HomeMy WebLinkAboutClinton News-Record, 1984-11-14, Page 4r
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THE BLYTH STANDARD
J. HOWARD AITKEN - Publisher
SHELLEY MCPHEE - Editor
GARY HAIST - Advertising Manager
MARY ANN HOLLENBECK - Office Manager
MEMBER
Dicalev etiverti®1w0 retell
amenable ow request. Avis for
Rate tried. into. 141 affective
October 1, 1%13.
A
MEMBER
Hunger and death
Rev. Wilena Brown of the Varna and Goshen United. Churches is one of the
many local ministers who is working to help the desperately hungry people in
Africa.
She has spoken with local farmers, contacted elevators and talked about the
problem in her community.
"We need to use this opportunity to educate people," Rev. Brown said, explain-
ing that the serious need for food grains is not only a problem in Ethiopia.
While television reports have highlighted the tragedies in Ethiopia, further
reports state that the disaster and death is a widespread problem for at least 24
African countries.
Here, in a world that we can never imagine, people are literally falling in the
dust, too weak to walk, too weak to live, too weak to bury their dead. These peo-
ple are simply starving to death.
The ravages of years of drought on Africa is showing horrifying results. It's
estimated that more than 35 million people are starving there.
These problems, Rev. Brown noted, are not being caused by sudden disasters,
like floods or typhoons. These people live with famine and drought every day of
their short lives. The hunger and death don't go away.
It's a life that hopefully we'll never experience, but still the desperate situation
in Africa is a concern that our affluent western world must understand. Futher-
more, we must respond to their cries of help.
Around the world, governments and churches, charitable organizations and in-
dividuals are beginning to respond. Locally, farmers are donating food through
the Canadian Foodgrains Bank.
This organization is urging more farmers to donate their corn and more in-
dividuals to offer their financial support.
The bank is based on a responsible, honest partnership between seven
religious organizations. Started by the Mennonite Central Committee Canada, it
is now supported by the Canadian Baptist Federation, Canadian Lutheran World
Relief, Christian and Missionary Alliance, Christian Reformed World Relief.Com-
mittee of Canada, Pentecostal Assemblies of Canada and the United Church .
Foodgrains Bank is only one of many organizations across Canada attempting
to help the starving millions.
The desperate photographs and the startling figures have been well presented.
You and I can no longer ignore the situation in good conscience. -by S. McPhee
Scores of humanitarian organizations and
church groups across Canada are mobiliz-
ing funds to feed millions of famine victims
across Africa.
Here is where you can send you dona-
tions:
Baptist Federation of Canada, Sharing
Way, 219 St. George St., Toronto, Ont., M5R
2M2 tel. 922-4775.
Canadian Catholic Organization for
Development and Peace, 3028 Danforth
Ave., Toronto, Ont., M4C 1N2, tel. 698-7770.
Canadian Foodgrains Bank, 400-280 Smith
St., Winnipeg, Man., R3C 1K2, tel. 204-944-
1993.
Canadian Hunger Foundation, 323 Chapel
St., Ottawa, Ont., KIN 7Z2, tel. 613-563-4801
(development aid).
Canadian Lutheran World Relief, 1820 Arl-
ington St., Winnipeg, Man., R2X 1W4, tel
204-586-8558. •
Canadian Red Cross Society, 95 Wellesley
St., E., Toronto, Ont., M4Y 1H6, tel. 923-6692.
Canadian Save the Children Fund, 720
• Spadina Ave, (fourth floor), Toronto, Ont.,
M5S 2W3, tel. 960-3190
Canadian UNICEF Committee, 433 Mount
Pleasant Rd., Toronto, Ont. M4S 2L8,, tel 482-
4444.
CARE Canada, 1312 Bank St., Ottawa,
Ont., K1S 5H7,.tel. 613-521-7081.
Eritrean Relief ' Association, P.O. Box,
5027, Postal Station A, Toronto, Ont., M5W
1N4, tel. 922-7646.
Christian Reformed World Relief Com-
mittee of Canada, P.O. Box. 5070, Burl-
ington,, Ont., L7R 3Y8, tel. 1-637-3434.
Inter.. Pares, 58 Arthur St., Ottawa, Ont.,
K1.11 7B9, tel. 613-563-4801.
' Mennonite Central Committee (Ontario),
50 Kent Ave.,. Kitchener, Ont., tel. 519-745-
8458
Oxfam Canada, 175 Carlton St., Toronto,
Ont., M5A 2K3, tel 961-3935.
Presbyterian World Service and Develop-
ment Committee, 50 Wynford Dr., Don
Mills, Ont., M3C 1J7, tel. 441-1111.
Primate's World Relief and Development
Fund ( Anglican Church of Canada), 600 Jar-
vis St., Toronto, Ont. M4Y 2J6, tel. 924-9192.
Unitarian Service Committee,' 56 Sparks
St., Ottawa, Ont., KIP 5B1', tel. 6132846827.
. United Church of Canada, World
Outreach, 85 'St. Clair Ave., E., Toronto,
Ont., M4T 1M8, tel. 925-5931 (Ext. 241).
World Relief Canada, .P.O. Box 874 Station
B, Willowdale:; Ont., M2K 2R1, tel 494-9930.
World University Service of Canada, Box
3000, Station C, Ottawa, Ont., K1Y 4M8,'tel.
613-725-3121.
World Vision Canada, Box 2500,
Streetsville P.O., Mississauga, Ont., L5M
2H2, tel 826-7370.
KaIi
osc
Enough is enough. Today's trends are
taking outrageous, obsence and disgusting
to the brink.
I'm not talking about punk hairdos or Boy
George, that's really only harmless kid's
stuff. Heck, 20 years ago people though The
Beatles were outrageous and long hair was
revolting.
I survived it all, and don't seem to be any
worse for wear. 1i fact, I've developed a
certain high set of standards. I'm
responsible, honest and well adjusted to
boot.
Yes, I stumbled through the late '60s - the
time of youth rebellion, free love, wild
music, or as, Bette Midler proudly
proclaimed a time of, "Drugs, sex and rock
'n roll."
I was an average rural teenager,
interested and involved in the culture of my
day, but responsible enough to know the
limits.
It seems today that fewer people,
teenagers or adults, believe in limits,
Many seem to think the challenge of the
decade is to be as offensive and insulting as
possible.
From England this week we have a new
disgusting video game called Di's Baby. One
part shows Prince Charles dodging dirty
diapers. Another has the prince dodging
obstacles in an attempt to get to his wife
Behind The Scenes
By Keith Roulston
R ights and wrongs
While one of the signs of civilization in a
modern country is the enshrinement and
protection of human rights, for us as in-
dividuals these .days too many rights can
make it wrong.
We've bleen hung up on rights, at least
since the • 1960s ( and maybe before but my
memory is getting bad). We got worried •
about the rights of the blacks in the U.S. first
and quickly moved on to other disadvantag-
ed groups closer to home. We worried about
the rights of the French. inside and outside
Quebec, the rights ' of native people, the '
rights of visible minorities, the rights of
women, the rights of- children, the rights of
consumers, the rights of citizens against,
harassment from perlice, and, recently, the
rights of policemen from harassment by
citizens.
While each of these causes is just in itself,
after two decades we seem to have ingrain-
ed the rights issue so deeply in our con-
sciousness that people seem to go around
with their antennae constantly out looking
for something that violates their "rights".
"Gimme my rights damrnit or I'll bash you
in the nose" seems to be a growing unstated
code for our population.
We're reverting to our childhood, really.
Ask a child to do something and he'll likely
say "that's not fair, how come I've always
got to do the work around here. How come
she gets to watch television so much." And
on and 'on.
We can, all of us, see people who earn
more than us for doing a job that isn't that
much more difficult. We can see people who
cheat on taxes and get away. with it. We can
pQ
By Shelley McPhee
Diana, seen lying on a bed calling his name.
Another segment has the royal couple
dodging photographers on their way to the
hospital for the birth on Prince Harry, their
second child. In the third part, The Delivery,
players must push buttons to save Diana
from an anesthetic spinal injection.
And from Hollywood we have a new
Christmas movie, Silent Night, Deadly
Night. .
It depicts a homicidal maniac, dressed in
a Santa suit. The film is about a boy who
witnesses the killing of his parents by a man
dressed as Santa Claus. The boy goes insane
and is committed to a mental hospital.
Eventually he escapes, but proceeds to
repeat the crimes over and over again while
dressed as Santa Claus.
Personally, I find these as offensive as
degrading as pornography. Surely films like
Silent Night, Deadly Night are a
psychologically damaging.
Are we testing the brink of obscenity and
morality? More and more I'm beginning to
think we are.
Or perhaps am I just a victim of my age -
adulthood? Back in the 1960s
"establishment" said mini skirts were
indecent, Jimi Hendrix music was mind
bending, long hair was unhealthy and
psychedelic lights damaged your eyes.
In the 1950s Elvis shocked society. The
jitterbug raised eyebrows in the '40s. Even
the 1920s were considered wild.
Where did it all begin? When did innocent
fun turn into decadence?
AU I know is that this '60s creation,. is
showing her age. I'm developing moral
standards that in my youth were "a
bummer."
+++
There is some good news to report this
week - Darryl Fox, the brilliant young son of
Tom and Carol Fox of Clinton recently won
scholarships and prizes for Huron College's
University of Western Ontario, London.
For the second year in a row, Darryl was
the recipient of The Col. Ibbotson Leonard
Huron College Entrance Scholarship,
valued at $1,500 in economics, history and
philosphy.
As well, another Clintonian, Judy Carter,
won two English awards and the O-Pee-Chee
Ltd. Award for fourth year honor students.
These scholarships are awarded to
students who maintain an average of at
least 80 per cent.
+ + +
There's still time to support the Red Cross
Blood Donor Clinic. It's being held today
(November 14) at CHSS from 1:30 to 4:30
p.m. and again from 6 to 8:30 p.m.
The Clinton Kinettes are helping to
sponsor this "life saving" clinic.
see people who get preferential treatment
from the boss or some government agency.
We can see people who seem to be leaches
on society getting along seemingly better
than we are. We can see businesses we're
sure are cheating us. •
We've got two choices. We can whimper
and complain about it and pull back into our
shells, or we can push the worries about
things that really don't have to effect our
lives aside and get on with -things.
Long ago when, as a child, I faced several
months in bed convalescing from an illness,
my mother gave me this choice: "You can
look around and see all the people who are
better off than you and feel sorry for
yourself, or you can look around and see the
people who are worse off than you and be
thankful for what you've got:"
Feeling sorry tor yourself is probably the
most useless waste of energy in the world.
We all fall into it at times but the successful
people in the world, work hard to beat it
back and get on with their lives.
Too many people today seem to be concen-
trating on their problems instead of their
blessings: Too many people are . saying
"What's the use? The government's against
me, big business is against me, the rules are
all stacked against me. What's the use of
trying?" Their's is a self-fulfilling pro-
phecy. If you don't try, you won't succeed.
Even in the midst of the bad tirnes, we
have more blessings than nearly anyone
else in the world. Feeling sorry for
ourselves, worrying too much about our
"rights" for more, is a crime.
This photograph was taken minutes before the demolition crew placed throughout the bridge were detonated and the old structure
vacated the' area around Forester's Bridge. At dusk; the charges fell into the Maitland River. (James Friel photo)
iig.arand
Spice
Sleeping in a box -car
IT'S been a long way from there to here.
Just 40 years ago, I was lying on the floor of
a box -car in north-east Holland, beaten up
and tied up. And half -frozen. And half-
starved.
Today, I'm sitting in a big, brick house,
with the furnace pumping away, a
refrigerator stuffed with food, and my
choice of three soft, warm'beds.
Forty years seems like eternity if you're a
teenager, but they've gone by like the wink-
ing of an eye, as most old-timers will con-
firm.
Back then, I was tied up because I'd tried .
to escape. It wasn't pleasant. They had no
rope, so they tied my wrists and ankles with
wire.
I was beaten up because I'd managed to
pilfer a sandwich, a pipe and tobacco from
the guards' overcoat pockets when they
weren't looking, and these, along with a
foot -long piece of lead pipe, popped out of
my battle -dress jacket when the sergeant in
charge of the guards gave me a round -house
clout on the ear just before escorting me
back onto the train headed for Germany.
Served me right. I should haveignored all
that stuff we were taught in training: "It's
an officer's duty to try to escape," and gone
quietly off to sit out the . war, which I did
anyway, in the long run.
But the next few weeks weren't pleasant. I
couldn't walk, because my left kneecap was
kicked out of kilter. Every bone in my body
ached. My face looked like a bowl of
borstch, as I discovered when,a "friendly"
guard let me look in his shaving mirror, '
Worst of all, there was nothing to read.
'By Bill Smiley
When I have nothing w react, 1 start pacing
the walls. gut -I couldn't pace the walls
because I was on the floor, and tied up.
anyway, the light wasn't so good. One little
barred window,
Perhaps even the worstest of all was my
daily ablutions. And I don't mean washing
ori ;s face and armpits. I had to be lugged
out,of the box -car by a guard, since only one
leg was working, helped down the steps, and
ushered to the railway bank.
Ever try to do your dailies (and 1 don't
mean push-ups), with two hands plantedin
cinders, one leg stuck straight ahead,- the
other propping you up, and a guy pointing a
revolverat you? It's a wonder I wasn't ,con-
stipated for life.
One day the guard almost shot me. I never
understood why. He was a rather decent
young chap, about 21, blond, spoke a bit of
French, so that we could communicate in a
rudimentary way. He was a paratrooper
who had been wounded in France and
seconded to the mundane' job of guarding
Allied prisoners.
He hadn't taken part in the kicking 'and
punching at the railway station, for his own
reasons. Perhaps pride. He was a soldier,
not a member of the Feldgendarmerie.
But this day he was out of sorts. Perhaps
sick of being a male nurse. His eyes got very
blue- and very cold, and he cocked his
revolver. All I could do was turn the big
baby -blues on him and mutely appeal. It
worked. He muttered something, probably a
curse, holstered his gun, and shoved me
roughly back into the box -car.
Why did Hans Schmidt (his real name)
not kill me that day? He was fed up with a
job on which rations were minimal, comfort
almost non-existent, and duties boring and
demeaning.
There was another Schmidt in the detail,
Alfred. He was a different kettle, though he,
too, was a wounded paratrooper. He was as
dark as Hans was fair, as sour as Hans was
sunny. He would have shot me, in the same
mood, and written it off as "killed while at-
tempting to escape." Luck of the draw.
Another hairy incident in that October, 40
years ago, was the night the train was at-
tacked by a British fighter-bomber, pro-
bably a Mosquito, perhaps, even navigated
by my old friend Dave. McIntosh.
I was dozing, on and off (you didna sleep
much, tied up, on the wooden floor of a box-
car) when there was a great screeching of
brakes, a wild shouting from the guards as
they bailed out of the train, then the roar of
an engine and the sound of cannon -fire as
the attacker swept up and down the train,
strafing
As you can understand, I wasn't hit, and
the bums in the aircraft didn't even ptit the
train out of commission, but have you ever
seen a man curled up -into a shape about the
size of a little finger? That was ich.
Sorry if I've bored you with these
reminiscences. But they are all as clear, or
moreso, than what I had for lunch today.
Forty years. Time to complete the war,
finish university, marriage, children, 11
years as.a weekly editor, 23 years as a
teacher, a year in The San for non-existent
T.B., and 30 years as a columnist.
I couldn't hack all that today. But I can go
to bed and say, "This beats the hell out of
sleeping in a box -car."
Canadian flag of poppies at service
CLINTON - On Nov. 9, the pupils and
teachers of the Clinton and'District Chris-
tian School held their Remembrance Day.
The service was held in the gymatorium.
The walls had been decorated with the art
from various classes.
Poppies, crosses and scenes of war sur-
rounded the children On one side of the
stage hung the flags of France, Holland and
Britain. Above these flags was placed a
huge Canadian flag made of poppies. On the
other side of the stage hung the silhouette of
a.soldier running into battle.
After welcoming the students, Mr. Bos,
the Grade 5 teacher, led the students in a
prayer. All stood to sing 0 Canada
whereupon four Grade 5 and 6 students
recited the poem "A Reason to
Remember". The poem suggested that
unless one actively pursues and lives a life
of love and peace, then "remembrance" is a
farce.
• In his response to the poem, Mr. Bos
pointed to the many privileges that have
come with peace. Peace, in Canada, has
brought with it the freedom to worship and
to serve ones God as one sees fit. Canadian
bravery and sacrifice were touted as the
reasons that peace and prosperity had once
again come to war ravaged Europe.
After some Grade 3 pupils had presented
the story of John McCrae and the poem "In
Flanders Fields" a memorial wreath was
laid. The service continued with the Last
Post, a moment of silence and the Reveille.
The students sang the traditional "Oh God
our Help in Ages Past", accompanied by -
Miss Dorothy Prinzen on the piano.
Robert Roorda read his own poem "War is
Red". Mr. Dos, with the help of Jody
Werkema and 'April Ten Pas, student
guitarists, taught the student body the song
"Last Night I had the Strangest Dream".
After the song, all watched an inspiring
film "The Canadians are Coming". This
film, provided by the local Legion, por-
trayed the liberation of Holland by the- Cana-
dian troops in the Second World War. It also
showed how the Dutch have, since then,
meticulously taken care of . the war
cemeteries in a gesture of deep gratitude.tr-ie
In her poem and in his diary
Slotegraaf and Richard Bruinsma
demonstrated again both the atrocities of
war and ones subsequent need to remember
to be grateful for peace.
• The service was closed in prayer by the
vice-principal Mr. L. Uyl. All returned to
classes to be dismissed to their buses
perhaps more than every ready to begin the
Remembrance Day' weekend.