The NEW BERN
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VOLUME 3
NEW BERN/N. C., FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1960
NUMBER 26
It’s an ill wind that doesn’t blow
some good, and in the case of Hur
ricane Donna a few rather humor
ous stories were left in her wake
We can’t vouch for the authenti
city of the tale, but it seems that a
local woman who imbibed rather
deeply during the blustery Sun
day in question was so thoroughly
saturated that she slept through it
ail
Monday morning she discovered
that she didn’t have any lights.
Fuming, she called City Hall and
. blew her stack. Told that the lights
were off all over town, and would
n’t be on for some time, she wanted
to know what the big idea was. The
big idea, she discovered rather be
latedly, was something that reach
ed a velocity of 105 miles an hour
right over her head, while she was
“sleeping one off.’’
Then there’s the story of a man I
heer who called the Red Cross of
fice the morning after Donna’s vis
it, and asked for emergency disas
ter relief. His severe loss, as he
reported it, was a television aerial
blown down, and broken windshield ]
on his pleasure boat.
Incidentally, very few birds lost I
their lives in the storm here in
• New Bern, apparently. It has al-
ways seemed miraculous to us, but
S they manage to get a death grip on
■' the branch they’re clinging to, and
refuse to be dislodged. Most of the
tiny feathered creatures that died
* In the hurricane were killed whenl
the trees they were perched in top- j
pled to the ground.
Since the storm, the number of]
birds here appears to be at an all-
time low. Where they went we can’t
say for sure, but they can’t be
blamed for being a little dubious
about living along the Carolina
coast during September.
Squirrels had a rough experience
too at the hands of Donna, but they
didn’t elect to move out of town
like the birds. We don’t profess to
be able to read a squirrel’s mind.
However, our guess as to why they
decided to stay put wasdhe realiza
tion that they have a supply of
food stored here. Squirrels are
greedy hoarders, like the ant. They
stack away far more food than they
can ever eat, and would hate to
pull up stakes and leave it.
Newspapers are to blame as
much as anyone else for the fact
that most of the headlines on hur
ricane damage went to beach prop
erty. Governor Luther Hodges, as
usual, sped to the seashore as
quickly as possible to survey the
havoc wrought there. Radio and
television, like the press, empha
sized the spectacular.
Generally overlooked by all con
cerned, until later, was the terri-
‘ fic loss suffered by many a farm
er. The finest crop in years, and
- a good soybean crop, got badly bat
tered, but such things don’t make
as good reading or show up in pic
tures as dramatically as a cottage
with the roof blown off, or a cause
way damaged.
Radio has been soundly criticized
in some quarters for the manner
in which it gets up a full head of
steam long before a hurricane is an
actual menace to our area. No
doubt about it, the mike boys real
ly whoop it up on the airlanes, and
quite a few folks get genuinely
frightened without cause. _
However, newspapers are often
accused—and in some instances
rightly so—of exaggerating trage
dies, crimes and other events, and
they also gave Hurricane Donna
a heavy play. Peculiarly, Donna co
operated by becoming a threat aft
er all, thereby justifying the great
(Continued on Pago 8)
IN TUNE WITH TIMES—Believe it or not, this exclusive
Mirror picture snapped at the ninth annual Coastal
lina Dairy Show here is an unposed one. Look closely and
you’ll see that Rodney Price of Grantsboro has a transistor
radio functioning on the hindquarters of his champion Ayr
shire, as he prepares her for competition. That’s one way
to get “mooed” music while you work.—Photo by Billy
Benners. ’
Mentally Retarded Children
Getting Their Chance Now
How does it feel to be the par
ent of a mentally retarded child?
Only a small percentage of New
Bern’s mothers and fathers have
that experience, and they alone
know what it’s really like.
Certainly all of us should be
heartened by the increasing aware
ness that developing the full po
tential of a handicapped youngster
is not just a famiiy matter, but a
community, state and national re
sponsibility.
New Bern’s school officials have
recognized this fact, and for three
years now there has been a class
for educable children who have an
I.Q. between 50 and 70. No new
teachers have been allotted in the
last two years, since the supply
authorized by the last State Legis
lature was quickly exhausted.
However, another teacher is hop
ed for here to supplement the
present one, and long range plans
call for an expansion of the pro
gram to include trainable retarded
children, who are so designated be
cause their I.Q. is lower than the
educable child’s—ranging from 30
to 50.
Educable children are being
taught the basic needs of living,
such as making change, having a
sense of direction, and in some in
stances the capacity for limited
reading. The trainable child usual
ly doesn't get beyond the ability
to attend to his simplest needs.
Superintendent Harry MacDon
ald and members of the school
board are keeping pace with the
ever-mounting interest in the men
tally retarded. “They have been
neglected since the beginning of
time,” says MacDonald, “but at
long last something is being done
about it. The need is immediate,
the challenge great, and the prob
lem complex,. but it deserves our
full effort and support.”
Mrs^ Lee Anderson, a free-laAce
writer who lives in Seattle and
does articles for various magazines,
including Ladies Home Journal, has
a handicapped son. More eloquent
ly than anyone else, she has de
scribed her feelings in a- letter
written to Bobby. Here it is, and it
is our sincere hope that each of
you who read it will be inspired
by these lines of faith, courage
and mother love:
Dear Bobby:
You will never read this letter,
for you are a child with a handi
cap. You are like many, the cere
bral palsied, the mentally deficient
or retarded, or any of the other
awesome words that mean you are
n’t normal. You weren’t blessed
with a problem that could be over
come, but we were blessed with
you!
People might wonder at that
statement and then, with the help
of modern psychology, decide it is
my way of adjusting to the prob
lem. This is right. But it isn’t
merely a crutch to lean on when I
get tired. I couid never convince
them how honestly I feel we were
blessed.
You see, Bobhy, many parents
don’t take care of their normal
children. Could He choose them to
care for a child who needs love?
He must have thought we were
worthy of His trust. That is why I
feel we were blessed with you.
liie people I could not convince
don’t know you as I do. They’ve
never looked down on your sleep
ing face and wept because God
made the curve of your cheek and
the shadow of your lashes as per
fect as any other child. He made
the sweet baby quality about you
that has lasted too long.
I look at you in sleep and wish
I’d been more patient. I wish 1 had
accepted what you offered as it
was, rather than compared it with
what it should have been—like the
time you finally managed to scoot
across the room in your inimitable
fashion, instead of walking as I
wanted you to. From now on, I’il
be thankful you have the will to
cross the room in any way you can.
Others don’t know how much
you’ve brought me. They don’t feel
that you cling because I am your
support—physically, mentally, spi
ritually and emotionally. Yet they
know that each of us must feel
needed to be happy. You need me
more than an ordinary child—so
I am more needed than an ordi
nary mother.
They haven’t known the necessi
ty that opens the door to added
knowledge, deeper feeling and a
clearer perspective. Making it nec
essary to help you has made me a
better person. You’ve taugh me
compassion, tenderness, accept
ance, tolerance, and the art of en
joying each small pleasure to the
fullest. You’ve shown me how to
laugh when I wanted to cry; to
smile when I wanted to scream; to
live when I wanted to die.
m « >K *
IT WAS IMPORTANT FOR ME
to learn to teach you. But some
■ how, through the years, things
were reversed and you taught me
I think that’s what God intended,
for you did your teaching without
the power of speech.
Many look on a child like you
and think, “God did this.” Per
haps He did give you a terrible
problem, but He mercifully kept
the knowledge from you. You’ll
never know you’ve missed the
thrill of making a home run on the
school playground or the fear of
failing before your friends, the
painful joy of a first date, the con
fusing emotions and problems when
your body outgrows boyhoods and
hesitates before stepping up into
manhood. You will never see toe
horrible sights of war, the mutila
tion of body and mind that leave
grown men as helpless as you are
now. Yes, dear, God has been kind
in many of the things you are de
nied.
You, and those like you, have
other things that aren’t given,,to all
children—a world of your own that
I sometimes glimpse when you “M-
low” me in, a world of serenity in
comparison to the one in which the
rest of us live. You have an insur
ance against being responsible for
someone else’s injury or death; a
protection against causing us heart
break (because parents still love
even after their children commit
inexcusable crimes). You and I
have been spared those indescriba-
bie tragedies. You can commit no
sins, because you are incapable.
i9 4c * «
WHY DO I WRITE THIS, when
you will never read it? Perhaps I
write to clarify things for myself.
Maybe it’s an attempt to help oth
er parents understand who have a
(Continued on Pogo 3)