Newspapers / The Brunswick Beacon (Shallotte, … / March 12, 1987, edition 1 / Page 4
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: opinion ‘ "TUff «mswiCK^^^ ■' Edwnrd M. Swealt andjCarolyn^H. Sweatt.. Edward ni. Sweat!. •".^.V.. .\'^i-r.\vV‘. i^. r/EdltOr' Susan Usher ..-vv... .... .IVsts* Bdttor Marjorie Megitem..... .^’^'.'...... .AsMOcimte Editor Etta Smith Staff iEriter Johnny Craig ^ ....;.... Sporta Editor Mary Potts . irrvi.’V;.'. Office InmaSgsf Cecelia Gore & Susan Barefoot. .Adcertiaing RepretentMtivta Tnmmie Galloway & Dorothy Brennan Typeaettera Bill McGowan Pmaaman llnmda Clemmons Photo Technician Lonnie Sprinkle .TTZ Aaaiatant Prcaaman Clyde and Mattie Stout, Phoehe Clemmons C.irculation Page 4-A Ihursday. March 12,198* 'What !s Past Is Prologue" It’s too bad I}istor>’ is not taught with more flair in public schools. Somehow, youngsters get the notion it’s dry, dal! staff that doesn’t matter anymore. Stuffed with dates and names, by often-lethargic teachers, they choke on those battles and dictators and trade agreements that can’t match television, parties and football for excitement. Much later in life they stumble on the fact that Shakespeare was right: our past continually resurfaces as in troduction to the future, and nations of the world repeat and repeat their mistakes. If only we took seriously the lessons history has to offer, perhaps this cycle could be broken, tyranny thwarted, oppres sion of the poor averted, idealists supported instead of pooh- poohed. St^ps ^0 interest in history ere nnHpr- taken in Brunswick County, even as we write. There are pro mising moves afoot to get our local past down on paper, to br ing it together and make it available to anyone who cares enough to read it. The National Association of the Advancement of Colored People, whose county chapter sponsored the important Black Cultural Awareness program last month, understands the need to conununicate black history. It has until recently been omitted from public school textbooks, but black people need to know of achievements within their race. White people need this information, too. So the local NAACP is preparing its own "history book,” including the accomplislunents of black people who can serve as role models for youth, and whose role in our past is signifi cant. At the same time a new group, the Brunswick Technical College Genealogy/Local History Friends, will help develop a collection of local history in the BTC library. Their aim is also to promote interest in local history countywide. And simultaneously, Patricia Foy’s students at South Brunswick High School have been interviewing oldtimers around the county and writing about their recollections. Ms. Foy has already listened to 57 hours of taped interviews that have captivated her students. Now, that’s the way to teach history! All these efforts are encouraging, and it is hoped the three groups will be forceful in presenting their findings to the public. Lazy members of our TV society just won’t travel to a library to pick up a history book, without considerable motiva tion. One lure might be an “Evening of History,” with socializ ing over a cup of punch, where students, N.AAGP members and “friends” of BTC could bring their materials to life. Whatever the device to “hook” the public, these folks engaged in pursuing county history are themselves already greatly rewarded. They are discovering how our ancestors liv ed, why they made significant decisions and changes in Brunswick County, what their contributions were, and the obstacles they overcame. This adventure of discovery does more than entertain. If we look honestly at our history, it charges us with pride, but . also with humility and some understanding of those things that went wrong and why. Armel with understanding and knowledge, we can make the past our teacher, not the prologue to a mindless future. There is A Solution To Standing CJn School Bus whpn I was growing uo I rode a bus to school everyday for what sevitied like a million miles. And even way back then the local school board had to deal with over crowded buses. It just so happened that the school coach, who was considered a realb’ tough gtiy, drove the bus on the route where I lived. All of the kids on his route were afraid of him. He just sort of looked like the kind of guy who could crush a ninth grader with one hand~you know the type, with a crew-cut and a marine's tattoo on his arm. If so meone even thought about misbehav ing on his route, one glare from him squelched the effort. I remember one lime when two boys started fighting on the bus. Mr. Bonecrusher (1 don’t remember his but thul's qdIIoH him) pulled that bus over to the side of the road and said, “You two boys step outside." Those were the most chilUng words we could hear on Mr. Bonecrusher’s school bus. It meant that the wooden paddle with dozens of names on it would get a few more autographs. erra Smith .\nd even though his .spaitkings never really hurt physically, they were the most humiliating experieiH'e one could encounter. It iiH'ant bending over ami taking your “licking" in front of all your friends, and it took an entire schoo! year for one to live down an e.x- pericncc like that. What was worse, if my parents found out that my behavior war- rSittwii 3ci*^crMshc***s mmicK- ment, it meant I would get more of the same when my father got home that night. So 1 was always well- behaved on that bus. I'll never forget how afraid 1 was of this guy. A good e-xemple cf this is the time 1 got on the bus and there was only one empty seat—beside a big mouthed girl I didn’t like. SudUeniy, iiie inu Started n'-cving. On Mr. Bonecrusher's route standing while the bus was moving was a capital oitense. I started io take the cUvie.'ii seat available when the big mouthed girl leaneil her entire body over to i-over tbe spare .sent unci said “You can’t sit here. I’m saving It for Ulemla.’’ I didn’t Want to sit next io her, but it was better than facing the bonecrusher. So I sat ON her—for Ihe entire l8-uule trip. When lier friend OlecKla got on the blue .slie foumi another seat. lately, when I pa.ss a .school bus on the road I’ve noticed what seenvi like lots of kids .stuiHling on the bus. Curious about wliy this is allowed, I called Bill Turner, Ihe school superlntendent’.s H.s.sLstnnt for opera tions. In other words, he’s the guy in charge of the school buses. Turner told me the law allows Z5 percent of the total passengers to stand on the bus. Those who stand are usually the first ones to get off, he said. So when children stand on the bus It’s usually only for a short lime. Tills county owns three different nj«U-!= !>f liiise.s Tile older model, which Turner said will be phased out as tlicy quit running, holda 4S rMisac-ngers. 'ITic newer mcxlcb hold 54 und GO. Any new buses the school board purchases will hold GO students, said Turner, He uddexi that he tlilnks the 60-imssenger buses will eliminate the need for children to stand in the aisles. But 1 luivc a suggestion tliat could .save the .school board money and at tlie same time initiate a new school bus passenger bcliavior program. The board could hire all cx- iivirincs. They couid possibly work with tlic military in recruiting these guys as soon as they retire from that branch of tlie service. Tlien they could give them wooden paddles tlial have lots of signatures on them. And they could give them all aliases like “Bonecrusher,’’ “Mad Dog," “Killer," etc. it worked 20 years ago and it would probably work today. I’d even be willing to bet Uiosc 48-passenger school buses would grow some new seats. It's Too Late To Turn Back Now Tt’hcn was the last time you plann ed a wedding? Now, more than ever, I understand why you’re only supposed to marry once. It’s not just the part about commit ment and marriage is what you make it, etc. There’s another very real reason: It’s because the bride and groom can only go through this ordeal once. There ought to be a law... I love Don and he loves me; we want to go through life as partners. That appeared to be challenge enough for the two of us. That was before we began planning what was to be a very simple wed ding down by the river at Fort Caswell, with me in a borrowed dress and Don in a good suit, each with two good friends or relatives in atten dance. Then two things happened: The family got involved and Don decided I Susan Usher we ought to send invitations. Im mediately we had struck a more for mal note and the wedding began to get complicated. We added my mailing list to his list, and then threw in some of my parents’ friends for good measure. The post office will love us for sure. Becky’s gown, an Usher design from London (that’s right!), was hanging in the closet: a challenge to lose back the two dress sizes I've in 5^ y€srs. By Christinas wc knew it was hopeless; I’m the sort of person who eats when happy, ner vous, sad, whatever. I’ll be doing good to stay mv curront dress size. So sister Carol and I hit the pattern books. She’d made her own wedding dress and my sister Jean had made hers, but I had no intention of doing so. After all, they like to sew. We found two likely patterns, but wanted ideas for fabric and trim. We stopped at a favorite store. There, hanging at the end of a rack, visible from the front door, was the dress, with a surprisingly affordable price tag. I put the tea-length ivory lace on lay-away and splurging, tossed in a matching hat We’d started out witli two bridal at tendants, but the number grew to four, and now there’s a distinct possibility of 5t4 (more on this later). We ordered the fabric anyway because it takes six weeks to get here and there’s a lot of sewing to be done. If you think I’m confused, you should talk to Don. He no longer knows how many groomsmen and/or o-shers he will nec«l and he's having to settle for second choice in their garb. The bridemaids will be wearing a kind of dark peach; Don wanted the groomsmen to wear burgundy. What do you think? I’m beginning to think we should have skipped the formalities and run off to SouUi Carolina several months ago. But we’re in too deep now, the wedding must go on as planned and unplanned and replanned. To top it off, Don’s been wondering if I’m mad at him or if I’m marrying someone else. Instead of “Don," his name on the reception napkins will read "Donald." He doesn’t remember it, but cross my heart and hope to die, he glanced at the order and mumbled, “That’s fine, honey." LETTERS TO THE EDITOR' Federal Holiday Will Be Worth Every Penny To the editor: Referring to your editorial, “How Should We Honor King Apprc^iriate- ly?”, don’t worry about Dr. King, he is getting his just rewards and “despite the jibes at his personal life and unproven charges of cormnunLst connections," I would feel really good if I could match his record when I go to meet my maker. The federal holiday for Dr. King can best serve to remind the nation that after all that has been said and done, after the so-called progress that has been made, we as a nation have yet to come to grips with the “cause" of our nation’s greatest pro blem. There is a lot of work to be done on all sides. Whites must come to realize that being white or near white does not within itself make them superior to all blacks. Blacks more so than whites must come to realize that they cannot lay claim to being of the black race and the human race; that is con tradictory. Blacks must learn to forgive and forget the past and accept whites on an individual basis. There is a lot of black and white friendship, but they are afraid to practice their friendship socially. Economics and a lack of courage may play a part in this. Once we get over this problem, we should then be able to accept the greatest truth: that there is and always will be "one God, one mankind, and one religion,” and no power on earth can change it. When this comes about. Dr. King’s holiday should be moved to Sunday, with friends coming together to wor ship, fellowship and celebrate the making of a dream. ' And therein lies your monument. In the meantime, push for the federal holiday. It will be worth every penny. Robert Gore Shallotte Pillar Is Gone To the editor: Sixty-five years ago, Mrs. Rowena Odum Kirby came to our community as an educator. She taught lst-7th grades in our one-room Big Oak School house. I was too young to sit at her feet but my older brothers and sisters did. That is when I first heard of "Miss Rowena.” She was dedicated to her family, her church and her community. When there was sickness and sadness, she was there with food, medicine, clothes or flowers. She was present when there was joy and gladness. She was a strong, stately lady wearing her beautiful print dress, washed, starched and ironed to perfection. Her children, Hilda and Floyd Jr. are kind and caring—ready with a helping hand in time of need. Fruit of a good mother. We knew in time of trouble we could rest much better when “Miss Rowena" was on our case. Oiir con>- munity is saddened by her death. We are all healthier and wealthier because “Miss Rowena" has walked by our side. Mrs. CoyetH. Gray Supply Lawmen Under The Gun Murder, like June, is busting out all over in Brunswick County. We have had our share of tragedy in the past two mon ths, beginning with the murder of Thomas Summer, near Or ton Plantation on Dec. 30, followed by that of Joe Reeves, Feb. 6, in Shallotte, and Beverly Mintz, Feb. 23, in Leland. We, the outraged public, want the perpetrators im mediately brought to justice, relieving us of our fears and satisfying our desire for retribution. But that seldom happens neatly and quickly. As “If only we Brunswick County Sheriff John Carr Davis put it, could solve them like they do on television!” Ah, there’s the rub. Accustomed as we are to the quick fbc of 30-minute solutioris to all problems, foreign and domestic, via the tube, we have a hard time being patient with real life. Ijove affairs take longer, so does growing up, mending a quar rel, educating a d'ammy, and solving a murder. One hang-up in real life murders is getting information back from the state crime laboratory. There is just one, in Raleigh, poorly staffed, and it has not yet reported on finger printing results in Summer’s death two month ago. Another problem is inconsistency in the involvement of State Bureau of Investigation personnel. They are cooperative in the current investigations, but, due to other responsibilities of the men sent here to help, the same ones aren’t usually on the job throughout. And, of course, our sheriff’s department could always use additional personnel. Davis has only three detectives who can give full time to this rash of murders, because the other three detectives must mairitain business as usual. That might in clude your neighbor’s break-in, the theft of your son’s bicycle, and a fight that breaks out in a nearby parking lot. Crime in this county, as elsewhere, is a many-splendored thing and re quires constant attention. i Murder clues are particularly hard come by, according to our sheriff. “Nobody leaves us a note, he said, "and usually only two people know what happened. One can’t talk and the other won’t.” Sheriff Davis, Capt. Phil Perry, and detectives working on the county’s present set of tragedies are giving their all to identifying the killers, then finding them. Their experiences might not make a good television show, but for hard, tedious, dedicated work, we give them high ratings. Luuk At SuCCtfSSiui I One of the interesting happenings in nature is how an abandoned field will begin to grow broomsedge, fen nel, and other vegetation. Soon some pines may begin to grow and shade out a portion of the field, making it harder for the grasses and shrubs to survive. Then hardwoods, which need the shelter of the pines to get a start, grow and eventually crowd out the pines. The process of field succes sion reclaims the land to the wooded slate it was in prior to being cleared as a field. Lost week, rny wife, CaUieriite, and I got a lesson in field succession. We drove to Dillon County,; South Carolina, in search of her great grandmother’s grave in the old Mur chison Cemetery. A cousin had told her about where it was located, though he had been there years ago. We inquired at several roadside stores and searched several old cemeteries with no success. Finally, we stopped to visit a lady who had known Catherine’s mother and she said she could show us how to get there, but couldn't tell us! We picked her up and drove down a dirt road to Sweatt Swamp near Clio and ended up at tbe edge of a grain Held. No cemetery as she remembered it was in sight, but a young fanner pointed out some large pines way across the field and told us there were some old tombstones there. A short hike brought us success. Ws found the Murchison graves—all grown over with trees, covered with leaves, some broken and some fallen over. There were few small shrubs, so when we got to the iron fence sur rounding tbe stones, it was fairly open beneath the trees. Later, with leaves on the trees, we would have missed it altogther. Nature not only reclainm the re- niains as “ashes to ashes" and "dust Uf dust,” but nature tries to reclaim the surface as well. In a few more years, unless some family members decide to cut some trees, restore some graves, and do some stone repairs, nature will have taken over completely and there will be little left to find. Such is nature’s way of reclaiming and recycling. ' THE HIUNSWICXABEACON Established Nov. 1, 1962 Telephone 754-6890 Published Every Thursday At Main Siroot Shallotte, N. C. 28459 SUBSCRIPTION RAnS IN UUKSWia COUNTY One Yeor $7.50 Six Months $4.(X) EISEWHERE IN NORTH CAROLINA One Year $10.00 Six Months $6 00 ElSEWHfRIINU.$..A. One Year $12.50 Six Months....' $7.00 pvaiU^fR pUIQ Qf the Post Office in Shallotte, N. C. 28459. USPS 777-780. I I I I
The Brunswick Beacon (Shallotte, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
March 12, 1987, edition 1
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