Times-Advocate, 1982-03-24, Page 4heti 4 •
Tim*MVecitS, Mardi 24, 1212
Times Established 1873
Advocate Established 1881
Amalgamated 1924
vocate
Serving South Huron, North Middlesex
& North Lambtor>i Since 1873
Published by I.W. Eedy Publications Umited
LORNE FEDY
Publisher
JIM BECKFTT
Advertising Manager
BILI. BATTEN
Editor
HARRY DEVRiES
Composition Manager
ROSS HAUGH •
Assistant Editor
DICK JONGKIND
Business Manager
Published Each Wednesday Morning at Exeter, Ontario
Second Class Mail Registration Number 0386.
Phone 235-1331
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tr
•yy1i,_u
The answer is known
Exeter council members are wise in delaying any
decision regarding a referendum on disarmament in
conjunction with this fall's municipal election.
As the executive committee correctly notes, there
is no guarantee that there will even, be a municipal
election, and it would be a waste of taxpayers' money
to be forced into a situation where all the election
machinery had to be put into gear for a referendum,
particularly when the outcome of the public opinion can
be pre -judged and at the same time end up being of
little consequence.
There's little doubt that the residents of Exeter
would vote overwhelmingly in favour of world disar-
mament but there is also little doubt that it won't have
any effect on the world powers. -
Disarmament has to be a two-way street and the
chances of the people in Russia getting the opportuni-
ty to vote in a simialar referendum is nil.
The outcome of a vote in Exeter would be as affir-
mative as one conducted to see whether ratepayers
wanted to have crime banned and the positive results
on those who perpetrate crime would be just the same
as those who stock -pile nuclear weapons.
Cost up, service down
Followers of columnist Bill Smiley will be pleas-
ed to know that his disappearance from last week's
editorial page was not due to his sudden demise or a
debilitating illness or injury.
He was the victim of poor postal delivery.
Bill's weekly column, ironically marked "rush",
arrived on March 17 after the paper had already been
published. It was addressed correctly, even to the point
of bearing the postai code:The post mark indicated it
had been received in a Toronto post office on March 10.
The time lapse gives ample evidence that postal
officials still have a long way to go to prove to Cana-
dians that the enormous increase •in postal rates is
justified.
It never took that long to arrive when Bill was
spending only 17 cents for postage. Why the delay now
that the price has gone up to 30 cents?
The \s_ ten i ig *Fon
r.,. i
We can, indeed, feelsonpesympathy for the fami-
ly of six that moved from Ontario to Manitoba for the
husband and father to take a job, only to lose that job
and end up on welfare.
Davis Clapper, 25, was laid off after only a month
because . the . company said he had unsuitable work
habits, The town council in Rivers, Man., tried to get -
the family to return to Ontario rather than pay them
social assistance.
A successful appeal to the provincial social ser-
vices advisory board, however, has forced the com-
munity to pay the family $887.75 a month. But now the
sympathy starts to wane.
Whoa Doiiy..,.
An era ended in the area last week with
the termination of door-to-door milk
delivery, and while only a few people will
be adversely affected, it does signal a ma-
jor change and perhaps will spur some
colorfulrecollections for many readers.
When Exeter was flourishing as a
village back in the late 1800s, cows were
a familiar sight in the community. Most
families owned one. Each day one of the
lads of the community would go around
the streets picking up the cows and take
them to pasture at a central location.
At night, he would gather them up and
drive them home, where a member of the
family would set about milking the cow
to provide milk for the table and supply-
ing mother with milk and cream for her
baking and making butter.
Cows had disappeared from the scene
when the writer moved from the semi -
rural setting of downtown Winchelsea to
settle in the "big town", but the tradi-
tional march of the cows through the
streets of Exeter was still carried on by
the late Louis Day, who had a barn
located behind the present municipal
office.
Each morning Louis could be seen tak-
ing his two milk suppliers to their pasture
in a field in which the writer's living room
is now located and each night he brought
them back home. On many of the trips he
was accompanied by a group of
youngsters, many of whom also delighted
in watching the other farming activities
which transpired at the Day barn in
downtown Exeter. There was the annual
hay harvest when Louis brought home the
winter supply of feed on his horse-drawn
wagon, and the spring task of carting
away the manure, always welcomed by
his neighbors.
It was the last vista of a practice that
1
That monthly payment include`*217 toward the
mortgage on their house, and $6jt4.75 in welfare
vouchers for food and clothing. Mt`.Clapper and his
wife don't want vouchers; if they can't get cash, they
said, town officials should deliver groceries to their
door.
The -Clappers got to Rivers with a $3,000 federal
relocation grant. With it, Mr: Clapper 'said,' heput a
down payment on their new house and bought a $250
white cockatoo, a color television set and a stereo and
. cassette player with digital time clock.
A month later, the family is on welfare. There's
something wrong with the system.
. end of era
had been familiar at most homes in town
at the turn of the century.
The arrival of the town's first dairy. pro-
mpted the change as cows soon started
to disappear from the scene as the dairy
relied on area farmers to bring in their
BATT'N
AROUND
with the editor
milk to be processed and delivered to
local homes.
It no doubt was welcome relief to the
bare-footed youngsters in the communi-
ty who no longer had to worry about the
cow -plops on the street.
While it signalled the end to a colorful
part of the town's history, it was replac-
ed by an equally colorful portion - the
delivery of milk by horse and cart, the lat-
ter giving way to a sleigh in the winter.
When the writer lived in the house
beside the local swimming pool, the
delivery man on the route was the late Bill
Haley, and he and his boss, Bobby Hatter,
were perhaps the best-known residents of
the community as they visited homes
along their route daily.
Bill's horse was Dolly and through the
years they had built up a relationship that
was similar in many ways to most human
relationships, in that the female member
of the team didn't pay any attention to the
advice of the male member. She knew
where she wanted to go and that was all
there' was to it!
Bill talked continually to his steed, but
it was always the same conversation:
"Whoa Dolly". When Bill alighted from
his cart to make a delivery, he could be
heard repeating "Whoa Dolly" as the
horse kept plodding along the route.
Her mpster would make his way
through the backyard to the next home,
cross over the street to cover homes on '
the opposite side and when his metal
basket had been depleted of its wares, he
would find that Dolly was waiting for him
at the precise spot where she stopped
every morning so he could replenish his
supplies and go through the whole pro-
cedure again for the next homes on the
route.
It was a well-known fact that Dolly
knew the route as precisely as the driver
and she was always in the right spot at'the
right time.
There were those who actually
suspected the horse knew the route bet-
ter than the driver, and there were occa-
sions when that benefitted one of the
delivery -men who was often known to not
have his faculties in full gear after "the
night before".
In retrospect, it was probably the ter-
mination of the use of one-horse power
that started to erode the viable economic
basis of door-to-door delivery, coupled
with that other modern invention,
refrigeration. It also increased the cost of
road hockey games as the kids had to
start using pucks instad of road apples.
The number of customers presently be-
ing serviced indicates that the end of the
era will not affect too many, but unfor-
tunately those who will be Affected the
greatest are senior citizens who often are
unable to get out to secure their needs,
particularly in the winter months.
Whoa Dolly!
1
"Good news — I got a month's advance.
The bad news is they called it `severance pay!' "
This anger is different
There's a dull, thumping
pulse of anger in the often
turgid bloodstream of the
Canadian people these
days.
Now there's nothing
wrong with anger, good
old-fashioned rage. It
purges the spiitit. Don't
you always, feel better
after a good fight has
cleared the air?
But this is different. The
current anger that per-
vades Canada doesn't
purge, it seems to curdle
and leave a residue of
bitterness that engenders
more anger.
Almost everyone is
'angry ; businessmen,
farmers; doctors,
teachers, welfare reci-
pients, immigrants,
house -wives, the elderly,
the English in Quebec, the
French in other provinces.
It doesn't seem to rest
on the usual reasons for
anger; .prejudice, poor
crops, jealousy, slippery
politicians, the cost of
living.
It appears to be based
on a massive feeling of
frustration• across the'
country. And it is turning
Canadians, normally a
docile and fairly happy-go-
lucky lot, mean. Really
mean. It stinks up the at-
mosphere, man.
There is a frustration
because we seem to be
drifting from a proud na-
tion into a melange of
malcontents, without uni-
ty or purpose. There is
frustration because
nobcitly can quite put his
finger on•the malaise, and
either point to it, or do
something about it.
Farmers are furious
because, no matter how
hard they work, however
benevolent the weather,
they seem to be slipping
deeper into a guagmereof
debt, low prices, high in-
terest rates, and foreclos-
ing mortgages. I don't
blame them.
Doctors are disgruntled
because they feel they are
the pawns of politic ns.
Sure, they have a hi in-
come. But they wor like
Teachers are a little
taut as they see the dark
ages returning, when The
Board was second only to
God, and sometimes neck
and neck, with a demand
,for lock -step, regimented
education, constant in-
terference bypeople who
ignorant totally of
education, and a standard
Immo, m
Sugar
and Spice
Dispensed By Smiley
dogs for the most part.
They have spent years and
thousands acquiring their
skills. They have no pen-
sion plan. They don't call
in sick when they have a
sniffle, as so many
workers do. They can't go
on strike because they just
can't. They take a holiday
and it costs them triple,
because their income
vanishes. They make a lit-
tle more than a plumber
or electrician, on most
jobs. They're frustrated.
And I don't blame them.
Sinai] businessmen are
caught in between a stone
and a hard place. Inflation
and unemployment. It
costs them far more to
operate, and there are far
fewer people who can buy
their goods.
People on welfare can't
live with any sort of digni-
ty on what they receive.
Senior citizens who work-
ed their butts off to. pro-
vide for the "golden"
years, are discovering
that the gold is brass, due
• to punitive tax measures.
of living that is steadily
slipping downhill, because
they are not militant.
Labour is livid as the
feelers come out from Ot-
tawa about wage control.
Mixed with their frustra-
tion is plain fear, fear of
losing the job, the house,
the marriage, when they
are forced onto the dole, or
pogie, as we now know it.
Housewives live in a
constant state of frustra-
tion and something akin to
fear, as they try to make
two dollars do what one
dollar would do ten years
ago and simply cannot.
About the only thing
most people would want to
be just now is a senior civil
servant who has just been
granted a fat increase in
salary, properly indexed.
All he/she has to do is
keep the nose clean, build
a small empire
(preferably looking al the
conditions of the poor) and
maintain a low profile.
I forgot the fishermen.
They go out in any kind of
weather, bust their,tails to
bring in vital protein, and
take a royal screwing
from the packers or the
government, not to men-
tion the Canadian public,
which simply doesn't eat
enought fish, because for
years it has been gorging
on beef and pork and
chicken. They are angry,
too, and I don't blame
them.
Well, what are we to do
with all this pent-up
anger? We don't want to
declare war on somebody,
just to give us a national
unity and purpose. That
would be as bright as kill-
ing the horse because he is
pulling the wagon, badly.
instead of pushing'it, into
the ditch.
Surely we must all look
towardOttawa, that Mec-
ca of impoverished in-
tellectuals, layabouts
who couldn't sell chili in
Inuvik, time -servers, fat
egoes,.party bagmen, and
confused little people of all
ages, sexes and factions,
who think they are leading
us.
As the anger in the coun-
try grows, our "leaders"
fight duels on Parliament
Hill, one with a bludgeon,
another with a sabre, and
the old, tired, cynical one
with a rapier. One never
quite knows who is being
struck or stuck.
As an old member of the
armed forces, of this coun-
try. I am used to being led
by boneheads. But there
was nothing in the con-
tract that said this must
follow in peace -time.
Rise up, ye people, and
turn thy wrath on Ottawa,
and blowtorch - the
cockroaches until there
a: a only a few left, to
perpetuate their species. I
have spoken.
Locals handle emergencies
In big cities a fire
department is something
that people take for
granted. You pick up the
phone in an emergency
and before you know it you
can hear the sirens com-
ing down the street.
In a small town, things
are different. As soon as
you put the phone down
you may well hear the
siren but it's not from one
of the trucks. The siren is
the one set on top of the
fire hall calling the
Volunteers in to man the
vehicles. Things are a lit-
tle more modernized now
and many of the
volunteers carry 'beepers'
which warn them to get to
the nearest phone, or even
carry a radio which gives
them the whereabouts of
the fire.
. Manx of the fire depart-
ments in small towns now
are surprisingly well-
equipped with modern
machine operators, are
well-trained at such places
as the Sarnia Industrial
Fire Prevention School.
Perspectives
By Syd Fletcher
tools ranging from oxygen
masks to pie. "Jaws of
Life" - giant\metal cutters
that will go right through
the metal of a car like soft
butter,
As well, the volunteer
fire-fighters, who range in
regular occupations from
hank managers to
One volunteer fireman
told me a little about that
course.
They had three teams,
each working on a large
hose. At the centre of the
field is a huge horse -
trough affair filled with
kerosene and other
goodies. Near it' is a pipe
from which natural gas
comes under pressure. A
match is tossed into the
mess and the job is to get
up there and turn off the
gas valve.
The firemen said that if
a person didn't know fear
before Thep he would cer-
tainly'hat)e a taste of it
when he approached that
valve. The noise was like
a steam engine's whistle
right at your ear plus the
roar of the fire. Two hoses
were sprayed on the fire to
keep it at bay as the third
team approached.
Sounds like fun, eh?
It's nice to know though
that the local boys have
had some good training in
their trade in case an
emergency happens in our
small towns.