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HomeMy WebLinkAboutTimes-Advocate, 1986-11-05, Page 4Page 4 '
Times -Advocate, November 5, 1986
Times Established 1873
Advocate Established 1881
Amalgama ed 1924
BLUE
R!BBON
AWARD
imes -
dvocate
Published Each Wednesday Morning at Exeter, Ontario, NWM 1S0
Second Class Mail Registration Number 0386.
Phone S19-235-1331
a PCNA as.:
LORNE EEDY
Publisher,
JIM BECKETT
Advertising Manager
Bat BATTEN
Editor
HARRY DEVRIES
Composition Manager
ROSS HAUGH
Assistant Editor
DICK JONGKIND
Business Manager
SUBSCRIPTION RATES:
Canada: $25.00 Per year; U.S.A. $65.00
C.W.N.A., O.C.N.A. CLASS 'A'
The significance
The following essay by Julie Doll,
Fairview, Alberta, was the senior winner
in the annual essay contest conducted by
the Royal Canadian legion among
students in Canadian schools.
At a recent Remembrance Day ser-
vice I stood alone amidst the crowd. I had
nothing to do with the wars. I simply
didn't understnad why we went through
the motions of a service every year to re-
mind ourselves of the horrors of war,
violence and death.
As I wondered, my eyes caught sight
of an old man. He wore a beret and on his
chest was pinned a bright red poppy. As
the band played "0 Canada", his eyes
welled with tears. Yet he sat erect with
his hand elevated in a salute and proud-
ly sang along. His body was maimed. He
sat propped in his wheelchair and as I
looked closer, I saw that he had no legs.
He had been in the war and despite his
phenomenal handicap, he made his way
to the cenotaph to lay a wreath.
I continued to wonder. This man, so
obviously destroyed by the horrors of war
continued his love of country and took an
active part in the service. Then
something else caught my eye. An elder-
ly woman next to me clutched a yellow-
ing picture of a handsome young man,
and as the bagpipes played on, she smil-
ed with pride and said to me as she
tenderly caressed the frame, "You know,
he died for freedom for you and me".
The service was over, and soon I was
left standing alone in front of the monu-
ment. As I read the names of those peo-
ple who died in the war, the words of that
elderly woman kept running through my
mind,".... freedom ... for you and me..."
I continually envisioned the maimed old
man singing "0 Canada" and I finally
realized why I attended that Remem-
brance Day service. Those brave men
and women of days long past fought for
me. They fought to preserve a way of life
for their children and their children's
children. They gave their lives for
freedom. I realized that the memorial
services were not to immortalize the suf-
fering and hardship of war, but to instill
in the hearts of all men and women the
pride and bravery of our ancestors, and
to help us prevent the tragedy of war
from occurring again. -
I finally understood that the world
lay in our hands and that by having
memorial services we would learn to pro-
tect it from evil and love it like those
brave men and women loved it...for all
time.
Emphasis shifts
The annual horror stories related by
Auditor -General Kenneth Dye about
government spending errors and waste
are almost as predictable as the outcome
of the annual Rocky movies.
However, for the first time in many
years, Dye indicated there is some ele-
ment of optimism and he has a "sense
that there is an interest in better accoun-
tability and better management".
Whether that interest can generate
some meaningful changes in the mam-
moth goofs that cost Canadians millions
of dollars each year remains to be seen,
but at least there is some hope.
In the past, beleagured taxpayers
have assumed that the change depended
to a great extent on the civil service, but
Dye explains in this year's report that
many of the decisions which waste enor-
mous sums are made for political
reasons by elected officials.
One of the most glaring this year is
the decision to build a $68 million prison
in Prime Minister Brian Mulroney's
riding. Not only is that cost almost $16
million more than the estimate for the
original site, but Dye claims the correc-
tional institution isn't needed at all
because the nation has a surplus of jail
cells in Quebec.
No doubt some wag could suggest
who could fill those cells in view of the
pork barrel politics which appears to be
replacing mismanagement as public
enemy number one in Ottawa.
Thought provoking
Farm broadcaster Ross Daily
is quite correct in noting that
farmers have lost a large majori-
ty of their friends through the re-
cent decades as the population
along the concession roads
dwindles and the farm vote no
longer carries the impact it once
did.
However, he was among those
who had to be impressed with the
program conducted last week for
elementary school teachers in
Exeter. and while it remains to
he seen whether those in the au-
dience will become, new-found
allies of the farm community,
there is no doubt they all went
home with a much better
understanding of the current
agricultural scene.
While i have attended only a
few such professional develop-
ment day programs in the past.
i doubt that teachers have ever
had such a va{id and encompass-
ing program presented for their
edification
There was ample evidence that
Huron County farmers still have
a great many friends as over 80
individuals, businesses and com-
modity groups rallied to provide
produce, displays and other
materia{ to better acquaint
teachers of the current strengths
and weaknesses in agriculture.
The tone of the program was
quickly established in the emo-
tional address by Jack Wilkinson,
second vice-president of the On-
tario Federation of Agriculture.
The role teachers can play in
recognizing and reacting to the
stress some of their students may
be %rider was t"graphically
•
presented in terms that were im-
possible to misconstrue.
Itis comments.put into perspec-
tive the importance of the day
and no doubt altered con-
siderably the way in which other
exhibits and information were
received.
Daily's use of humor served to
punctuate and emphasize the not-
Batt'n
Around
...with
The Editor
so -funny things that are going on
in agriculture and the tremen-
dous number of social and moral
issues that the students in today's
classrooms will have to resolve.
if they are going' to resolve
them satisfactorily. it is im-
perative that they be given all the
information required to make
enlightened decisions.
One professional development
day does obviously not provide
teachers with the expertise
necessary to provide that infor-
mation. but it hopefully has pro-
vided the spark and challenge
that is needed to convince
teachers,y )f the important role
they can and must play.
To a considerable extent, the
program was presented to an au-
dience in which there were
'1
already many confirmed
believers. There were those who
could have testified that their off -
farm income as teachers was a
requirement at times to get over
some of the humps in their fami-
ly agricultural operations.
Many others have come from
rural backgrounds and hopefully
those who haven't recognize the
need to acquaint themselves with
the lifestyles of their students so
they can he effective and
understanding.
As the speakers noted, children
stepping off the buses from their
farm homes come from situa-
tions that are very diversified.
Old MacDonald's farm no longer
exists and the child who hears an
oink, oink here, represents a far
different set of circumstances
than the child who hears a moo,
moo there.
If teachers. as well as other
professionals in the community,
have to recognize and deal with
the stresses of those with whom
they work, it is necessary that
they know where those stresses
are most likely to originate.
The current agricultural situa-
tion is highly complex. Last
week's program organizers and
all who contributed should be
commended for initiating
challenges and deliberations in
which everyone in the communi-
ty must hecofne more
knowledgeable.
The generation in the
classroom will certainly have
many issues to resolve, but there
are just as many which must be
resolved before the task is hand-
ed over to them.
4)
Serving South Huron, North Middlesex
North Lambton Since 1873
Published by I.W. Eedy Publications Limited
REM) All ABOUT IT!
?OL1TICU\t WND WHO
HA1tT WRITTEN I\
BOOK TR1S1EA1!
A strange species
We are a strange species. We
can't be happy unless we
manipulate and change the world
we live in.
f. The Other creatures who share
this planet with us have little
trouble living the way nature in-
tended them to live. And not so
long ago, your ancestors and
mine were also able and willing
to adapt to whatever environ-
ment they were born into.
The Bedouins managed to
thrive in the desert as well as the
Inuit did in the Arctic. The
Nepalese were satisfied with
making their home on the Roof of.
the World - the Himalayas. And
the Dutch did well not only at but
below sea level.
Not us. We've got to turn
everything topsy-turvy. If we live
in a sand box, we dig irrigation
canals and pretend we're
somewhere else. If we live in a
marsh, we lay drainage pipes and
let the water run off. People on
islands build bridges or
causeways or tunnels.
Our family lives in a forest.
Looking at an aerial photograph
of our township, yob can hardly
find the few inhabited places that
dot the landscape made up of
bush, lakes and rivers.
Since time immemorial,
mankind has done very well in
the forest, from Cro-Magnon Man
to the Woodland Indians. Hun-
dreds of generations have come'
and gone who knew nothing but
the forest.
We should be glad to live in this
healthy, natural environment to-
day. And we would be contented
with it if somebody hadn't in-
vented the lawn mower and the
leaf rake.
Our home is surrounded by
stately trees, with maple, ash,
butternut and cedar
predominating. Throughout the
year we are proud of these trees.
They are picturesque, they give
us shade, they provide homes for
our feathered friends.
But in the fall, our trees sud-
denly become a problem to us, or
so we say. As soon as their splen-
did autumn colours are at the
peak, we must dispose of the dead
leaves that fall on our pride and
joy - our lawn. Because we think
that leaves mess up the place.
Ever since some tinkerer who
probably lived in a suburb of Lon-
don, England, invented a
machine that cuts grass faster
and more efficiently than a
sickle, the whole western world
has gone lawn crazy. Everybody
wants to live on a golf course.
That's the fashion.
Well, nuts to fashion! Elizabeth
has been hinting for three weeks
now. She leaves the rakes stan-
ding around, one at each door.
She starts to make little piles of
leaves on the patio and on the
gravel walks. And she draws my
attention to cleanly -raked lawns
in the neighbourhood. Frankly,
I'm tired of raking leaves. I don't
enjoy getting blisters, and I'm not
crazy about taking load after
enormous Load of dead leaves to
my "dumping site". I don't mind
cleaning up the flower beds, but
I do mind raking an acre of lawn.
I have just communicated with
my forest ancestors. They were
healthy, happy and relaxed forest
dwellers from way back. They
have convinced me that a natural
litter of leaves is more beautiful
than a lawn that has to be
pampered, cut, fertilized, raked
and cut again forever and over
and still has more dandelions,
clover, plantain and wild
strawberries per square meter
than grass.
From now.on, let the leaves fall
and provide us with a beautiful.
durable, soft carpet of natural lit-
ter. What is wrong with a house
surrounded by a forest floor? i1
will be so easy. No more noisy
lawn mowers, no more stooping
down to clip blades of grass with
dull edge shears, no more water-
ing, no more chemical fertilizer.
no more herbicides, no more
blisters. Easy.
On the other hand, there is one
hurdle to overcome, and that
won't be easy. 111 have to con-
vince Elizabeth that I'm not just
rationalizing. That J'rn not just
inventing all this stuff about
forest an$estors and ecological
environment because I'm too
lazy to rake the leaves. You
believe me, don't you? So why
can't she?
One room school
I was lucky enough to go to a
one -room schoolhouse for my last
year of elementary school. It was
one mile outside of Georgetown,
Ontario, right on Highway 7.
There were only three of us in
grade eight, none in grade seven,
but a whole raft in the lower
grades.
1 consider myself lucky
because of a different style of
teaching that was used in that
classroom. We senior students
were expected to be responsible
for others, to pitch in and help
with the little ones when we got
our own work finished and to help
supervise at recess by organizing
games. The teacher never got
outside at recess for yard duty.
She was too busy putting work on
the blackboards. if there was a
fight outside or a problem,
somebody would run in and get
her.
Since I only lived about a hun-
dred yards away i used to go
home for lunch. That's probably
the only reason my bacon got.
saved the day of the big snowball
fight. She had warned us about
throwing snowballs but I guess
the urge was too much that par-
ticular day. Anyway when I got
back to school 1 looked in the win -
By the
Way
by
Syd
Fletcher
dow. There were seven boys lin-
ed up by the blackboard and she
was going down the line, giving
each one of them the strap.
Ire those days the teacher was
rated in some large degree by the
quality of the Christmas concert
she put on. The last month before
Christmas everybody worked on
learning their little recitations
and on the night of the concert the
place was totally packed out. It
was one of *the big social events
of the year for the community.
I remember that the County
Library used to send out a big box
of about 200 books to the school
each year. 1 remember it because
1 ploughed my way through every
one of them that winter. It seem-
ed like a real gift to me to have
all those exciting books right
there in my own classroom. That
had never happened in any of the
city schools that i had attended.
That same year We itinerant
music teacher who came each
week took an interest in me. Sure
1 had sung in choirs of :nany
voices before but in this little
school i was made to feel impor-
tant. She took it upon herself to
register me in the Halton County
Music Festival and even
delivered me there herself. i won
a tiny gold medal which i still
have some thirty years later.
I'll not forget that little one
room school.
•