Opinion fbgt
THE BRUNSWKX$KACON
Edward M. Sweat! and Carolyn H. Sweatt
Edward M. Sweatt
Lynn S. Carlson Managing Editor
Susan Usher Jtowi Editor
Doug Rutter .. Sporta Erfffnr
Ertc Carlson St^ff Writer
Mary Potts & Peggy Earwood Office Managers
Carolyn H. Sweatt Advertising Director
Ttmberiey Adams. Cecelia Gore
and Linda Cheers Advertising Representatives
Dorothy Brennan and Brenda Clemmons Moore.. Graphic Artists
WUllam Manning .Pressman
Ixmnie Sprinkle Assistant Pressman
PAG? 4 -A. THURSDAY. AUGUST 11, 1994
They Don't Want ABC,
Shouldn't Be Forced
They don't need a liquor store. They don't want a liquor
store. They will do whatever they can to see that a liquor store
does not get built in the rural Ash community.
That ought to be enough to convince the Brunswick County
Alcoholic Beverage Control board to table its proposal, at least
for now, regardless of its potential as a revenue-producer.
Sure, it's easy to refute the argument that having a liquor
store in .Ash would weaken the community's moral fabric. If
"out-of-sight, out-of-mind" applied to booze. Prohibition would
still be in effect and working.
Surely there are alcoholics living in Ash now, and we'd be
willing to bet there were even back in the days when you
couldn't buy legal liquor anywhere in Brunswick or Columbus.
But that's not the point.
Ash area residents have consistently and overwhelmingly
turned thumbs-down on alcohol sales proposals in the past, and
it's their community. The opponents of the latest proposal are jus
tifiably miffed that the plan has nothing to do with serving the
Ash community, but is all about snagging the beaches' booze
trade before the tourists get closer to the shoreline.
If, as one speaker told the ABC board recently, there's a
silent majority of folks out in Ash who favor a liquor store,
there's no evidence to prove it. For now, the vocal opponents de
serve to prevail.
If Ever A System Needed
Overhaul, It's Restitution
If you're a criminal ordered to pay restitution, the state can
garnishee your wages or use your tax refunds to repay your vic
tims, right? Wrong.
When criminals pay fines and court costs, the money goes
first to pay victim restitution and then to the county, city or
school system, right? Wrong again.
In fact, as outrageous as it may seem, a killer ordered to reim
burse his victim's family for funeral costs can be freed on parole
without having paid a cent.
A recent study by the N.C. Sentencing Commission found
that, on average, offenders pay only 30.8 percent of the amounts
they've been ordered to pay. Forty-six percent of 561 offenders
paid nothing.
If ever a system deserved repair, this is it A bill that would
fix some of these inequities finished the General Assembly's ses
sion this summer in committee. It also would have given judges
the power to extend probation for up to five years to make sure
that offenders pay restitution.
Analysts say the measure would take away $6.5 million a
year that cities and counties now receive. The House version
sponsor, Rep. Mickey Michaux of Durham, says he "tends to go
in favor of the victim." One would hope so.
Who can argue with victims who say their inability to collect
restitution victimizes them a second time?
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
Sunny Point Zoning
Illogical Writers Say
To the editor:
Why has Military Ocean Terminal
Sunny Point been zoned for heavy
manufacturing on our county zoning
maps? Could it be yet another ploy
by some of our county officials to
establish this area as an industrial
corridor?
Sunny Point is a transshipment
depot and is operated by the U.S.
Department of the Army. Brunswick
County has no authority or control
over anything within its perimeter.
So what purpose could possibly be
served by zoning it anything other
than what it in actuality is ? a feder
al installation?
On our county zoning maps, this
8,573-acre facility has been labeled
H-M. It gives anyone who views
these maps a false impression as to
what truly exists in this part of the
county. As residents of this area, let
us assure you that with the exception
of Carolina Power and Light, every
thing existing from Boiling Spring
Lakes along both N.C. 87 and 133 to
Southport are homes, schools and
numerous "mom-and-pop" business
es. None of these structures suggest
that this is an industrial corridor. It
would appear to be quite the con
trary, as the general character of this
area points toward a residential
neighborhood.
On Aug. 17 at 7 p.m. in the Public
Assembly Building at the Brans
wick County Government Complex,
persons interested in removing the
H-M zone from Sunny Point can
meet with the Brunswick County
Planning Board and request that this
change be made.
Let's remove this false label from
our county zoning maps in order that
a true picture can be established of
this area and continuity for this resi
dential corridor can be maintained.
Basil and Greta Watts
South port
'Is It Ethical?*
To the editor:
Is it ethical for our county offi
cials to use a military installation
that falls under the jurisdiction of
the U.S. government as a means for
deciding county zoning issues?
Military Ocean Terminal Sunny
Point has been zoned for heavy
manufacturing. Not only does the
county not have any jurisdiction
over the development or land use of
Sunny Point, there is no manufactur
ing, processing, assembling or ware
housing on the property.
I can't believe Brunswick County
did not give this area more thought
when they were developing this
"wonderful thing" they call county
zoning I find it interesting that there
is no other county in the state of
North Carolina that has zoned a mil
itary reservation.
Norman Puckctt
Southport
(More Letters, Following Page)
Rest Insured ? It Makes Perfect Sense
"How do you know when they're
well enough to leave?" I asked my
friend who works in recreational
therapy at a large psychiatric hospi
tal.
"Oh, it's easy," she said. "When
their insurance runs out."
?
"Gimme the good news," I joked
to the auto insurance agent when be
came back on the line with the an
swer to my question ? how much it
would cost to add a 16-year-old
brand-new driver to my policy.
"There is no good news," he
replied cheerfully.
?
"I need what?" I asked a dentist
on my fourth or fifth visit, after two
root canals ($350 each) and two
crowns ($500 apiece).
"A filling and some periodontal
work," he said.
"What's gonna be the price tag on
that?" I asked.
"Oh. it'll run you $1,500 or so,"
he said.
At the time 1 lived elsewhere in
the state and had dental insurance.
Now I don't, and both the dentists
I've visited since agree that I have
neither a cavity nor gum disease.
?
My sister, my husband, my son
and i took an overnight trip to the
Isle of Palms. The college kids in
the third- floor condo next door to us
had a rowdy party that lasted all
night. Next morning when we went
down to put our suitcases in the car.
Lynn
Carlson
we noticed that my sister's black
Mazda MX6 had dents and scratches
all over the trunk lid, no doubt
caused by beer cans having been
dropped on it from the breezeway
above.
When my sister called her insur
ance agent about having it fixed, he
told her the company would cut her
off if she filed a claim on the Mazda
because it was considered to be a
"sports car."
?
A co-worker had a rough year ?
her marriage broke up, her mother
died and her house caught on fire all
in the space of six months. She start
ed having panic attacks, brief
spasms of paralyzing fear as she
drove down the highway or stood in
the grocery line. Her family doctor
assured her she wasn't going crazy,
that panic attacks arc a common
manifestation of major stress and are
usually easily vanquished with re
laxation exercises or antidepressant
medicine.
She was referred to a psychologist
who treated her for three or four
months with no drugs, only progres
sive relaxation techniques. She fi
nally felt good again. Then she filed
an insurance claim and they revoked
her coverage ? punishment for seek
ing help.
?
Jt was 1984 and our friend Ollie
was absolutely drooling over the
new Pontiac Fiero. He had to have
one. Ollie's the son and brother of
master mechanics, and all three guys
can fix anything with a motor.
Ollie, even when he was single,
was the kind of guy whose apart
ment was always spotless and every
thing he owned was maintained by
the book ? the result, no doubt, of
growing up in a military family
where he learned the meaning of
"ship-shape" in the cradle. In his
early 30's, he'd never had a ticket or
accident, never filed an auto insur
ance claim.
When he called his agent of many
years, he learned that the company
wouldn't wouldn't write a policy on
the Fiero. They suggested he call
Lloyds of London.
?
A relative was experiencing ex
cruciating migraine headaches
which got worse month after month
until he was no longer able to func
tion at his job, a top-level manage
ment position with a chain of retail
stores. He'd been to several doctors
and had been prescribed a dozen
kinds of medicines from antihista
mines to narcotics. Nothing was
working, so he went to a neurosur
geon who told him the first step
would be to stop taking all the drugs
he'd been prescribed and warned
him there might be some withdrawal
symptoms. Coming down off the
medicines was worse than they'd
anticipated. He didn't sleep for days
and became severely dehydrated
from vomiting.
The neurosurgeon wasn't allowed
to admit the relative to the hospital
until he could talk the insurance
company's registered nurse into al
lowing it.
?
Common expensive procedures
insurance companies frequently pay
for: mastectomy, hysterectomy,
prostate cancer therapy, cardiac by
pass. What most health insurance
policies don't cover: mammograms,
pap smears, routine examinations
and other preventive services.
?
Betty Ford and Rosalyn Carter ar
gue that if you're going to have a
national health reform plan that does
some real good, you've got to cover
drug and alcohol rehab and mental
health services ? not as an alterna
tive to justice but as a correlary.
Couldn't do that, Hillary Clin
ton's group says. Too expensive,
even if America's worst social prob
lems are rooted in substancc abuse
and lunacy.
?
It all makes perfect sense to me.
Carpe Diem: Generation X Needs Woodstock, Too
For this is all
A dream we dreamed
One afternoon
Long ago...
?The Grateful Dead
No, 1 didn't make it to Wood
stock. Although not for lack of try
ing.
Six of us had our knapsacks
packed and ready to go. But only
one had his own car. A klunker of
course. Sacrificed its water pump to
the August heat No money to fix it
We stayed home. So it goes.
If we had imagined what was
about to transpire, we probably
would have done anything ? hitch
hiked, "borrowed" a parents car,
anything ? to reach Max Yasgur's
farm. But no one knew.
Luckily for the promoters, by the
time the event's magnitude became
apparent to the throngs of young
people (like us) who would have
tried to reach the festival, the New
York Thruway was already closed
and Sullivan County was about to be
declared a disaster area.
So instead we watched on televi
sion and discovered for the first time
that there were millions of us out
there who henceforth would be col
lectively known as the "Woodstock
Nation."
In an admirably frank and unsen
timental Newsweek magazine essay
recently, writer David Gates accu
rately observed, "In retrospect
Woodstock proved only that it takes
nicely brought-up young people
more than three days to revert to
savagery..."
Which provides intelligent coun
terpoint lo singer David Crosby's id
iotic babbling to a television inter
viewer asserting that the crowd of a
half-million at Woodstock represent
ed the "largest human gathering in
history" without a report of "vio
lence, rape or murder."
Crosby's drug-toasted brain has
obviously lost the capacity to con
sider centuries of Hindu religious
festivals. Islamic pilgrimages to
Mecca and the annual 24-hour auto
mobile race at Le Mans, France. But
he was at Woodstock, man.
The festival must have been a wa
tershed event in the personal lives of
many who experienced it But the
broader social ramifications of
Woodstock were far more signifi
cant than the simple fact of all those
folks surviving three days of "peace
and music" and mud and rain with
out turning on each other (violently,
that is).
Idealists give Woodstockers way
too much credit for their civility.
Most were so stoned on psychedelic
drugs that they couldn't think of any
reason to get mad at each other.
(This was a decade before high-am
perage cocaine brought big money
and street warfare to the drug trade.)
Much of the peace and love at
Woodstock was chemically stimulat
ed. lust ask the investigator in the
trial of Dr. Jeffrey McDonald, who
testified that drug-crazed hippies
broke into his home and brutally
murdered his wife and child.
"A bunch of kids high on LSD
couldn't even organize a trip to the
toilet," the detective said.
Like an undersea earthquake, the
immediate effects of Woodstock
were localized and hard to measure,
but the resulting social impacts radi
ated around the world in tidal
waves.
All across America, even in the
smallest towns and communities,
there were young people who had
come to consider themselves differ
ent and somehow detached from
previous generations. They grew
their hair long, wore funky clothes,
listened to loud music, questioned
authority and thus became outcasts,
commonly derided as "freaks."
When Jimi Hendrix played the
Star Spangled Banner at Woodstock,
it was a generation's wake-up call.
All those "freaks'* in all those towns
in all those states across America
found out they were not alone.
Far from it They soon proved to
be a force to be reckoned with ? po
litically, philosophically and eco
nomically.
Ninety days after Woodstock, an
other "half a million strong" mar
ched on Washington to protest the
Vietnam War (nearly equalling the
number of troops stationed there).
That was the month President Nixon
announced his "Victnamizatior" of
the conflict and began regular with
drawal of U.S. troops.
The following spring, after four
student demonstrators were fatally
gunned down by Ohio National
Guardsmen at Kent State University,
colleges across the country were
shut down in protest strikes. Some
remained closed until fall.
Directing its energy toward the
problems of pollution, the Wood
stock Nation organized the first
"Earth Day" commemoration, when
millions across America celebrated
the birth of the environmental move
ment. The car you drive, the parks
you visit, the fowl you eat, the water
you drink and the air you breathe
were forever altered as a result.
The entertainment and fashion in
dustries were transformed beyond
recognition by the Woodstock gen
eration. Executive "trend-setters"
were forced to take a back seat to
artists and performers, who demand
ed control over the way their work
4
was produced. They were right. The
stuff sold. People got rich.
Lowly FM radio, once the forgot
ten stepchild of broadcasting, was
taken over in the 1960s by "freak"
disc jockeys who understood what
the Woodstock Generation wanted
to hear. Station owners had enough
sense to cover their ears, hand over
the keys and cart big profits to the
bank.
Nowadays, there is a desire to
blame all of societies ills ? the
alarming rate of illegitimacy, the
drug problem, the loss of America's
"moral compass" ? on "60s "permis
siveness." (Back then it was called
tolerance.)
But that dog just won't hunt. As
most of its immediate goals were
met ? ending the military draft, stop
ping the war. exposing the corrup
tion of the Nixon administration ?
Woodstockers blended back into
mainstream society. They started ca
reers. They raised families.
It's not the children of unmarried
Woodstock moms who are smoking
crack and killing each other in the
streets. They're too busy watching
MTV and trying to keep up with the
latest fashions. So it goes.
Now they are planning a much
better organized "Woodstock '94"
festival about 30 miles from
Yasgur's farm. A nostalgia-oriented
version of the original was canceled
after failing to attract enough inter
est. Which is an encouraging sign.
Today's young people need a sim
ilar chance to get together in their
own festival, with their own music
and without a lot of "old hippie"
baggage to see if they can find some
common goals for what has unfortu
nately come to be derided as
"Generation X."
They need their own opportunity
to follow Walt Whitman's timeless
advice:
"Seize the day!"