Newspapers / The News-Journal (Raeford, N.C.) / April 27, 1994, edition 1 / Page 2
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2A THF.NEWS.JOl'RN'AL Racford, N.C. April 27,19M Viewpoints Being first is not always best You saw it there first? A number of readers have asked us why they repeatedly see stories about new industries locating here in other newspapers before the stories appear in The News-Journal. We think a word of explanation is in order. When a industry considers locating in a new community it often seeks to keep a low profile until all arrangements are final. Economic devel opers everywhere say this is because public word of an industry’s plans can tip off competitors and spoil the deal for the industry or the community it plans to locate in. Often, newspapers become aware of an industry’s plans through news tips or from the official process a company must go through to buy land or start a building. Economic developers often ask newspapers to hold off printing the story for a week or two to avoid spoiling the deal. Not all newspapers heed the request. In one case last year, says Hoke’s economic developer, Dottie Meacher, an industry that was planning to locate in Hoke County, went instead to Cumberland County after a story ran in another newspaper despite her requests. It seems when competing investors read about the financial package attracting the industry to Hoke, they threw together some incentives and diverted the industry to Cumberland County. Should a newspaper be a team player? Should it care if its community loses industries to com peting counties? Not all newspapers agree. Careful what you say to preacher Most churches have revivals dur ing the spring of the year. 1 am here to tell you, those who make that decision are missing the boat. My grandfather would always schedule the event during the hottest month of the year. He said, “folks are more apt to come to the altar when it is hot, because they realize if they do not, it will be much hotter where they will likely go.” Not many of our modern-day church-goers accept that philosophy. They want to be cool and collected when they hear about their sins. So many things have changed about revivals that the distant rum bling of the ground is probably our ancestors turning over in their graves. At a planning session for the up coming Methodist revival many questions were asked and I could answer them all. When the minister wanted to know who would take turns feeding the visiting minister, I suggested he do like most of the men V- -ii A View from the Country Raz Autry in the church, and scramble for him self. Naturally that suggestion didn’t go over too well. 1 will be the first to admit that phase of the planning had changed greatly. Years ago mem bers of the congregation would prac tically fight over who would get to feed the revival preacher. If my brothers and I had any input in the matter the good soul would never come to our house. We knew we were in trouble when our mother told one of us to get a fat rooster and wring his neck. Children of today wouldn’t do such. It was standard practice to run down a chicken in the yard, wring his or her neck, dip the dead foul in boiling water and pluck the feathers off However, during revival we knew the only parts of the chicken we would see would be the feet, tail and wings. The preacher ate the good stuff. Boy, could they eat. Not once can 1 ever remember during my boyhood days seeing a skinny man of the cloth. In alt fairness, eating was about all they got for trying to save us sinners. Oc casionally some member of the con gregation gave them a tub of lard or country ham. There was no such thing as a love offering. If the plate was passed there wasn’t enough money in it when it was returned to the altar to feed a dying buzzard. Unfortunately for the sons in the Autry family, revival time wasn’t the only calling we had from the preach ers. One poor soul who served our .church for a year or two was invited to dinner often by my father. His kindness to the minister didn’t al ways please my mother. She felt some (See PREACHER, page 4A) CCTLCy V' mill One on One D. G. Martin “I DON’T WORRY ABOUT GETTING ROBBED ANYMORE. NOW THAT I CARRY MY MACE, PEPPER SPRAY, SONIC ALARM, AND REVOLVER, THERE’S NO ROOM IN MY PURSE FOR MONEYI” Chance to see another culture? Rejoice! They didn’t want to be there. A few Saturdays ago, young stu dents at the German School in Char lotte were being “treated” to my 15- minute-long speech upon the occa sion of the 20th anniversary of their school. Most of them would have preferred to be outside on that beau tiful spring day. But their parents insisted that they be there — just as they insist that their children spend every Saturday morning in German School. At this special school these children learn the language and culture of their parents and grandparents. Although they are growing up American, the German School makes it possible for them to hold on to their family roots. 1 tried to tell them how fortunate they were to have their feet planted firmly in two cultures. Most of the rest of us are bound up in the routines of the way we have always done things. We have one culture and we stick to it. We do things the same way, the right way — our way. Too seldom do we back away and ask those most important questions; “Why?” and “Why not?” “Why are we doing it this way?” “Why don’t we try another way?" On the other hand, people who know different ways of doing the same thi ngs are not so bound to some “one way.” By understanding and appreciating two ways of speaking and two ways of looking at the world. the children in German School are less likely to accept uncritically the customs and prescriptions of any one culture. They are probably less likely to automatically say, “My way is the only way,” or, “My way is the best way.” Knowing that there are always at least two ways of looking at a situ ation or a problem, they are more likely to be able to back away and look at problems objectively — and more likely to come up with ideas for creative solutions. There are other advantages of learning the German language .Since they know Engl ish and German well, they can compare the literature of both cultures directly—without the filter of translation. They can appreciate the strengths and weakness of each language by comparison with the other By own ing two languages, they an make better use of their English. 1 tell the children that their par ents have given them another rare gift. By sending them to German School on Saturday mornings they set the ir children apart and give them a special identity. Like Jewish kids who are sent to Sabbath School or kids whose par ents make them wear special clothing to conform to religious or cultural customs or like kids of different ra cial or ethnic backgrounds, these German School kids are not free to be just like the other kids. And, being .set apart, they must ask earl ier than some of the rest of us if they are different. And also ask why. That makes them more likely to begin earlier to ask those other ultimate questions. “Who am 1?” and “Why am 1 here?” and “What am I to do?” My speech was going well, 1 thought. But 1 was preaching, and the children’s eyes were beginning to glaze over. 1 was talking too long. 1 thought 1 was being profound, but 1 wasn’t saying anything controversial or exciting. Who could disagree with my points about the advantages of being familiar with another language and culture? Ironic, isn’t it, that most of us agree about the benefits of the expe rience of these children in German School, while at the same time we are so fearful that our American culture is in danger of being wiped out by our “giving in” to other cultures? We worry so much about it that we pro pose laws that designate English as our only official language. We want laws that require American values be (See CULTURES, page 3A) HEf,WOOY,GarNSQARCOl, OtlOROFUJOROCkREON, kMMOHlkN® FREON Lite® OOSEOFETWILFURDID? RUNkMtnt. a Nixon seen differently after death RALEIGH — 1 took my Richard Nixon poster off of my office wall on Friday morning. With the former president only hours from death, something told me it was simply wrong and disrespectful not to do so. It surprised me that 1 felt that way. The poster, which I bought in Berlin in 1972, depicts Nixon with a halo over his head, wearing an Ameri can flag as a kerchief pulled up over his nose — Wild West bandit style. Somehow, 1 always figured I’d dance on the day that Richard Nixon died. Instead, 1 felt sad. Maybe it’s a function of middle age, of .seeing the generation of my parents pass away. Nixon was about my late father’s age, a few years .older than my late mother. 1 find myself thinking a lot these days about how the generation that won World War 11, and built this country into a world power, is leaving us. Maybe I’m more mature and con servative than 1 was in 1968 and 1972 when I nearly cried each time Nixon was elected. Maybe I’m will ing to consider his very serious mis deeds in the context of his huge ac complishments. When 1 was 21, he could only do wrong in my book. But I’m torn this week as 1 tune to C-SPAN to absorb the Nixon cover age. I’ve listened to the re-broadcast of several of his speeches and mar veled at the insights. (One 1989 speech, for example, predicted the kinds of nationalistic problems which the old Soviet republics and Bosnia are now having.) 1 even laughed at one of his jokes. When 1 was a kid, his jokes made me retch. At the same time, 1 can’t forget those days in the late 1960s and early 70s, when Nixon was to me the main impediment to the end of the Viet nam War, a war which 1 found to be so wrong and which still haunts me. (Until he left office, 1 felt much the same way about 1 BJ. I can’t forget that summer afternoon in 1965. My friends and 1 sat under a tree at the ballpark, playing set back and listening to Johnson announce an expansion of the war. With us that day was a much older kid, A1 C'riscuolo, a fellow who that day was unknowingly having his death cer tificate signed by the president. A1 died in Vietnam, in 19691 believe). If 1 find myself feeling sorry for an old man who has just died, and conciliatory towards his accomplish- ments, 1 remember the tough warrior he was for his side. 1 remember the enemies list, the dirty tricks in the 1972 campaign, 1 remember my late uncle’s livid eyes whenever he talked about Nixon’s role in the Red Scare of the late forties and fifties. When 1 think of those things, 1 want to put the poster back on the wall, and do as my buddy, a former Chapel Hill radi cal: Dance that Nixon is gone. 1 suspect that many in my genera tion — at least those who were op posed to the war — are torn the way I am. Maturity and civility tug us one way, but old wounds and the memo- Watching 1 Paul T. O'Connor ries of friends list in a distant judge tug us the other. 1 wish Richard Nixon a peaceful eternity. He is now with someone far abler to judge him than I. As for me. I’ll change my mind and my heart a dozen times over the next week as I watch as much of the funeral, and as many of the retrospectives, as 1 can. The man still haunts and tears at me, even in his death. The News-Journal Published every Wednesday by Dickson Press, Inc., Paul Dickson Pres. 119 W. Elwood Avenue _ Raeford, North Carolina 28376 /aWS (910)875-2121 number Subscription Rates in Advance In Hoke County: $12 — one year $6.50 — six months Out of county: $15 — one year $8 — six months Out of state: $18 — one year $9.50 — six months Louis H. Fugleman, Jr Publisher Ken MacDonald General Manager Jill Hebert Assistant Editor Lenore L. Morales Reporter Henry L. Blue Production Supervisor Sam C. Morris Contributing Editor Ann Webb Advertising Representative Susan Stauffer Advertising Representative Postmaster: changes to: Second Class Postage at Raeford, N.C. P.O. Box 550 (usps 3gg jeo) Raeford, N.C. 28376 ' The News-Journal is sold at these locations: Bo's S. 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The News-Journal (Raeford, N.C.)
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April 27, 1994, edition 1
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