The Lucknow Sentinel, 1986-08-27, Page 4Page 4 ',willow Seatiiiel9 Wednesday9 August 279 1986
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P.O. Box 40Q LUCKnow NOG 21=1(3
528.2822
CCNA
Established 1878
Thomas Thompson
Alan Rivett
Pat Livingston
,loan Helm
Merle Elliott
-Advertising Manager
-Editor
-General Manager
-Compositor
Typesetter
BLUE
RIBBON
AWARD
1986
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Strike end re»af firbms fi..ith•
Recently the Ontario Medical. Association decided it ,would. no longer.
call on Ontario's doctors to participate In rotating. strikes. That decision:
was a wise. one, following on the heels of very misguided advice to its
members. It is to be hoped the protracted fuliscale strike which., ended a
few weeks ago has not ;permanently injured the public's relationship with
a dedicated and largely -unselfish group of professional People.
The greatest mistake of all was making the sick people of the province''
pawns in a bitter gamble for professional independence, The members of
the public who pay for medical insurance .coverage, whether or not they
need it, were placed at risk and, we believe, many conscientious doctors
were ,pushed into a withdrawal of •services which'they must have found
very distasteful. •
The dispute, after all, was between the Ontario government and the
members of • the medical profession.. The solution should have ` been
worked out by direct discussion between the doctors and the government.
The talks might have gone on for a long time, but that is the just and
proper way to settle such an argument. pew -of us who are potential
patients really know whether doctors are underpaid or not, and when the
cost of medical care escalated in the past and health insurance rates rose,
we heard no suggestion of any general outcry from the public. If the price
of health care must go up, so be it. We will no doubt pay the shot in be
thankful we live in a land where illness will not devastate those. who �
it.
The peaceful Conclusion of the, doctors' strike reaffirms our faith in th
medical profession.
[Wingham .Advance -Times]
W'ite. a letter
to the Editor
ScntIuei says goo4-byt
to Iamdmr column
This week's Sentinel represents a
milestone of sorts, albeit a rather sad
one. It represents a good-bye to an old,
familiar and very special friend.
A lot ofour readers will be a trifle sad
to learn that Don Campbell, the Kincar-
dine columnist and broadcaster, will no
longer be writing the popular "Red -
trees" colifrnn for the Sentinel and a
host of other publications in this area..
This week's Redtrees 'column will be
his last.
Over the many years Redtrees has
appeared in our paper, readers' have
"tuned in" to the fictional town of
Redtrees which, according to Mr.
Campbell, represents every small town
in this area which was carved from the
wilderness by the original settlers.
To the Sentinel, the column was one
of untouchable elements of, the edditorial
page - .a "must run" item.. It reminds
me of a story when I first came to work
at the paper a year ago. Fresh out of
journalism school, . I questioned then*
editor Sharon Dietz as to why a news-
paper was running fiction stories.
She looked at me in a strange way and
said; "You don't' dare pull Redtrees.
You'll have half of Lucknow Balling to
complain!"
But, as I began to read Redtrees with
regularity, I. too became hooked on the
individual characters and stories within
ALAN
Redtrees.
The columns were like soap operas
set in story foram and. , like a soap opera,
you had to wait until next week for the
exciting denouement. I remember one
time anxiously waiting on a Thursday
for the columnto arrive at the office so I
° could find out what happened to Annie
Livingstone, the tempestuous and not -
so -loyal wife of Allan Livingstone, a
stonemason, : You see, she was due to
;give birth, but Dr, Cameron didn't hold,
out much hope for her due to complica-
tions,
When the column finally did arrive, I
learned, much to my surprise, that
Annie had diedi' But, in pioneer days
without the benefit of modern medicine,
this too was reality for the first settlers
in the area.,
Although I've never bad the oppor-
tunity to meet Mr. Campbell, I'm sure
the readers would want me to thank you
for providing them with first - class
reading over the. years.
Good-bye Redtrees.
What is one lifespan as compared to the
age of this old earth? Just a raindrop in a
barrel of time! In only a fleeting moment
we are born to engage in the battle of
survival, knowing all too soon, we shall, slip
quietly andunnoticed into oblivion. Beyond
the close circle of family and friends,few of
us are privileged to leave even the faintest
mark upon the pages of history. Inevitably,
all things must come to and today, you and
I will be saying goodbye to. Redtrees:
"Where is Redtrees?" Although I have
ben asked this question a thousand times,
I have evaded the answer until now. I knew
many y , . � would be disappointed
of its readers
to learn the Canadian Scottish settlement
was merely a figment of my imagination.
At least, that is what it started out to be.
But I am a sentimental dreamer and have
allowed my fantasies to . run wild. I can
even smell the wood smoke rising from the
log cabins. To me, Redtrees represents
every community curved from a harsh
wilderness by the .pioneers,
"Why was it called Redtrees?" The
Reverend Duncan MacLeod saw a message
from heaven written into the crimson
beauty of .the maple leaves. "We should
look do mare frac a name," he shouted
triumphantly as he pointed to the flaming
treetops. "Can ye no see it written by the
hand of Almighty God? This place is
Redtrees!"
Human nature has changed little over
the last hundred years and many people in
my own community resemble their count-
erparts in Redtrees. I see a little of Doctor
Cameron in every medical practitioner who
places his calling above material gain and I
regret his personal sacrifice is not fully
appreciated by those he so diligently
serves. It was ever thus.
When 1 see the pirates, of religion
making their weekly tear jerking plea for
funds on television to a gullible public, 1
ata thankful the majority of ministers shun
blatant hypocracy. The Reverend Duncan
MacLeod, without elaborate sets, actors,
and lavish auditoriums with the angelic
choirs and musicians, mansged to put his
message across when he said: "It is, easier
for a camel to pass ' through the eye of a:
needle than for a rich man to enter into the
Kingdom of God."
Thankfully, the strong, silent men of our
community (such as Mulish. Murdoch and
Allan Livingstone) still remind us that "if a
country is worth living in, it is worth
Langside store
By Wendy Grster
fighting for". They belong to a fast
disappearing breed which once ensured
ourT ture and gave us a reason to be proud
and patriotic. They might ask us what we
have done to deserve the right to live in
such a bountiful land. Who will defend
fieedom and democracy when all the real
Canadians have disappeared from the
scene?
When things look gloomy there is
nothing we cando except laugh, and we
are grateful to all the Chippy Chisholins of
this world. We listen to, their outlandish
tales over and over again. Just look
aground, I am sure you will see old Chippy
wherever men gather to escape from the
women who presumably dominate their
lives..
The real backbone of Redtrees was, its
womenfolk. Behind the scenes. they stood
by their inen through all adversities, hiding
their fears of the unknown in a strange and
,hostile bush. If any good has emerged from.
these modern times, it is surely we now
recognize they are equal (if not superior) to
men.
I have left the main character until last.
Neil MaeCrimmon is the one who is closest
to my heart. Until he emigrated to Canada,
•
he lived in a croft on the Isle of Skye with
his ' father, and scratched a living as a
sheep farmer, When he had the opportun-
ity to escape from his poverty-stricken
environment, he was reluctant to leave his
father, Normally, Neil was not given to
signs of emotion, but as he was walking
away from the croft with MacLeod, he saw
his father's face at the window.
"Wait another minute Reverend. I hae
tae runback an' say goodbye tae mi father
just one more time.
"If it's forever, MacCrimmon," Mac-
Leod said. "How• many times can you say
goobye'"
So as I go, let me imagine the pipes of
MacCrimmon playing a lament for the
'passing of Redtrees. Perhaps you will allow
me to visualize all my readers as friends
and hope my writings in some way added a
little happiness to their lives. The motto of
the Campbells is "Ne Gbliviscaris"
(Forget not) t hope Redtrees and I will be
remembered.
-'s
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