Viewpoints Hoke Co, is addressing its problems There is little question that poverty exists in Hoke County. It is a disease that affects the lives of about a fifth of this county's residents, of whom almost half are under the age of 17. However, Hoke County is not unique and by no means has cornered the market on being poor. Despite the Reagan Administration's pronounce ment to the contrary, poverty is a national prob lem. The disease is common throughout the rural south, where, like in Hoke County, most of its victims are able to endure it. In more urban areas, the poor, many of whom are visible sleeping in doorways and on manhole covers, are not as lucky and life is perhaps harder. Although problems exist in Hoke County, there are strong signs that efforts are being made to find solutions and to improve the quality of life here. Because of the recent negative press about Hoke in a Cumberland County newspaper, we feel it is appropriate to note some of the bright improvements which are underway: ?In the last few months, a group of citizens has been meeting weekly to help upgrade the county's already good schools. As part of this 20 member committee's study.it was noted recently that one county school needs replacing in the next five years and another should be remodeled. Neither school is considered "unsafe," and com mittee members are outlining a financial plan for the improvements, which will more than likely be made within the time frame. ?Under the leadership of Superintendent Dr. Robert Nelson, a program has been launched to emphasize what's good about the Hoke County schools and to make weak points better. Current ly college prep students have little problem attending the institution of their choice. Once in college, Hoke students also seem to hold their own academically. New equipment is being pur chased and improvements are being made to the county's vocational program which is already superior to many in the state. Special emphasis is being placed on preparing pupils for achievement testing, and as a result, scores are expected to go up. Hoke schools also have a cultural arts pro gram which is better than most in the state, in cluding ones offered by much larger districts. ?A satellite branch of Sandhills Community College appears likely to occupy the old Bank of Raeford building on Main Street. Chamber of Commerce members and others see the college as a shot in the arm for downtown and a first step in revitalizing the area. H Who ov u-b c\vdi noV ^ppreci^c Vne \Aa.rc\rN VO C)b^cr\/cr-TvrA eb SrV\C.\e. Of\ Poor V\W\e_ V\oVe Co. VOe. V^ve 4o real uo^erc. VV\ Vjjr\YrA?~, ^he nox'be , Vhe \ra^\C. VO^^A V^eVAcr ^oa^j ^ Vo V^x*her d^vj "VV^n "\o vjorvV-e, ^>nv article- oc\ VV\e. ^Vvc^V o? VAoKc. Co ?. Ther\ VhefC -Vv-^e V^sc^YvV *b Dtckuxi Pms. Inc.. Paul DKkion. Prev 119 W. Ehvood Avenue, P.O. Bo* 550 Raeford. N.C. 11116 Subscription Ram In Advance la Count) Per Year?510 00 6 Months?55 00 Out of Count) Pet Year?$12.00 6 Monlhi?56.00 LOUIS H. EOG1EMA V JR. . Publisher WARREN N.JOHNSTON Editor HENRY L. BLUE ... Production Supervisor MRS. PAUL DICKSON Socket) Editor SAM C. MORRIS Contributing Editor ANN WEBB Advertising Representative 2nd Cla* PuVife at Raeford. N.C. ILSPS JM-140) A good meal will always clear a bad head By Warren Johnston The Marines had landed at Fort Bragg. They had cranked up the big guns. After days of listening to the chandelier rattle and the plaster crack, my wife began to complain. "We need to get out of town. All this target practice has given me a headache, and I'm tired of your Groucho Marx jokes about military spending," she said. For several days, each time a shell exploded, 1 would act like I was smoking a cigar, raise my eyebrows and say something like: "Is that a thunderstorm I hear, or is it just our tax dollars at work?" I'll admit that after the fifteenth time, the routine may have lost some of it humorous edge, but that was no reason for her to hurl the cat across the room at me. "You think that you are tired of the jokes, what about the cat?" 1 asked, removing the unnerved feline from the window curtain where he was hanging . It was at this juncture, and just as 1 was launching into a discourse on the devasting effect "die spring shelling and the Sand hills pollens had on the rinut cavities, that the telephone rang. ??We've been invited to spend an evening in a room full of food fdkott," I told my wife as I hung up the telephone. The Puppy Papers Someone, who was not looking for any excuse to get out of town and away from the distant thunder and the eye-watering pollens, might have questioned the planned agenda, but not my wife. She was packed and in the car within moments. "What's a food editor and where are we going?" she asked, after we had been driving for about an hour. I had also been anxious to escape the effects of the mock war zone, and had failed to get all the details. All I knew was that the event would be held at the Pawleys Island Inn and would be the beginning of a long series of celebrations scheduled to commemorate the first harvest of crawfish from South Carolina's coastal rice fields. Most food editors that I know take their work very seriously, and it shows. So being in a room full of them might be a little like, being cooped up with a bunch of overweight life-size Tweedledum and Tweedledee dolls, 1 told my wife on the drive down. A? it turned out, we had foolishly underestimated our hosts Louis and Marlene Osteen. We knew the Osteens had a long history of throwing pretty good crawfish celebrations, and we had expected a fine time. But what we got was one of those evenings seen in few places outside of Camelot or the pages of magazines with French names. The affair kicked off with cocktails accompanied by platters of mussels, mounds of crabmeat and an assortment of fine cheeses. We moved to a private dining room. Some of the food editors were already beginning to glow with anticipation. By the end of the evening they would be overcome with exuberance, the fine Califor nia wines served with each course and the after-dinner brandy. The feast began with Bulls Bay oysters on the half-shell, which were topped with local caviar. Then came a light broth with Winyah Bay sturgeon, which was followed by an exceptional salad, shad roe garnished with grits and finally breasts of squab served on homemade pasta. For dessert there was a choice of apples baked in pastry or napoleons. It was one of those rare and special evenings. The next day, on the drive back to Raeford, instead of counting cows, my wife and I fondly remembered each course, noted that our sinus headaches had disappeared and wondered if the food editors had had a good time.