. TWO
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i ——
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i
1942
em
"SECOND THOUGHTS
By javie aiche
Somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon line I got the impression that
this nation really is at war, Yet, it was not soldiers, sailors, Marines
and Air Corps men who deprived me of fulfillment when I made my
first request for hotel accommodations, although never before in my
experience of life had I seen so much of the panoply of conflict, khaki
and blue and white. What inter-
~ vened between me and rest was
the fact that south of the line of de-
marcation the racing season was on
“in full career.
Hotel rooms anywhere within
‘each of Churchill Downs and Pim-
~ lico had been taken up weeks in
advance. In the cheaper places you
found touts and stablemen, bookies,
tipsters and plain chiselers. In the
more ornate and more costly hostel-
jes were the handlers, the owners,
the jockeys and their followings.
Men of the service, unless they knew
friends with open homes, were bid-
ding for the tops of pool tables,
for cots in halls, for blankets on
the floor, if they were far from
ase.
It happened that for a period of
days I plied under forced draft in
one of what are called the three
‘most important war centers of
America. It was unnecessary to ask
questions, few of which would be
answered anyhow, because all
around the evidences were self ex-
planatory. Anti-aircraft guns poked
their sharp noses over points of
vantage, planes in echelon and
planes in order of attack criss-
crossed the sky by day and night,
great birds of wide wings and mul-
tiple power. : :
Colonel Jason Tillson and Captain
Will McHenry were met. I became
convinced that the colonel has some-
thing to do with rating the intelli-
gence and adaptability of men en-
tering the commissioned ranks, and
two very sore feet testify my full
~ conviction that McHenry owns exact
‘knowledge of the physical imper-
fections of all who fall under his
command for even a temporary or
: trial period prior to entering war
work or being sent back to the life
of the civilian.
A war-center is more than a town,
more than a city, more than a
county; it really is a group of states
in most instances. It was especially
so in that part of America I was
privileged to observe. Routine life is
' so regimented that populations run-
ning into the millions can be mar-
shalled into defense in a matter of
minutes. Take the schools as an
example. Every child in the area
was aware of exactly what to do
under any possible circumstances;
and, knowing that if attack ever
comes it will be under the cover
of a phase of natural phenomena
the fact is that with the appearance
of a rainstorm the children are
hustled home. Night has a thous-
and eyes on the side of safety.
In every town, big and little, you
see the letter “S” so often that un-
less you are an apt guesser you must
sooner or later inquire of its mean-
ing. You learn that “S” means
“Shelter” and that wherever it ap-
pears there is a defense warden
prepared with many aides to throw
open immediate refuge if there
should be bombing from over-head
or long-distance attack from the sea.
War areas must take cognizance of
possible naval action, as well as
token raids.
A possible gain from conditions
of a conflict is seen in the new free-
dom accorded the colored popula-
tions. Many of the boys of dark
complexion are in uniform and it
is, I suppose, a matter of course
that their sisters and brothers,
mothers and fathers no longer have
to seek the back seats when they
enter a public conveyance. It is
"true, however, that at most of the
hospitals prepared for all emergen-
cies there still are separate accom-
modations and segregated entrances,
but if the restrictive. arrangement
means anything at all there was no
one to make mention of it. And I
did have at least one luncheon at a
counter where my elbow neighbor
was Ethiopean to the Nth degree,
Of the stories you hear in a war
center a few are true. One of the
stories, apparently factual, points a
lesson. Men who like big wages
should save their earnings, putting
aside the temptation to spend as
heavily as they acquire. At a plant
where work is at lofty heights and
with scant footing there have been
too many casualties. Workers there
confessed without urging that the
tragedies are mostly a matter of
self-blame. A day off or a night off,
if devoted to whooping it up, has
an aftermath of paying the final
price in injury or death. In some
types of war endeavor back of the
lines the dangers are equal with
those of the fighting front unless
men observe for themselves the
strict training of the near-ascetic.
Dust
Whether we fall by ambition,
Blood or lust,
Like diamonds, we are cut
With our own dust.
—From the Somerset (Md.) News.
1 =
THE LOW DOWN FROM
HICKORY GROVE
If you have a crazy per-
son trying to break into
your house, you drop
everything and devote
your time to putting a
quietus on him. You don’t
mess around and expect
him to wait there while
you finish painting the
kitchen screen, or get
' shaved.
This is all poppin’ into
my head on account of the
way we are not dropping
tom - tit social experi-
ments, and such, while
Japan kicks and fumes,
and threatens our meck
with a long-handled cut--
las. It is like this old “fly-
up-the-creek” Mr. Byrd of
Virginia says. Cut out, he
says, 2,000 million in cash
planned to be spent on
hazy domestic ventures
versus machine guns and
dynamite. What we need
now is shootin’ irons.
But before saying adios,
I have nothing against Mr.
Byrd on account of calling
him a “fly-up-the-creek.”
Any good Virginian is the
same. They get the name
from a bird that always
flies upstream—mever
down.
Let everything else slide,
says Mr. Byrd—now is the
time to fight. We can ex-
periment, be wisionary,
when the fracas is over—
but not now.
Yours with the low down,
JOE SERRA.
— a
a
: Health Topics
By F. B. Schooley, M. D.
[~ _ 5
Erysipelas
Erysipelas is also called “the
Rose” and “St. Anthony’s Fire” It
is an acute, localized inflammation of
the skin, characterized by redness
and swelling, and accompanied by
fever and constitutional symptoms.
The disease is contagious and is
caused by a specific micro-organism,
a strain of the streptococcus germ.
It is a fairly common disease, found
‘in every part of the world, but more
frequently in temperate climates.
Individuals of all ages are affected,
the most frequent occurrence being
in ‘the third decade of life. It is
more common in women than in
men. Seasonal influence is shown
the spring and fall months. An at-
tack of erysipelas does not confer
immunity and there is a tendency
to recurrence.
Infection begins at the site of a
wound or abrasion, often too small
to be visible to the naked eye. The
most common site of inflammation is
the face. A small area of the skin
becomes red, swollen and tender,
with a feeling of itching, burning
and tension. The eyelids become so
swollen that the eyes cannot be
opened. The inflammation spreads
rapidly and may extend to both
sides of the face and the ears, caus-
ing the features to be greatly dis-
torted. Fever, headache, nausea and
chilliness develop abruptly after an
incubation period of 2 to 3 days.
Occasionally the throat becomes in-
flamed with intense soreness and
redness of the mucous membrane.
Other points of infection are surgical
wounds and injuries, chronic leg ul-
cers and the navel wound of new-
born. It may follow picking of the
nose and plucking the hairs in the
nose. Apparently healthy individ-
uals may have persistent focal infec-
tion in the nose and sinuses and
may become carriers of the disease.
Absolute rest is essential in
treatment. Local movement and
manipulation in the early stages
tend to spread the infection. Ultra-
violet radiation and administration
of the sulphonamide drugs are ef-
fective in treatment. Relapses and
recurrences are frequent, The re-
moval of septic focal infections in
the teeth and tonsils and latent
streptococcus infections of the nose
and sinuses are necessary. Persons
with nephritis, diabetes and debility
are particularly susceptible to ery-
sipelas.
No matter how many friends a
man may have, there comes a time
when he has one too few.
Released by Keystone Features, Inc,
by an increased number of cases in |-
THE SAFETY VALVE—By Post Readers
An Appeal For Old-Time Religion
May 1, 1942.
Dear Editor:
Those who saw my last letter will
remember I discussed the difficulty
existing in our churches, particularly
the Methodist Church,
And now, out of Wyoming Con-
ference of 1942, comes a heart-stir-
ring, clarion call to Methodists all
over. Bishop Leonard has hit a fine
point when he states to the effect
that religious education has taken
the place of real, old-time Gospel
preaching. The Bishop pleads with
his Church to return to the preach-
ing of the Word of God and Christ :
as Wesley taught.
We like to be fair. And our spirit
of fair play is brought to the front
when one prominent in our Metho-
dist Church sends out such a chal-
lenge.
Is not the Bishop saying precisely
what we said in our last letter?
Let us all pray for the church, that
she may follow her Bishop's advice.
Sincerely,
REV. “BOB” SUTTON,
37 Morgan Road,
Binghamton, N. Y.
Finds A Friend
Editor:
Henson found me before I found
him and we had a couple of good
talks about the people we know
back home. He is only about a city
block from me. I found him down
in a hanger about a mile from here
where he does his work.
Thanks for the information.
Sincerely,
Pvt. W. A. JOHNSON,
Norfolk, Va.,
Pvt. Johnson wrote us some
weeks ago to learn if we might
have the address of Adolph
Henson, who is in the Navy.
Along with Henson's address
Pvt. Johnson also got the ad-
dresses of many other Back-
Mountain boys who are station-
ed in or near Norfolk—Editor.
At Sea
Editor:
For the past few months I have
been entertaining a thought of sur-
prising you with a few lines. But,
as usual, there has always been
something else popping up which
interfered. I am told that a number
of my Dallas friends are wondering
where I am . . . and if I am still in
circulation. For obvious reasons, the
movement of my ship, and other
naval vessels, is Uncle Sam’s secrete
So you see, even my people don’t
know where I am.
Needless to say, I am anxious to
get back to the best little town on
the map and be with its fine people
once more.
intended any particular spot on this
earth to be reserved for Paradise
then He surely must have given a
thought to the Back Mountain coun-
try. In the first place, it is typi-
cally American! believe you me, a
person doesn’t realize those things
until he leaves the place and begins
I believe if God ever!
“More than a newspaper,
a community institution”
THE DALLAS POST
ESTABLISHED 1889
A non-partisan liberal
progressive newspaper pub-
lished every Friday morning
at its plant on Lehman Ave-
nue, Dallas, Penna., by the
Dallas Post.
Entered as second-class matter
at the post office at Dallas, Pa.,
under the Act of March 3, 1879.
Subscription rates: $2.00 a year;
$1.25 six months. No subscrip-
tions accepted for less than six
months. Out-of-state subscrip-
tions, $2.50 a year; $1.75 six
months or less. Back issues,
more than one week old, 10c
cach.
Single copies, at a rate of 5c
each, can be obtained every Fri-
day morning at the following
newsstands: Dallas: Hislop’s Rest-
aurant, Tally-Ho Grille; Shaver-
town, Evans’ Drug Store; Trucks-
ville, Leonard’s Store; Huntsville,
Frantz Fairlawn Store.
Editor and Publisher
HOWARD W. RISLEY
Associate Editor
MYRA ZEISER RISLEY
Contributing Editor
JOHN V. HEFFERNAN
to compare it with many other
towns and rural sections.
I am afraid I can’t give you any
interesting dope about myself or my
life. However, I think I can add this
without any objections from the
censor; that I am on one of the fin-
est and best ships afloat is no secret
and I am proud to be part of its
crew. During peace time the nucleus
of any ship’s company was made up
of old-timers, today it is the raw
recruits from all walks of life. It
is amazing how they respond to
their new life and quickly become
a part of our complex unit. With
‘this crew and our two-fisted cap-
tain—the crew worship him—I
wouldn’t be afraid to go up against
the best that the enemy has to offer.
You would have to be with us and
part of us to understand what I
mean.
I deeply regret that I was unable
to call on you when I was home in
January. I am sure you will under-
stand the reason, if I let you in on
a secret that there is a little heart
throb in the Valley. Next time I
am home it will be different for
both of us will call on you.
With Pleasant Memories.
ANDY KOZEMCHAK,
At Sea
U.S.S.N. Carolina.
Andy: I'm old and married
and got 1,500 baby chicks to
look after nights. Why did you
censor her name? I know what
you mean about Paradise, and
I'd be sure He included that
raspberry patch of your moth-
er's and the boy’s cider press,
too. We're all looking forward
to the day those raspberries
ripen. Good Luck to you Andy
and thanks for a most inter-
esting and inspiring letter—
Editor.
Contributes Editorial
To the Editor:
In the last few weeks I have
called upon many editors in all sec-
tions of the State, Without excep-
tion they have told me they favor
cuts in State taxes. Knowing of
my experience as an editorial writ-
er, some have asked me to write for
them an editorial on this subject.
Here is the editorial I have writ-
ten for you and I am sending it
with the hope that you can find
space for it in your editorial col-
ums.
Please accept this as a personal |
expression of my heart-felt appre-
ciation of your cooperation.
Sincerely,
Paul N. Furman,
Recently Associate Editor
Philadelphia Evening Public Ledger.
Mr. Furman’s editorial leads
our Page 1 editorials this week.
—ZEditor.
From A Post Printer
Dear Editor:
I just have time to write a few
brief lines to let you know where I
am stationed and then I will have to
do some assigned work.
After a few days of “processing”
at New Cumberland I was placed on
a special train of Pullmans along
with hundreds of other boys and
about half of us came to this post,
an Air Corps base.
At present I am working in the)
Public Relations Office where I assist
in the work on the weekly camp
paper, The Booster, and write publi-
city releases for general newspapers.
Being a trombonist of a sort also,
I have beén doing a little playing
with the military band at the post.
Yesterday we played at the Court
House Commons in Dothan.
By the way there is a Pvt. Thomas
A. McCullough here. Is he the boy
I had on the mailing list? If he is,
I'll try to look him up.
If I'm included in the “free copies
for soldiers” offer, send mine to:
Pvt. Wilbur F. Helmbold,
87th Material Squadron,
Napier Field,
Dotham, Alabama.
N. B.—Thanks anyway, even if
you don’t send the Post.
Bill: Being the fourth man
from The Dallas Post to join the
service, how do you think we
could turn you down, especially
since you were the fellow who
took care of all the soldiers’
names on the mailing list? Pvt.
‘Thomas A. McCullough is not
from our area. You are think-
ing of Alex and John Macul-
loch, both stationed at Fort
George Meade. You Post should
arrive with this issue—Editor.
THE SENTINENT
By EDITH BLEZ
AL SIDE
I have had my spring pilgrimage to New York. It seems rather silly to
live so close to New York and make spring and fall pilgrimages to the
big city, but it really makes the largest city in the world much more
exciting to see it once or twice a year. This time I went over for two
definite reasons. First, to see some really good theatre and second, to
NATURE'S WAY
By Frank Jacsson
— RY
The Blue Dahlia
In the April issue of The Flower
Grower, Gordon F. Wasser, editor
of the American Dahlia Society
Bulletin, has an interesting and in-
structive article on “Let's Grow
Good Dahlias.” (By the way I see
the boss has an advertisement in
The Post for this magazine. You
should have it.)
In his article Mr. Wasser, describ-
ing the dahlias, refers to color and
says: “The range of colors and
shading is complete except for blue,
there being no true blue dahlias
thus far.” I felt sorry for this ex-
pert on dahlias for I have seen a
true dahlia, and that is what I want
to tell you about now. I have been
a dahlia grower for many years and
still know little about: them. But
one ‘day while driving from Dallas
on the Kunkle road, I saw a well-
kept garden of dahlias. They were
all staked and cultivated and a few
were in blossom and among the
blooms there was a blue dahlia,
not an Alice Blue or a Robin blue,
nor was it a navy blue—just a blue
blue, if you know what I mean. I
slammed on my brakes and stopped
the car, exclaiming: “there is a mil-
lion dollar dahlia!” Backing up to
the driveway I proceeded to get out
for I wanted to see this dahlia more
closely, and inquire about it for I,
like Mr. Waaser, did not know that
there was such a thing existing. As
I walked to the house many
thoughts ran through my mind.
Could I get possession of it and if
so what must I do to control it,
what outstanding name should it
have and so on. A very pleasant
woman responded to my knock on
the door. Then and there she told
me the story of the dahlia. They
were very slow in blooming and she
was tired of looking at the green
foliage all summer, so she went to
the Five and Dime, bought some
crepe paper and made a few paper
flowers and tied them on the dahlia
stalks. There was my blue dahlia
wrapped up in paper. Instead of
dahlias I got raspberries when I
walked back to the car. Better
watch your step when you see a
blue dahlia.
POETRY
To My Mother
I never had a sister
But you tried to understand
All the trials and the hardships
Of our young folks in our land.
oe
And now that I am happy
With toddlers at my feet
I owe it to my mother
Whose love is hard to beat,
—Helen Reynolds Conrad,
Trucksville.
Mrs. Conrad’s poem, “At
Java,” published a few weeks
ago in The Post, was read at
the Memorial Services for Rich-
ard Cease at the Little-White-
Church-on-the-Hill in Trucks-
ville. In a note accompanying
her poem “To My Mother” Mrs.
Conrad says: ‘Here is a poem
to my mother, (Mrs. Bertha
Reynolds) who avidly scans
her Dallas Post for my poems .
when it arrives in Florida, so I
couldn’t let her down.”
We get keen pleasure out of
Mrs. Conrad’s contributions and
our only hope is that she will
send them in more frequent-
ly.—Editor.
To A Soldier Boy
Blessings on you, soldier boy
You're a credit and a joy
To your Uncle Sam, I know,
As about your work you go.
Helping to serve and protect the
nation,
Upholding the Army’s true repu-
tation
You should be glad you're there, too,
Helping the Red, White and Blue.
Keeping the banner always on high,
Never letting its glory die,
To you, three cheers we’ll always
give
Long may the U. S. Army live!
Everyone is proud of you
And the service that you do,
So may God bless and keep you all
And guide you through each duty’s
call.
Anna Skopic,
(Additional Safety Valve on Page 3)
Star Route, Dallas, Pa.
ride the upper deck of a bus up
and down Riverside drive!
The theatre, for a reason I have
never been able to fathom, is always
better in New York than it is in
Philadelphia. I have been attending
the theatre off and on all winter in
Philadelphia but it never seems to
satisfy what I expect of the theatre.
So when I saw a notice that Candida
was to be revived again with Kath-
erine Cornell and Raymond Massey
and Burgess Meredith in the leading
roles I decided that Candida was
just what I have been waiting for—
and it was!
The play, as most of you know,
was written by the esteemed Ber-
nard Shaw. Dear, old Mr. Shaw
certainly packs a wallop and par-
ticularly so in Candida, the story
of the clergyman and his lovely
wife and the poet who tries to prove
to the clergyman that he knows
nothing about the truth. He insists
that all the clergyman knows is
preaching.
Everything about the play: was
theatre at its very best. Raymond
Massey was perfect in the part of
the clergyman. Not once did he
give even a hint of Abe Lincoln.
He looked and acted the part every
minute he was on the stage. He
was always the clergyman who
loved his wife and couldn’t possibly
understand why anyone would dare
to believe that he wasn’t always
right.
Katherine Cornell was not only
beautiful—and she isn’t you know—
but each time she came on the stage
something happened. She shed a
glow which warmed the audience
to its toes. In each of her scenes
she created a beauty one always
hopes he will feel in the theatre
but doesn’t often realize. Every-
thing about her; her walk, the way
she carries a bunch of flowers, the
way she sat on a chair, the lovely
flowing tones of her voice filled the
theatre with something for which
all drama lovers are hungry.
In spite of Katherine Cornell and
Raymond Massey, Burgess Meredith
was the star of the play. You might
find that a little difficult to believe
after having seen what the movies
have done to him. Before Burgess
Meredith went to Hollywood to
waste his talent on the silver screen
he did marvelous things on the
stage. He was in Winterset, in The
Star Wagon with Lillian Gish, and,
High Tor by Maxwell Anderson, was
his greatest triumph.
Burgess Meredith is in. the Army
now and he came from a camp in
California to play the part of March-
banks in Candida. Meredith played
the part with such finish it seemed
scarcely possible the movies had
practically ruined his art. Every
line was said with such perfection,
every action was studied, every
movement was what one expects of
a real actor. Certinly he is not
handsome. He is such a small fel-
low but on the stage he comes to
life. He is no longer that funny
little fellow who does such outland-
ish things on the screen. He is a
great actor reading lines as Shaw
must have hoped they would have
been read. Katherine Cornell’s art
is certainly no greater than Burgess
Meredith’s when he is given the
proper vehicle.
Candida as portrayed by such
actors and actress is something to
hold dear for ever. Here was thea-
tre as lovers of the theatre hope
they will always see it. It was a
thing of beauty, an hour or two of
perfection which one can keep
locked in his heart only to take out
every now and then to look at again.
Thank goodness there is still good
theatre in the crazy world.” It is
something to be thankful for!
\THE/
FIRST NATIONAL
DALLAS, PENNA.
MEMBERS AMERICAN
BANKERS’ ASSOCIATION
DIRECTORS
R. L. Brickel, C. A. Frantz, W. B.
Jeter, Sterling Machell, W. R. Neely,
Clifford Space, A. C. Devens,
Herbert Hill.
OFFICERS
C. A. Frantz, President
Sterling Machell, Vice-President
W. R. Neely, Vice-President
W. B. Jeter, Cashier
F. J. Eck, Assistant Cashier
Vault Boxes For Rent.
{ No account too small to secure
{ careful attention.