PERSPECTIVE ? n? ? Bg tkaaktaI e got to lose, in stead of what we want to add. Thinking is like living and dying. Bach one of us has to do it for out salves. Nobody else can think for us. And thing is exactly what I've been doing today... thinking about this special time of the year, and what I have to be thankful for. There was a time in my life when I wouldn't even answer the telephone without my make-up on. There was a time in my life when I thought the most impor tant possession I had was my dressing table with its host of bot tles, creams and brushes to help make me prettier. I was more concerned with the dents in my make-up caused by the correc tive lenses on face, than with the condition of my eyesight. These were times when vanity defi nitely got the upper hand. But, as with most everybody else, time has a way of putting things into prospective for me, and of get ting my priorities in order. Today, I am cooteot to be at tractive in my own way, and I do the beat I can with what I have to do with. 1 don't care to have a perfect score anymore. Besides, I've realized that in my entire life I've never known one single person who did.. .but I've known many who thought so. Today, the only person who thinks I am a "10" is my >hoe salesman (to quote Joan Rivers), and I really don't stay awake at night worry ing about it. I've got too much to be thankful for to worry or wish for more. I can't see three feet in front of me without my glasses or my contacts, but I'm thankful for the luxury of good sight that these modern-day inventions have brought to me. In fact, I'm thank ful for any degree of sight at all. How could I sit down with paper and ink, or strike the right keys and indulge myself with a career I have worked at since age 10, without the sight my eyes afford me? And how would I know the delicate beauty of the lemon and black butterflies that drift over the blossoms in my yard or the gentle understanding in the golden eyes of my cat or the woods ablaze in multi-reds at this time of the year.. .how could I know these things like I do and write of them so much without the benefit of my sight? On the dance floor, I am a stiff and cubersome, without any agil ity whatsoever and quite envious of those who have it. U.S. must learn to use power when necessary Years ago, when I was in ju nior-high school, our main source of entertainment during physical education classes was picking on John. We kidded him, poked fun at him, whipped him, and any thing else we could that would bring tears to his eyes. John was a couple of years older than the rest of us, having failed a couple of grades. John was also fat. His weight wa s probably near 250 pounds, and many of us boys found joy in making a boy so much bigger cry. We felt stronger because of his weakness. llirough all the ribbing and abuse, John never turned on us. lie would not put up a fight. Chances are, if he had cchosen to, be could have inflicted serious injury on any one of us. Why he chose not to was hard to under stand then. It isn't now. John left school at age 17 and joined the Navy. The last we heard of him he had become a member of toe Navy's elite Seal team? divers that risked their lives in service to their country. John later served in Viet Nam with valor, and is still listed as Missing In Action. Our nation is a lot like John. For yaars, we have been passive, allowing every two-bit country or cause to cast stones st us. With all our power and might, we have been the favorite for abuse. Per haps, like John, we have re strained ourselves too long. Aa I write this, President Rea gan and Soviet leader Mikhail Oirtitfcw are concluding their fhat summit meeting. Much will ha Mid hi the coming weeks summit with a renewed sense of confidence, aware of Soviet strengths and weaknesses. Un like years before, we were able to face the Soviets knowing we have strengthened our military capa bilities and our policies have the support of the majority of Ameri cans. Like John, we have been viewed by many as being weak, afraid to stand and fight. We didn't have strong leadership, nor was there a sense of (Hide among our people. Things were different at this meeting. Chances are, more progress will be noted from this meeting than many previous ones. More comes from strength than weak ness. Like John, our nation mustn't be afraid to use its power when necessary. We've been pushed around on the playground too long. Americans expecting sudden changes in Soviet-American rela tions as a result of the summit won't find them. Regardless of the image Mr. Gorbachev might, his main concern is still Soviet domination. His western appear ance should not fool anyone. He didn't become leader of the So viet nation because of a desire to change the standing Soviet policy of world domination. As he smiled and courted world opin ion, thousands were still being killed by Us soldiers in Afghani stan. Soviet-backed troops were still engaged in military opera tions in South and Central Amer ica and other corners of the world. Perhaps Mr. Gorbachev will have learned from the summit the deep and serious concern America and others feel for true world peace. And perhaps, real izing we are dealing from a posi tion of strength, the Soviets will begin to display their actions that world peace means as much to them as it does others. la normal, everyday movement, I am a ctutx in the first degree with the added benefit of bruises to account for every corner and every piece of furniture in my bouse. But, tbose legs and arms take me many places and bring me joy that I would never know otherwise. Without my legs, how would I take the endless walks through the countryside that ben efit both my physical and mental character? Without legs, how would I travel about so well, pro pel myself through the tangle ment of my herb garden or stroll down the dusty road in front of my country place? With my hands I turn the pages in the books I read, pass a bounty of food around a family table, and reach out to touch the ones I love. Because I have my sense of hearing, I know when the crick ets are in the meadow and the blue jays back in the oaks. I know when a friend needs to confide in me, when to laugh with someone and when to cry in sympathy. Yes, through the years, I've come to learn the value of my worth and just what being thank ful really means. And, I know now that the little things are really the big things we just take for granted. I am thankful to be able to share my beautiful country envi ronment equally with fat, sassy squirrels and possums as well as with four companion cats waiting at my door. I am thankful for a hardwood fire, just lit in my home, and time to sit in front of it and stare. I am thankful for a friend who brings a crumpled bag of pecans or Indian corn, or a jar of sweet preserves... or just takes the time to stop by and chat for a while with me.. .to share themselves as well as their thoughtful little gifts. I am thankful for busy snow birds in tiny flocks, for dusty paths and partridges and golden rod for them to hide in. I am thankful for the old rocking chair out on my porch, the faded quilt on my bed and the modern kitchen always at my disposal. And, I am thankful for the priv ilege of having known many great-aunts and uncles and espe cially my great-grandparents. But, most of all, I am thankful for a memorial past, the promise of a bountiful future, the free doms of this country and another day in which I can be grateful for them all. So, don't be so eager to reach for the almighty papa* dollar in the distance that you fail to see the copper penny at your feet. We all have to make a living and pay the bills.. .but the only thing you really have in this life is life it self, and THIS day. You cannot return to yesterday. You many never see tomorrow. Be grateful for the little things that are really the big things in disguise. Be thankful that they are there, and that they are yours. Be thankful. He thinks , "Duckweed again?" Duke gave ' Heels the Devil Yoo-hoo, Julian Winslow...you can crawl out from under your rock now. The crowds are gone, it's all over, and DUKE WON! There will be no bell ringing in Chapel Hill this year. Sloan and the boys knew just what you Tarheel fans needed to pull you down off your self-made pedestals. I told you three years ago and I'll tell you again, Duke Is Number One! To tell you the truth though, I've been a little worried ever since Saturday afternoon. If you recall, three years ago in Dur ham Red Wilson coached the Devils into a glorious win over Carolina, only to find himself re lieved of his coaching duties later that evening. So far Steve Sloan seems safe. I guess whipping the Tarheels in "Blue Heaven??" is a better victory. Was that a great feeling, or what? Ill tell you folks, I was so excited that I could barely con tain myself. Sitting up there in Chapel Hill on a Saturday af ternoon in the sunshine, with a cool breeze blowing, and Duke winning the game was a wonder ful feeling. I'll admit it wasn't much fun for me until the last minute or so, but those few sec onds when victory was in sight made up for a lot. The Duke-Carolina game is the highlight of the season as far as I'm concerned. Ending up with a losing record for the year doesn't matter quite as much when you take out Carolina in the last game of the season. (Especially when our win gives them a losing record for the season too! ) I wasn't really expecting to go away with a smile on Saturday. Tarry and Michael were the ones who planned to be smiling. Jen nifer and I were antagonized and ridiculed throughout the entire game. Everytime Duke failed to score we had to face up to their crude chants. Whenever Caro lina lit up the scoreboard it was almost unbearable. The two of them behaved as though the out come of that game determined life or death. Jennifer and I just sat there, watching our team fall behind until well into the fourth quarter. Terry was trying to gather us all together to herd us out of the stadium when the turn-around [day took place. I was about three steps away from my seat when the crowd sprang to their feet to cheer a Carolina fumble with one minute and ten seconds left on the clock. (We were down 21 to 16.) The fumble recaptured his attention. It got mine too. Back up on my seat, jumping up and down, screaming, I watched Duke do what I'd driven three and one-half hours to see; cream Carolina right there on that "yucky blue" field. V'ltory is so sweet. Watching all those "Carolina Blue" faces turn green was a de light. After all that obnoxious be havior we'd been exposed to it was more than pleasant to have them all silent. I laughed, I cried, I squealed, and got a little obnoxious myself. After two years of defeat I fig ured I was due for a good time. I assure you, I've made the most of it. Lest you Wolfpack friends think I've let you off easy . . . I do recall the final score of Saturday a week ago Tim Bryant, when your "glorious" Wolfpack hung their heads and crawled back from Durham after the Devil laid . them out on the field. I haven't : forgotten; but beating Carolina is just more fun. You know how it ; is. Being married to a Tarheel fan ? affords one few pleasures in life; I but when life hands you a lemon ; you're supposed to make lemon- ; aide, right? We had lemonaide ? Saturday! Happy Thanksgiving! Colonial militia provided little security The Founding Fathers of our nation believed, as they stated in the Second Amendment to the Constitution, that "a well regu lated Militia" was "necessary to the security of a free State." The last time the militia of Perqui mans County was taken se riously, however, it did not pro vide much security. AU.all VtfAM luMliliVllt | A UlVu wir Drought cm procpflct Letter to the Editor EdMor ? ' : The Perquimans Weekly, Congratulations! You hare done it again! Whomever was re iponskiie for covering the Tur key Waft, held Nov. 1*, 1MB to raise money for the of interest in our Not ooe person to Nor participate, in such a worthy that they are not " by f halp raise such a grand sum at money for anv cause, reoerdless of how worthy it may ha in the v. ? vfl Rt 1, Bos 164 Hartford, N.C. S7M4 of invasion, and as early aa April 1861 the magistrates of Perqui mans had ordered Col. Joseph G. Granbery to see that the county militia drilled at least once in ev ery two weeks. In November the governor or dered the Perquimans militia to report Roanoke Island. County authorities were worried about the safety of Perquimans, so they determined to keep sixty men on local patrol rather than send them to the coast. lite following February Roa noke If'and was taken by Union forces, and the Albemarle region paniced. Some of the Perqui mans militia were sent to defend Elisabeth City. One of the men In Capt Thomas J. Sutton's com pany from the Bethel area left an of their i " i's eabeth City. Probably they as satisified to stay put than to march, as thir inept that fUOr A tually resigned becaui not blow the fife to With Fred's ibeth City, Mtoa't m the^hwdttwtetoga.1 a farces took the town. deed, they must kng since have seen the smoke as the city burned, the departing Confeder ates having choeen to destroy rather than be cooquered. By the time the enemy ap proached near enough for Per quimans militia to fire at them, the battle was nearly over. Capt. Sutton shouted, "Men, we must do something. We must do some thing soon!" When the Federals came into sight, someone pleaded, "Captain, ain't you going to retreat?" Capt. Sutton made a great mili tary decision, "Retreat, Retreat, Retreat. That's the word I've been trying to think of all the morning." As militiaman Robert B. Cos recalled, "And retreat we did, every man going to bis own home. The lame, the halt and the blind being foremost in the flight. I a crowd of people of the battle."', Aa the County Court wax then in; session the crowd must have have been quite large. The dti zens of Perquimans certainly had some new thoughts about their militia. THE PERQUIMANS WEEKLY Established In 1932 A Dear Publication Published Each Thursday By Ad vane* Publications, Inc.. Eliza beth City. N.C. Second Class Postage Paid At Hertford, N.C. 27*44 USPS 428-000. Jam B. Williams Editor Aiizm L Noood Advertising Manager Debbie T. StaHincs WWIV wS?S?Iw?*(B Circulation Manager 1t? W. Qrubb ttreet P.O. Box 277 HerttordUNX. 17M4 Wsrth Carolina Press AooclaMon MnWoeol Miw?ap?r AssoOeHon