or lack of
housing.
But the problems we are talking about are perhaps
the central ones of this century. Their solutions will
determine the.quality of life or whether or not we are
around at all in the next century.
We are talking about consumption, about the fact
that the affluent minority on this globe--that's us and
the other industrial countries--is burning up
irreplaceable resources in which all who live on this
planet should have a stake.
We in the richer countries are using up things like
fossil fuels, clean water and agriculturally valuable
' land that our, third world brothers are too poor or
feeble to put a claim on right now. Not only are we
using their share of these. resources', . we are using
and wasting so much that there would be little left for
the non industrialized world even on the odd chance
that droughts. ceased, populations decreased and
plague and famine were conquered, so that they
could manage to catch up with us.
The -standard of living which many of us in the
.west take for granted could not possibly be extended
to the almost 4 billion who live on this globe.
All of the things which were issues 'in the late,
election, inflation, high oil prices, threats of energy
' shortages, high food prices are related to the fact
that most of us in Canada are living far beyond our
collective means.
There simply aren't enough resources in the world
to produce all the latest goodies for all of us. We
cannot just sit in front of our colour, tvs and zoom
around in our speed boats arkl hope something, from
somewhere will replace non-renewable resources
and also . keep the hungry hordes in the non
industrialized world quiet while we live it up. In
other words, something has to give.
A little honesty about the fix that we are in and the
sacrifices it will mean might be well received by the
Canadian public.
Canadians are a little afraid that something is
wrong and some fear a•depression or a recession or
some other economic upheaval. They deserve a hard
analysis from their leaders rather than vague
reassurances.
The Toronto Globe and Mail pointed out recently
that an American politician, Rogers Morton,
Secretary of the Interior, with rare candour warned
that the world faces a crisis of exhausted, natural
resources within 25 years unless we act soon to
develop long range planning to prevent it. 'If we
don't do this between now and the turn of the
century, civilization will be faced with virtually-
rebuilding itself,' he said. '
If it sounds like glooM and doom and 'the end of
the world is at hand talk, it is in a way. The Globe
and Mail puts it succinctly:
'But there must be a start, now, toward a radical
rethinking of the acquisitive urge that has been the
driving force of 'Western society since the industrial
revolution. The high rates of consumption of the
developed world today have, in the perspective of the
lifetiMe of mankind, prevailed only for a moment.
There have been civilizations nobler, and no doubt
happier; than that of the industrial west. A world
without jumbo jets, poWer yachts or color television
sets could produce an Aristotle, a Leonardo da Vinci
and a Shakespeare. Mari need not live by plastids
Canada geese