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The Wingham Advance-Times, 1972-03-23, Page 9•a� r • •0 v r A Hearty Welcome to Wingham This week several hundred young hock- ey players, along with their coaches, mana- gers and fans, will spend considerable time in our town as Midget teams compete for the- honors hehonors involved in the Lockridge Memorial Trophy Tournament. What a tremendous op- portunity we have to impress on all these visitors that Wingham is a refreshing town, peopled with folks who can justly claim hos- pitality as one of their cardinal virtues. Every worthwhile community seeksthe high esteem of outsiders—an ambition more pronounced today than ever before -because, whether we like it or not, there is a keen spirit of competition: among the growing communities which lie beyond the direct in- fluence of the large cities. Under average conditions we are seldom aware of the stran- ger in our midst. He may be a casual shopper or even the family group stopping only for a snack in a local restaurant or to find a wash- room for the youngsters. Our reputation thus usually hangs on the general air of friendliness which is common to most of our business people. This week, however, we are really under test, for our visitors come in all ages and from a multi- tude of communities and backgrounds, in- cluding those who are here from across the border. Their contact. with the people of Wingham will not be limited to stores and eating places. They will be guests in many local homes, where they will learn first-hand the calibre of family life in a small commun- ity. • There is little to fear about the conse- quences of the friendly invasion. The vast majority of our visitors will leave town at the end of this week with new friends and happy memories. Let's give every one of them, players and adults alike, the best we have. A hearty welcome to every one of yowtt-and may you soon come back to us. The Last Band Lives On The honors which were extended to Bandmaster and Mrs. Bell at the Salvation Army. Citadel on Sunday evening are not only`highly deserved, but serve as a re- minder of a form of cultural enjoyment which -is rapidly disappearing from rural communities. The local Salvation Army band had its origins many years ago and owes ifs present excellence of quality to a series of able leaders who have contributed their talents over the years. Mr. Bell, we understand, has been an outstanding direc- tor and has thus perpetuated the fine reputa- tion previously earned by this organization. It is rather sad to reflect, however, that the Salvation Army band is the one -and only musical group of its kind in town, despite the fact that for many years the people of this community loyally supported bands, both' junior- and adult. The training offered by those bands contributed in no small measure to the pleasure and cultural development of both- participants and audiences. • This, situation, of course, is not peculiar, to our town alone.' Most places this size, and even many smaller ones, had excellent brass - bands in years gone by and most of them have disappeared. There must be a fortune in unused instruments lying ` about in the back rooms of town halls and public a`Udi- toriums. A changing -way of life has speller, the doom of these bands. Television and its hold on young people may be one of the major contributing factors, brut there are several others—totally organized winter and sum- mer sports for those in early years; bur- geoning sports such as curling and golf for those who might otherwise have time to or- ganize and lead the bands; the multiplicity of. organisations for adults and the busy life - V1 of the average teen-ager are all party to the disappearance of the brass band. - Perhaps the loss is not as great as we be- lieve. Music may have been supplanted with something more vital to the development of the community—but we doubt it. The town - band was usually a cohesive element and a source of civic pride, as well as a training ground for those who loved music. So far we have seen nothing which etctually replaces the brass bund of yesteryear. Before we leave • the subject of small town bands and the place they occupied there should be room for one amusing anec- dote. From the very earliest years of settle- ment in this part of Ontario there was a very active brass band centred on the hamlet of Moltke, a few miles west of the village of Ay- ton. Formed among a group of men who still harbored the sincere love of band music in- herent in their German-born ancestors, the Moltke band was on call for events far and wide—and continued its popularity until the late forties. On one occasion the band was playing on an open platform in the village of Ayton and some of the bright youngsters of ,that place decided it was time for a little disruption. After a hasty visit to one of the local stores six or eight of the lads perched themselves on the edge of the platform, right 'in front of the perspiring musicians, and thoughtfully sucked away on the freshly -sliced lemons they had purchased. The result was that the band music came to a bubbling halt when the horns began to fill with the torrents of un- wanted saliva the sight of the lemon=suckers. brought forth. There was nothing cultural about that exercise, but it remained an uproarious joke for many years to come. Tears upon the .Auld Sod One of the best -remembered sentences in the Bible is the shortest, one: "Jesus. wept."_ That evidence of divine grief was mani- fest 2,000 years ago, when Our Lord trod this earth in human form, and the fate of Ks be- loved Jerusalem brought forth the anguislgf His soul. How He must weep today when He looks down upon his children•in• unhappy Ire- land! . The agonies of ,civil strife in places like •' Biafra and Pakistan are a little easier to comprehend. They -result basically from deep religious or tribal differences among people who have little mental maturity upon which to base opinion or emotion. In Ireland there is a tragic difference. The bloodshed and terror continues between brothers and sisters of the same family—all deeply ' committed followers -of. Christ, separated only by differences of doctrine which Christians in many other parts of the world are rapidly finding to be surmount- able. None of us who live so far from the scene of violence can fully understand the hatreds r V • which have perpetuated the Irish troubles for the past five centuries. It is evident of course, that religious differences have be- come political schisms of a very deep sort. If the hatred of the Irish was levelled only at the English, the dispute would be easier to understand, for Ireland has suffered under the heavy hand of the conqueror on many oc- casions in the past. One cannot help wondering, however, about the conscience of the Rev. Ian Paisley, the renegade "free" Presbyterian minister, whose fiery eloquence re-initiated all the old hatreds a few years back. His words, of course, fell on, open ears. His independent church has one of the largest congregatj'ons in Europe. The acts of violence which have char- acterized the Irish war within the past few weeks equal in barbarity anything per- petuated by the Pakistanis. Bombs planted in restaurants and bus terminals kill and maim women, children—whoever happens to be within reach of the flying shrapnel. What sort of freedom can be worth such a price? No Free Rides The lazy folk who call directory assist- ance instead of looking up phone numbers in the directory may soon have to pay for the luxury, The Financial Post predicts. And the _sneaky ones who transmit messages by de- liberately, refusing to complete long distance phone calls may be caught too. While'other' telephone companies watch closely, Quebec Telephone, with headquarters at Rimouski, will be slapping 25c charges on both these practices. The company, which serves Eastern Quebec, recently gained approval for the extra charge from the Quebec Public Serv- ices Board. The board's judgment may set an important precedent in itsconclusionthat these services are "special" and so the costs associated with them should, in principle, be borne by the users rather than by all tele- phone subscribers. THE WINGHAM ADVANCE -TIMES Published at Wingham, Ontario, by Wenger jlros. Limited. Barry Wenger, President - Robert O. Wenger,' Secretary -Treasurer Member Auuit Bureau of --Circulations Member Canadian and Ontario Weekly Newspaper Associations. Subscription Rate: on 1 000 ayear,$5.25 for six months, in Unit- i States •$i in advance. Subscription TH�1 P� ar anteed �a a Gu Second Class Mail Registration No .0821 Return Pos g i EN ALLEN • HAPPY PERSONALITY Peter is a lovable 10-year►old with an outgoing, friendly disposition: He seems younger than his age, perhaps because he comes from an extremely deprived background. It was the sort of situation where a child is left lying in his crib with nobody paying any attention to him. This young boy was four before he learned to walk. Not that he had any physical disa bili'ty, but he had no opportunity or encouragement to try. There were many otherskills he did not learn and things he did not know, so he has. never scored well in intelligence tests. N ow in a good foster home and -in the stimulating atmosphere of a special school he has shown marked improvement both physically and. mentally. The psychologist who has tested him is impressed with his personality and feels he has not yet reached his potential. Peter is a healthy, good-looking'boy of Anglo-Saxon descent, with brown eye and ,dark hair. A dubs find him good company with his easy conversation. He visits many families in the vicinity of his foster home and he loves to help the neighbors do chores around the house or garden. He gets on well with children of all ages. A sensitive boy, Peter needs a w aro, relaxed home where there are no academic pressures. He can (it into a family with children either older or younger than himself. To inquire about adopting Peter, please write to Today's Child, Box 888, Station K, Toronto. For general adopt ion information ask your Children's Aid Society. New films at County Libr�i- The Huron County Library at Goderich has acquired several new films which may be of in- terest to members of organiza- tions or groups in planning pro- grams. - "The Best Dam Fiddler from Calabogie to Kaladar." Black and white, 49 minutes. Kate Reid and Chris Wiggins star as hus- band and wife, parents of seven children, living in a backwoods logging community. The film is a study of the general effect of poverty on family life., It is also a character study of a man—bush- worker, oddjobber as well as fiddler—who rejects any offer of social aid as the family is threatened with the financial difficulties brought on by sick- ness, etc. The film shows the effect of deprivation,and isolation on one rural Canadian "family and one realizes the nature and extent of poverty outside the city limits,. "Paradise Lost". Color, four minutes. • Although but four minutes in length, this sprightly animated film in brightly -colored cut-outs epitomizes the threat that hovers over all' creatures of Watching a friend die: the world posed there by the 4. great despoiler, Man. It is a story ' ..without words but its message is very clear and one that will linger in the. minds of viewers young and old. "Sylvan Sketches". Color, 11 minutes. This is a visually poetic journey through nature using Bo - lex cameras and lenses. The pageant of the seasons begins with winter with brilliant winter scenes; spring, summer and fall follow in quietly beautiful Se- quence. This is an International Film. Festival award winner. "A Special Place". This film, sponsored by the National Parks Branch of the Department of In- dian Affairs and Northern De- velopment, offers a glimpse of the work and training of wardens in a selection of national parks across Canada. Also available to Huron County residents: Residents, either through the County Library or• any of the Bluewater bowling proprietors may borrow a series of instructional slides on five -pin bowling. These were produced by the Master Bowlers' Association The Souris Plaindeale tnJjain Abbanctogintto Wingham, Ontario, Thursday, March 23, W72 Old Friends the Purest Gold Like most people who have one foot in the gave and the other foot butting out the cigarette that's putting them there, .° be- come increasingly averse to • change. • Why can't my wife be the way she was when I married het: sweet, dumb, innocent and be- lieving that my opinion was more important than. hers? Why can't my daughsay, "Yes, dad", in- stead of, "Look, Dad"? Why can't my son do something be- sides shake his head in agony when f expound on the virtues of hard work, meeting your pay- ments, and all that 'crud? It seems that the only people with whom I am still on the same wave -length are old friends. Now, I'm not going to give you an analogy comparing old friends 4, to old wine. Although I do think they should be kept in the same place: a cool, dry spot, to be brought out at theexact moment. I have brought out some of my old friends at the wrong moment. One in particular, can wreak havoc with my domestic rela- tions. We're having a lovely bar- becue, for example. His kids are drifting in and out. And then he says something like, "Smiler, re- member the night we picked up those two..." And I leap smartly into the breach and holler, "Oh, yeah, those two unusual clam- shells at the beach", while his and my wife exchange looks and make mental notes and prepare future third-degrees. However, as they say when they don't know any other way of getting back on the track, some old friends preserve not only their sanity, but their sense of humour. Recently had -a letter from such. Dave McIntosh, a toiler in the bleached vineyards of journa- lism. He says he has been writing politics in Ottawa for the Cana- dian Press for two centuries. This is known as understatement, or litotes, . if you are taking English from me, and aren't you glad you aren't? We went . to University to - /goad come ? • SE NP SECTION gether, "fought" (mostly our way into the Regent Palace in London) together, and he set me up with the coldest woman I have ever met, when he couldn't keep a date and had me fill in. Dave was the only .non -freak in North House, which sounds like something out of Dickens, and was. A "residence". It sounds like a modern euphemisrn mean- ing someplace you are put away. Many of the inhabitants of the men's residence should have been put away then, and some have been since. Which proves nothing. The "jocks" didn't like him, because he laughed at them. If you are not up on the latest slang, jocks were the, in those days, crew-cut boys who knew that the way to get ahead was to be on the team, marry the right girl, and kick the right people in the face as you climbed the ladder. They, unfortunately, are still with us. The only difference is the ferocity of their sideburns, as compared with the shortness of their crew- cut. The aesthetes didn't like' him, because he laughed at them. If you are not up on aesthetes, they are the people who chuckle over the latest vicious review of a play, who parrot anyone who has ever uttered a bon mot, who are seen at all the right places, but couldn't write a paragraph or a scene, or a poem. They are the flies who buzz around a carcass. It must be dead. If it shows signs of life, they shriek with alarm and retreat into generalities,like "Well, after all, he's only doing his own thing:" If his "thing" is vomiting on the carpet, that's fine. „ Sorry, chaps. Didn't mean. to get mean. I have a toothache. Mac and I became friendly be- cause I was the only non -freak in Middle House. We were talking about old friends. And in 'his letter, Dave said something that struck me. He said, "Weeklies are a gold mine." He's right. And that Dings me .to another tl 7 old friend my favourite weekly. Naturally, it's the, weekly of which I used to be editor. It was with great delight that I read .re- cently a letter to the editor in said weekly. It stated, "The former editors (that's me) were gentle- men." I ague. Latest issue states that Bill Smiley is "a fine manand a great writer." I think the writer of the letter thus proclaiming has either a drinking or a mental problem, but I don't even care. Although I think it might have been a fine writer and a great man. Another gem, same issue. Classified ad: "Notice: Would the person who got my gloves from my car Thursday evening and left me two pounds of butter please phone..." A local correspondent begins, "Hi, dears, let's see what's on the old swizzle stick this week..." A lady who has never even licked a swizzle stick, I swear it. It's gold, all right. Blind skiers tour area near Genevo It was off to• ski school in the Swiss Alps for the Ski Hawks, a group of skiing enthusiasts who are all blind. Ten of the club's 22 members spent March 11-18 at Les Diabler- ets, near Geneva, with Swiss blind skiers improving their ski- ing skills, touripg the area, and sampling the local cuisine. "This is the first time that a group of blind skiers from Can- ada have had the opportunity to ,ski outside of the country with . other blind skiers," says D. S. Hayter, Recreation Supervisor; £The Canadian National Institute for the Blind. "Hopefully such a venture will encourage more blind people to take up the sport." The Ski Hawks originated sev- eral years ago. 'Every Monday night they are driven by volun- teers to Uplands Ski Hole in Thornhill. Each blind skier is ac- companied by a ski instructor, who skis either beside or in front of the skier and guides him ver- bally to the bottom. "Skiing is not as 'difficult for blind persons as most people think," explains Mr. • Hayter. "It's just . as important for them to try everything within their limits as it is for the sighted." The ski week was financed by a $3,500 grant from the Fitness and Amateur Sports Directorate. Representatives from Swiss Air, who prompted the venture, spon- sored two guides to accompany the blind skiers. There are three other clubs for blind skiers in Canada, two in Vancouver, British Columbia and one in Sudbury, Ontario. The difference between "she's good looking" and "she's looking good" is about 20 years and 40 'SHOW COME THE WELCOME MAT /5 GONE?' pounds. Excerpts from a column by Garth Stouffer Brandon, Man., Sun associate editor I stood at the bedside of a dying friend on Friday. . The "friend," of course, is the Souris Plaindealer; (which announced in a front-page story Nov. 24 that it would suspend. publication indefinitely) a weekly newspaper that was able to germinate in the fledgling community of Glenwood -cum -Souris four -score of years ago, that managed to put down roots enough to survive a succession of wars, droughts, depressions and even some' good years. Having been through the weekly business for quite a num- ber of years, and being a guy who finds the weekly press impor- tant to the continued successofa community, I think that the people of Souris are, probably quite honest when they step inside the doors of The Plaindealer office, point to the story on page 1 and tell Reg Sanderson (publisher -editor) : "I don't like that..." Many will find a loss in the absence of the paper; many will be quick to lay blame at the feet of any number of people, the publishers, advertisers, opponents, etc., but how many will take some of the blame for themselves? For some reason, a paper, particularly a weekly paper, is one of those regular miracles that people miss only when it fails to occur on tiflhe. A newspaper that lands in the mailbox 52 times a year is taken for granted... butone that fails to appear becomes impor- tant all of a sudden, and people begin to ask "why?" and they ."don't like it" because they miss something they have taken to be as regular as the changes in the shape and size of the moon. The newspaper game is a strange one. People don't jump into it because they want to make a fortune, or if that is a reason for some getting into the game they darned soon learn that the hope is never likely to materialize and they get into something else. In a small community, a weekly newspaper is almost as personal as the bedroom, as easy to like as one of the kids, as easy to dislike as an elected official... as familiar as your wife and as unknown as the back side of the moon... and the guy who makes the paper all of these things to all of the subscribers is a character—generally a printer by trade --who spends some of the profit his job printing plant can make and much of his own personal time and effort in putting out the weekly rag. Generally, the effort of publishing a paper is something the editor enjoys. When, as Reg Sanderson admitted last week, enough worms appear in the apple to take the joy out of the•ljob, then sitting in the editor's office can be like an introduction to hell. • And with increasing regularity across Western Canada we can see the combinatibn of agony and downright loss of income become just more than that dreamer in the editor's chair can face. I would venture to say that The Plaindealer is much more important to Souris and Community today, facing its last pub- lication date on Wednesday.., than it has been for several years . at least in the minds of many residents of the area. I know that you can find many who are ready to shed a tea at the loss of the voice of the community, a voice that can't b� replaced at the polls. There will be discussions in Souris about what should be done, about what could be done to keep the paper in publication ... but maybe the discussions are too late. Souris isn't going to be the last Manitoba town to have a weekly paper die either, I'm afraid, because the illness that caused The Plaindealer to go out of business isto be found in many other plants. There are other editors who wish they had the nerve to tell their customers, their friends, and their opponents, that the time has come to write "30" to the career of the weekly. I am still satisfied that the weekly paper has a place in the modern world. Communities across North America are proving that there is a hunger for the personal type of journalism that only a community -oriented weekly paper can provide. But communities must deserve and want such a paper, if such a paper is to survive. Obviously Souris didn't care enough. Some of the citizens of the community continued to demand publicity for the things in which they were interested, but their interest didn't go so far as to make sure that the local paper got a piece of the action in the guise of advertisements or printing orders. The Plaindealer is to be suspended. A state of suspension isn't necessarily death. , . but it will take more than tears to make the paper live again. It will take the desire, interest, col operation, support and respect of a community. It's your ball game, Souris. What are you going to do?