EDITORIAL w"aar
Purpose Of Streets
To this town!s public officials, and to all con
cerned with planning for Franklin's future, we pass
along the words of a recognized authority on high
ways and streets, and the ever-growing traffic that
flow over them.
Speaking recently at the annual dinner meeting
of the Waynesville Chamber of Commerce, W. F.
Babcock, director of the North Carolina Highway
Commission, commented :
"The purpose of streets is to move traffic, not
to store vehicles. The only solution of the parking
problem is off-street parking areas."
That, of course, is doubly true where the streets
are as narrow as those in Franklin.
And it is far easier and cheaper to plan and act
now, for the bigger Franklin of 10, 15, or 20 years
from today, than it will be then to catch u,p with
a runaway traffic and parking problem.
Robes And Justice
Next time we have a term of superior court in
Macon County, the presiding- judge will appear in
judicial robe.
The purpose of the state-wide ruling requiring
judges to don robes when they go on the bench is,
of course, to lend dignity to the court. And maybe
it will work that way; for people are inclined to
be affected by appearances.
We wonder, though, what it may do to judicial
tempers, come hot summer days. We wonder, be
cause we've observed how irritable we get when
we're hot and can't do something about it !
In all seriousness, law enforcement is no minor
matter ; and if robe-wearing will add dignity to
the transaction of judicial affairs, we're all for it.
We cannot resist expressing the hope, though, that
the robes will lead the judges to a second step to
ward dignity? keeping better order in the courts.
The way people move about in the courtroom,
talking and laughing, sometimes makes the court
appear more like a convention in recess than the
solemn process it seems to the layman the admin
istration of justice should be.
Salute To Courage
A salute to Dr. H. T. Horsley.
It was ill health that brought him to Macon
County. As a young man, he contracted tubercu
losis, and his physicians sent hjm here ? sent him
^here, no doubt they feared, to die.
But he did not die. He fought the years-long bat
"tle for health, and won. And then, for some 40
years, this fine example of the country doctor
traveled the roads of Macon County, day or night,
responding to the call of human suffering.
Back in 1956 ill health struck again. For a year
he was hospitalized. But once again he battled
and won.
And now, at 73 ? long past the age most men re
tire to take it easy ? Dr. Horsley has started all
-oyer as a practicing physician. That is yet another
?xatnple of this quiet man's courage. And courage
always inspires a salute.
Senseless Waste
Suppose tomorrow morning's newspaper should
announce :
U. S. Business And Industry
Today Discharged 3,400
And suppose a similar announcement should ap
MRS. RENA B. LASSITER
pear again the next day, and the nextr and the
next ? 3,400 discharged every day throughout the
year.
Within days, most of us would say something
was wrong; within weeks, we'd wonder if the
leaders of business and industry were crazy; with
in months, we'd demand that something be done,
so as. to avoid the loss of these workers, who
would number a million before the end of the year.
And when we learned those being discharged were
our most experienced workers, our demand would
be so insistent, it would get action in Washington.
Well, just exactly that is happening, every day
in the year. For the Census Bureau reports that an
average of 3,400 every day reach age 65; and for
most, that means forced retirement.
Maybe we can't change the retirement system
that automatically discards a worker at 65 ; maybe
it ought not to be changed.
But can a nation that is mustering its wealth
and manpower and skill and ideas to fight a cold
war ? can such a nation; afford not to find a use
for the energies and training and experience of all
these millions who are useful the last day of their
65th year, but are tossed aside the next morning?
Letters
Busiest Little Town
Dear Mr. Jones:
Thought I would write to say I just can't do without The
Franklin Press, as I want to hear from Macon County, my
old home place. I often think of you all and the good people
in Macon County and old Burningtown and Iotla.
I was up there the other day, and I just stood on the side
walk for a long time and watched the people. It is the busiest
little town in the South.
ERNEST A. ROPER
Monticello, Ga.
Youth, Jobs, And Home
Editor, The Press:
I read in The Press of December 12 a letter from another
service boy. It was on the topic of the ex-service boys' getting
jobs after they finish their career with the armed forces.
I graduated in 1956 from Franklin High, and I agree with
my fellow OX; it is pretty hard to get Jobs in Macon County,
even if you do have a high school diploma. There is many a
person working outside Macon County that had to leave in
order to make a living. For some reason, there isn't the
right kind of work in Macon County for the younger genera
tion. Here in Japan, I work on different types of aircraft
and if I wanted to continue to use my training on aircraft
after I finished my tour of duty, I would have to leave
home. I know Macon County is not the place for commercial
airlines, however.
Thanks very much for The Press, which I receive about
three weeks late. I really enjoy reading it through. It keeps
jne pretty well informed about the happenings In Macon
County. We people from Macon County should be proud to
live in as nice a place as we do. I am coming back to Frank
lin after I finish my tour of duty. I am very happy to have
as many friends as I do in Macon County, and I am very
happy to be from Franklin myself.
Let's show the rest of the United States that we have a
fine county, too.
A/3c HAROLD L. CABE.
Tachikawa, Japan.
Cheerful Chairful
(Pageant)
A man walked Into a barber shop and asked for a shave.
The chief barber's bright young assistant spoke up and said
to the boss: "May I try shaving him? It'll be good practice
for me."
"All right, go ahead," replied the man of experience some
what doubtfully. "But be careful. Don't cut yourself."
Mama's Teen Talk
(Atlanta Constitution)
There's likely to be a breakdown In communication between
young ones and parents unless Pa and Ma learn teen-age talk.
This mother of a sub-teen-ager learned quickly though.
"Mama, may I hit the flick?" the young lady asked.
"Hit the flick?" said Mama. "I'm afraid I don't read you."
"Oh, Mother," said the sub-teen, "you mean you don't know?
'Hit the flick' Is teen talk for 'go to the movie'."
"So!" said Mama, "in that case, ask me again after you rub
the tub, scour the shower, spread the bed, and swish the dish."
What Ever Happened To Those Old Hanging Kerosene Lamps?
1 1 In Smith field Herald
Do you ever wonder what be
came of things that were once a
familiar part of your everyday liv
ing, but for some reason their
whereabouts has been completely
forgotten?
I read somewhere the other day
that every single thing we have
?rer known Is locked away In some
?closed compartment of our brain
to be opened when touched at the
ritfit time. Maybe what became of
the hanging lamps that I used to
feave la tucked away In some part
ml my cranium but the right thing
baa not yet touched it. However,
memary of the hanging lamps
themselves was stirred recently
when a copy of the recently pub
lished anthology of Youth's Com
panion fell into my hands. Indeed
tbe volume aroused many other
?MBorles that had been lying dor
The Youth's Companion, a mag
azine whose span of life was from
1827 to 1927, was a welcome vis
itor In our home the last 19 years
of its existence. Every Issue was
read from cover to cover. And
one of the features that we en
joyed was the annual premium
number Issued each fall for a num
ber of years. A subscription to the
magazine plus some cash would
bring to us the desired premium.
I recall that we got the Big Giant
Steam Engine long before our
boys were big enough to operate
It. But the thing that they got
fun out of was the Magic Lantern
in which picture postcards could
be shown.
But It was an article on hang
ing lamps In the new anthology
that set me to wondering about
my old hanging lamps. My hus
band and I began keeping house
In the then four-room cottage on
8outh Third Street next to Ada
Austin in the days before Smith
field had electricity. We had two
hanging lamps. One was a small
one with a dark red crystal shade
that lighted our tiny hall. The
other was larger with a white
shade that hung from the celling
in our llving-dlnlng' room. It hung
over the table on which we ate
our meals and then served as a
reading table. Both lamps could
be pulled down for lighting and
then pushed up again to whatever
height desired.
It is odd that I can't remember
what I did with those lamps. We
did not move them to our new
house on Church Street to which
we moved in 1913, for electricity
was in the process of being install
ed in Smlthfleld, and kerosene
lamps would be needed for only a
short time. Our new home bad
celling electric lights In every
room with the then popular hoi
lowphane shades. There was not
a floor outlet In the whole build
ing, for bridge lamps and what
have-you were unknown in those
days. The man who sold us our
hollowphane fixtures emphasized
the importance of having a ceil
ing light that would diffuse the
light evenly over the entire room.
But those hanging kerosene lamps
? I must have given them to some
one whose house was not wired
for electricity. They went the way
into oblivion of the big, painted
china globed table lamps that
shed a soft light in our sitting
room during my courting days.
"Gone With the Wind" lamps
these came to be called after they
made their appearance years later
In antique shops.
Prlsmed chandeliers, and the
like now adorn some of our homes
but they are more of an ornament
than the utility the old kerosene
hanging lamps of fifty or more
years ago were.
UI Hear Tell We'Uns Ain't Long FThis World Either"
Strictly Personal Lly WEIMAR JONES
It seems to me I'm always need
ing an "alibi" ? for something I
did that I shouldn't have, or more
often, something I didn't that I
should' ve.
It's worst of all, of course, right
after Christmas. (
There're Christmas cards, for
instance. Even if I get around to
sending Christmas cards, and
even if I get them off on time,
always I get some cards at Christ
mas, from long-time friends, that
I realize, with sinking heart as I
read them: "That's somebody I
forgot". And otten these are the
very ones that have a personal
message written on them.
I always feel so bad about such
lapses of memory, my conscience
tells me: "You must answer that
with a note". But when I sit down
to write the note, it seems to call
WEEK-LONG HOUR
A Thought
(From yesterday's talk by the
editor on The Prsss' weekly 8:20
a.m. Wednesday program, "A
Thought For Today", over Sta
tion WFSC).
William Dean Howells said it:
"Some people can stay longer
in an hour than others can in a
week." ,
What an awful thing to say!
You and I wouldn't think of tell
ing a visitor he was like that,
would we? But, honestly haven't
you had guests you thought would
never go?
We all know the kind:
First of all, they never draw
breath from the time they arrive
till we sigh in relief when they
finally depart. It Isn't a conversa
tion at all ? it's a one-way talk
feast.
Then, instead of being consider
ate enough to decide, before they
ever come, what subject they
think might interest us, they talk
about what interests them? and
they're too self-centered to see
they're boring everybody but
themselves.
And they take at least half of
that week-long hour to say good
bye. They stand at the door, hold
ing it open so all the heat goes
out, while they say: "I must go ?
but did I tell you what I said to
so-and-so about such-and-such?"
or "I must go, because", and there
follows a long harangue about all
the things they have to do when
they get home ? (if they ever do!);
or "I must go, it's about to rain.
. . . This has been a rainy season;
reminds me of that rainy time we
had In 1946 or was it 1947; or
maybe it was 1945 ... let me see
now. what year was It . .
And finally, when the door
closes for the last time and the
visitor really does go, what do
you and I do? Ydu know the an
swer to that one: We call out,
"Do come again, real soon, when
you can stay longer."
And If that doesn't prove all of
us are a bit strange, consider this:
How oft?n have you and I asked
ourselves:
"Am I, maybe, a little like that!"
Today
for $ome explanation of why I
didn't send a card.
There never is a satisfactory ex
planation, of course, because you
can't say: "I think so little of you,
I just forgot you."
Well, a day or two ago, I re
ceived a message that is the all
time -answer to the need for such
an "alibi". It's so good, I'm go
ing to keep it to use next Janu
ary. It said:
"We didn't send any Christmas
cards this year; we wanted to save
the poor mailman. And now it's
a bit late for a New Year's card.
So call this a Valentine greeting ?
and give us credit for being
early!"
? ? ?
Last week I was in Chapel Hill to
attend the annual North Carolina
Press Association Institute. It's a
meeting I always look forward to.
For not only are there always
good programs; it is an opportun
ity to renew friendships, and to
get new slants and new Ideas
from fellow newspapermen. Like
most people, I'm" inclined to get
into a rut; and the best remedy
for that, I've found, is contact
with other people.
It doesn't take a press meeting,
though, to lure me to Chapel Hill;
the smallest excuse will take me
there. Because Chapel Hill has Its
own personality, and to anybody
who knows the place, 9 visit there
is like a visit to an old, beloved
friend.
It's not just the beauty of the
place, though it is one of the most
beautiful of American college
campuses. And it's not just the
pleasant village atmosphere that
lingers, though it long since has
ceased to be a village.
Through the years, some strong
men have placed their stamp up
on it, and the Imprint doesn't rub
off easily.
There are, of course, other fine
educational institutions in the
state. But Chaper Hill, strange
medley that it is, remains the ed
ucational and cultural capital of
North Carolina. It does something
to th?i mind and the spirit. It's a
place every Tar Heel should visit,
savor, and be stimulated by.
? ? ?
Why Is It so hard to get enough
teachers for the schools?
A friend has passed along the
following purported letter to a
county superintendent, first pub
lished in the Texas Outlook, as a
possible answer to the question:
"Dear Superintendent:
"I appreciate your kind offer of
a job for my girl, Mary. She had
her heart set on bein' a school
teacher, but I talked her out of
it. Teachln' school is too much
like being a preacher's wife. It's
a high callln', but people expect
you to give more'n they pay for.
"You take the teachers here In
town. The only difference between
them and the Christian martyrs
is the date and the lack of bon
fire. They were hired to teach and
they do It. They teach the young
uns that learn and they entertain
the ones that fell on their heads
when they was little. But that
ain't enough; they are supposed
to make obedient little angels out
of spoiled brats that never mind
ed nobody and to wet-nurse the
little wildcats so their mother can
get a rest, and make geniuses out
of children that couldn't have no
sense with the parents they got
nohow.
"But that atot the worst. They
got to get up shows and plays to
work the school out of debt, and
to sing in the ehoir and to teach
a Sunday School class, and when
they ain't doin' nQthtn' else,
they're supposed to be a good ex
ample.
"On top of everything else, they
can't hold hands comln' home
from prayer meeting without some
gossipy old sister startln' a scan
dal on them. I'd just as soon be a
plow mule as teacher. A mule
works Just as hard, but It can re
lieve Its soul by kickin' up Its heels
after qulttin' time without start
in' any talk. I appreciate your
kind offer and may the Lord have
mercy on you and your teachers,
but my daughter ain't interested."
DO YOU REMEMBER? i
Looking Backwrfk-d Through the Flies of The Freaa
65 TEARS AGO THIS WEEK
(1S9S)
Mr. T. B. Hlgdon moved to Ellijay Monday. We shall mlM
him In Franklin.
The Franklin Library Club meets next Friday evening at
the residence of Mr. R. L. Porter.
Owing to the Inclement weather, the Methodist quarterly
meeting has been postponed till next Saturday and Sunday
at Snow Hill. It Is expected to be protracted.
25 TEARS AGO
(1933)
During the past three months, around 900 men have been
given employment on relief projects In Macon County.
Miss Mildred Klnnebrew, whose engagement was recently
announced to Phil Bruce McCollum, was honor guest Tues
day at a miscellaneous shower given by her great-aunts,
Mrs. Oeorge A. Jones and Mrs. J. S. Sloan, at the home of
the former.
1? TEARS AGO
Notice of the appointment of A. R. Hlgdon as a volunteer
veterans' rights committeeman by the U. S. Department of
labor was announced here this week.
The Franklin Lions Club, under the leadership of R. R.
Gaines, president, will hold a President's Birthday Ball, as
a polio benefit, Saturday evening.