HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Lucknow Sentinel, 1981-04-22, Page 6Page 6—Lecitnow Senthiel., W.s,h
The
1
The seroo, Eshibilithed 1873
JOCELYN WRIER'. Publisher
SHARON J. tneTz,,, Editor
ANTHONY N. JOHNSTONE - Advertising and
General Manager
PAT LIVINGSTON •• Office Manager
-MERLE ELLIOTT , 'TYpesetter.
JOAN HELM Composition •
Business and Editorial Office Telephone S21.3-2822
Mailing Address P.O..R0400, Lueknow, NOG 2HO
Second Class Mail Registration Number '0847
Subscription rate; 513.50 per year inadrance
Senior Pilsen Woo $114$0 per year in isivanie
U.S.A. and Forelsins 523.00 per year in advance
Sr. C04 U.S.A. and Foreign, $2,1.00 per year in advance
say about
In an age when it seems that everything we consume
is aimed at the mass market, the weekly newspapers do
• stand apart. Thc daily papers tell us about the world --
. most days. Some days they become a little less worldly.
• But you tell us about ourselves. No other institution has
done as much to preserve the character and the
individual nature of communities across this provinee
than has your own particular industry.
"And that is the special contribution, in my view, that
you make to the life of this province. It isn't something
you can measure in circulation figures or in advertising
'revenues. It may also be the reason that prompted many
of you to choose the profession that you did. The weekly
newspaper is the voice of the community. It is its
conscience and the author of new ideas. Reporting the
news without fear or favor -- .when your critics are a
phone call away -- sometimes they can be your next-door
neighbour -- when your children are playing hockey oar
-football or. „basketball with their children -- reale
demands a special blend of integrity, , of tact, and just as
importantly, of sensitivity
"Few other occupations require the range of skills that
must be mastered by a weekly editor. l've known a few
over the years. Do many of you recall Werden Leavens. A
great fellow. Bolton Enterprise. Werden used to come to
. meetings that I attended. He would take the pictures. He
would write the story. He would go home and edit the
• story. He would retedit again, depending on how he felt
• the day after he had originally written the story: He
would set the type and he would print it And then he
would go out on the main streets of Bolton and sell the
• • publication himself. New that's a slight exaggeration but
• it does, 1 think, display rather graphically how a weekly
• . newspaper sometimes operates. '
"Your newspapers speak for many people They speak
for many causes, and they speak from platforms that
• reflect the diversity of ourprovince. But you all speak for
certain principles ,and certain ideals teat I believe we
should in fact preserve and protect. The sense of
• community -- that's whet a community newspaper is
about. The importance of. the individuals within those
•communities and the importance of the family are
fundamental to the way of life we enjoy in this province:
And 1 happen to believe these concepts run deep in the
character of this province as well.'
Describing the weekly newspaper the way a weekly
newspaper editor would like it described was Premier
Bill Davis at a Toronto convention.
The newspaper is always a businese, it must be a.
business, but it is also other things that cannot be
measured,
The voice of the community. Its conscience. And its
• refiectibp •on day. to day life of its local readers,
Premier Davis described the job weekly papers are
.ting in one brief sentence when he said "You tell us
About ourselves.' 4
We couldn't have said it a4 better.
The Kincardine News
•
•
•
‘•
„a.• w*--:
• •-••••- r r„, iv
• •••TI?
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' •
•
time in Otiftwa
• By Den Camp. bell
•A summer storm transformed , Lake Ontario from a
gentle broad expanse of water into an angry sea.. For
most of the day, there were intermittent downpours of
rain and strong winds. The Kingston Lass rigged to bare-
ly half her canvas made slow progress towards Toronto.
'I* hen just as quickly as it had appeared, the fury
• subsided and the dark.clouds cleared from the sky. The
ship was once more returned to full canvas before the sun
sank below the misty horizon, . leaving e wake of
indescribable colour and tranquility. •
•
Below decks, the Reverend Duncan MacLeod held his
last, service on board the ship: He offered a prayer ef
thanks for their deliverance from the dangers they had
encountered and from the pestilence which had reduced
• their numbers since leaving their land. He told
them that God in His mercy had caused them to be
banded togetherin mutual strength,. to face whatever
• they might encounter in the new land,
"Let us then, though we go our separate way, ever
• reinain in contact with each other for our mutual benefit
and survival. I propose we form our own society to which,
•if you will permit me, I have chosen a name. How
befitting think you, is the title "Friends of Skye"?"
The little congregation broke into a babble of converse -
tion, There were shouts of "Aye". "Tis a brew *name"
and "We agree wi' that!" MacLeod lifted his hand to
restore silence.
"We 'are in all twenty-five souls, men, women and
children. But I have no doubt that we shall grow in
,nurnber!"
Doctor Cameron interrupted the minister. "You may
• add one more at this very moment, Reeerend. That is, if
you will allow a Cameron to call himseW your friend."
• There was laughter and cries of agreement. Suddenly
they became aware of -a man who had remained silent
• throughout the proceedings. They looked at him, as if
inducing him to speak.
"Would you also take a man from Sutherland as a
• member. Sir?" Hamish Murdoch asked in a quiet
self-conscious tone. There were eries of "That we
would," and "Twenty-seven, that makes us twenty-sev-
en!" lee or two of the men slapped Hamish hearitly
upon the bad. Kate MacQueen added her own assent to
the majority, and. told the women once again. "Refresh is
such a brew man - just like my dear departed David."
Flora looked at Neil MacCritnmon and smiled happily
as she twisted the ring upon her finger.. The red -flash of
the opal stone reminded her that somebody else had
been -forgotten in the number.
•
"Nay, not twenty-seven," she called out unabashedly.
"We ha`e forgotten another who is up there on the deck.
CWheahroini
eltwrty.eight, for we did not count upon Chippy
Chisholm!"
•
The last night 'upon the Kingston Lass was filled with
excitement. Tomorrow they would land at Toronto.
Would they be disappointed? What fortune would they
encounter in the days ahead? Happily they found
strength in eachother and vowed they would always be a
part
tnf that irnativettlegroland.,upof,- exiled people who were forced
toleave h
Captain Jamieson steed at the wheel holding a
calculated course upon strange watere. A ,large moon
spattered the surface of thelake in reflected yellow light.
and although he was approaching the capital of Upper
�ursc.
"he
fwit
He sent a malt aloft to the crow's nest. According to his
charts there was a lighthouse on the' peninsula which
jutted out into Lake. Ontario, from the east of Toronto
hur. fbomTorontolaterorur.1Inid
years this wasto be severed by nature,
In less than an hour, the' man in the crow's nest called
out to confirni that the Kingston Lass was on course.
"Light on the starboard bow, Sir!"
rigging.me a bearing," the captain shouted into the
ti
•
"Noflashes!"mretllten degrees
Sir!
ifs a lighthouse
Captain Jamieson guessed it ,would be several hours
'
seethe • I
before he sighted Toronto. It Would be daylight then and
sailhewdoiutledetbi; ainb
tole to hrohuantdbothoet.point of the peninsela and,
With his course now a certainty, Jamieson would have
been justified in handing over the watch to the first mate
and going below. But there was no sleep on -his mind.
only the thoughts of his new career of sailing upon the
inland waters. It was yet another adventure in a roving
life. Would he miss the long voyages around the world,
or outlive the longing to see again the rugged coast of
Scotland? He snapped himself back to reality.'"
"Starboard ten it is - come clown now lad, and go
below. 1 think 1 can find my way to Toronto!"
o