PAGE TWO
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BROADWAY AND MAIN STREET
Well Made Plans Of Many Men
Go Wrong — Without Murder
By BILLY ROSE
If you’ve nothing better to do for the next three minutes, let’s
play a game called “Answer Yes or No.”
Question: If a doctor were accused of allowing a mean old
man to die who only had a week to live anyhow, and you were on
the jury, would you find him guilty of murder?
A dopey question, you say, because it leaves you no choice? Well, let
me brief you on the events leading up to the crime and then put the ques-
tion to you again . .
The mean old man—let’s call him
Andrew Horton—was a millionaire
of the almost extinct rough-’em-up
Jay Gould school, and among the
people he delighted
in pushing around
was his son, An-
drew, Jr. To round
out the picture, it
must be admitted
that the youngster
pretty much rated
this treatment: He
was a weak-chinned
and weak - willed
society kid who in
his teens had de-
veloped a cordial
dislike for two things—(a) work,
and (b) his father who insisted on
it.
A few months after the boy's 21st
birthday, the old man came down
with a heart attack that all but did
him in, and the specialist who was
called in informed the son that his
pop didn’t figure to live more than
a week or so.
. . .
Billy Rose
THAT NIGHT, to celebrate his
coming of fortune, the young man
went out and tied on quite a pack-
age, and on the way home drove
his car through a plate-glass win-
dow on Madison avenue. He was
arrested and promptly bailed out,
but the story hit all the front pages.
When his father saw the papers
the next morning, he almost had
another stroke, and it didn’t help
when the boy faced up to him and
blurted out that in a short time
he’d be doing as he darn well
pleased.
When bis son left, the million-
aire sent for bis lawyer. “I'm
going to teach that kid of mine
a lesson,” be told him. "Fix up a
new will where be doesn’t get a
penny and bring it back this after-
noon. The doctor can witness my
signature.”
“What beneficiary do you want
to name?” asked the lawyer.
‘““Make it out to one of those out-
fits for medical research,” said the
old man.
. . -
THAT AFTERNOON the will was
executed in the presence of the
doctor,
“That’s ' a fine gesture,” the
physician told his patient when the
lawyer had gone. ‘That amount of
money will finance a lot of impor-
tant work.”
“Only idiots leave money to in-
stitutions instead of their own kin,”
said the old millionaire. “I didn’t
bother telling that fool lawver, but
the will you witnessed is only in-
tended to throw a scare into my
son. Tomorrow or the next day when
he comes to his senses, I'm going
to tear it up and reinstate the old
will.”
Late that night the patient bad
another attack, and when the doc-
tor examined him be knew it was
touch and go—given the proper
medication, the old skinflint
might be kel? alive long enough
to reinstate the original will; a
slightly different dose, however,
ana be didn’t figure to survive the
night.
Well, as I get the story, he died
a few hours later and his millions
were used to set up one of the im-
portant research centers in the
East. As for the son, he turned out
to be as big a bum without money
as with... ..
Now to get back to my original
question: With the facts before you,
would you find the doctor guilty or
not guilty of murder?
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THE POST, FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1950
DRAMATIC
By Mary C. Gilbert
=
Recently a manuscript was re-
turned to a writer, because ‘the
story is improbable, too dramatic
and unreal.” This story was true,
and I shall tell it to you.
The September day had been hot
and sultry and Teresa Harmon,
checking charts in maternity, was
thinking how happy she would be
to leave at eight.
She had accumulated time off and
was going home to Fairdale, this
Friday night, on the local that
meant she could see and visit with
hometown friends returning after
a day’s shopping in the city.
She was to see her sister mar-
ried in the morning. She smiled
whimsically recalling young Ce-
celia’s statement “You can be a
maternity nurse if you want to,
and devote your life to other wo-
men’s babies—I intend to have and
take care of my own—no synthetic
motherhood for me!” What a child
she was, and how dear to all who
knew her.
The telephone buzzed—and she
reached for and mechanically an-
swered “Maternity, Miss Harmon”.
The gruff voice of Dr. Jones
spoke—‘I'm sending Mrs. Jenson
in, she will need a transfusion and
we have to give her a spinal anes-
thesia, please attend her personally,
Miss Harmon. I'll be over in twenty
minutes.”
For a moment all exhuberance
and pleasant anticipation left Ter-
esa Harmon, for she knew that
she could not possibly make the
train that would take her home
that night. She thought “synthetic
motherhood has its disadvantages
too, but perhaps by being here and
knowing my work I can ease moth-
erhood for Mrs. Jensen, anyway
that is what I must do, whether I
want to or not.”
Quite sometime later, over re-
ports, Dr. Jones said, “Thank you
for your quick and efficient work
here. You are responsible for saving
two lives tonight.”
At that moment the hospital
loudspeakers began to repeat, “All
nurses, doctors, and internes not on
active duty report at once to the
receiving ward. Emergency!”
Dr. Jones started for the eleva-
tors at once, leaving Miss Harmon
to finish the reports while the
speaker droned on and on its mes-
sage of disaster.
Shortly— “Miss Harmon, turn
over Maternity to Miss Boyce and
report, at once to the receiving
ward.”
Dr. Jones met her in the hall and
spoke quickly, “You live in Fair-
dale, don’t you?” “Yes.” “Know
many people there and in towns
and villages between here and
there?” “Yes, Dr. Jones.” Dr.
Jones put a steadying hand on her
arm as he ordered “You will be
required to identify the injured
being brought in, as nearly as you
can, for that train you so often
take when you go home, was halted
a mile out of the city on signal,
and rammed by a heavy freight.”
Through that long night, Teresa
Harmon stood by and identified her
friends and neighbors as they were
brought in.
Only at the last, when she looked
upon the dead face of the young
woman who was to have sung at
her sister’s wedding, did she give
way to emotion.
Then it was, that she turned to
Dr. Jones and said “There, but for
the grace of God and Mrs. Jensen's
baby, go I!”
Yes, this story is dramatic even
as life is dramatic, more so than
any fiction ever written. And if it
is improbable and unreal—well, so
is life.
LOOK
For The Name
REALTOR
when buying or selling
real estate.
The principal interest
of a realtor is to see
that the transaction,
large or small, is com-
pleted in an intelligent,
ethical manner.
Your local realtor
D. T. SCOTT JR.
Dallas 224-R-13
D. T. SCOTT
and Sons
REALTORS
10 East Jackson Street
Wilkes-Barre, Pa.
THE DALLAS POST
“More than a newspaper,
a community institution”
ESTABLISHED 1889
Member Pennsylvania Newspaper
Publishers’ Association
A non-partisan liberal
progressive mewspaper pub-
lished every Friday morning
at the Dallas Post plant
Lehman Avenue, Dallas
Pennsylvania.
Entered as second-class matter at
the post office at Dalias, Pa., under
the Act of March 3, 1879. Subscrip-
tion rates: $2.50 a year; $1.50 six
‘months.. No subscriptions accepted
for less than six months. Out-of
state subscriptions: $3.00 a year;
$2.00 six months or less. Ba
issues, more than one week old, 10¢
Single copies, at a rate of 6c each,
can be obtained every Friday morn-
Ing at the follow newsstands :
Dallas— Tally-Ho Grills, Bowman's
Restaurant; Shavertown, vans’
Drug Store; Ti Hi 's
Store; Shaver's Store; Idetown—
Caves Store; Huntsville— Bames
Store; Alderson—Deater's Store;
Fernbrook—Reese’s Store.
When requesting a change of ad-
dress subscribers are asked to give
their old as well as new address.
Allow two weeks for changes of ad-
dress or new subscription to be placed
on mailing list.
We will not be responsible for the
return of unsolicited manuscripts,
photographs and editorial matter un-
less self-addressed, stamped envelope
Is enclosed, and in no case will we
be responsible for this material for
more than 80 days.
National display
63¢ per column inch.
Local display advertising rates b0c
per column inch; specified position 60c
per inch.
Classitied rates
Minimum charge 50c.
Unless paid for at advertising rates,
we can give no assurance that an-
nouncements of plays, parties, rummage
sales or any affairs for raising money
will appear in a specific issue. In no
case will such items be taken on
Thursdays.
Preference will in all instances be
given to editorial matter which has not
previously appeared In publication.
Editor and Publisher
HOWARD W. RISLEY
Associate Editor
MYRA ZEISER RISLEY
Contributing Editor
MRS. T. M. B. HICKS
Sports Editor
WILLIAM HART
advertising rates
Sc per word.
ONLY
YESTERDAY
From The Post of ten and
twenty years ago this week.
Ten years ago in the Dallas Post,
September 13, 1940
Henry W. Peterson will head
the P.T.A. for Dallas Borough
schools for the current year. Other
officers are: T. A. Williammee, vice
president; Mrs. Nelson Shaver,
secretary; Joseph Jewell, treasurer.
Protesting parents who engineer-
ed a two-day strike on the part
of their Dallas Township children
because of a bus schedule which
picked up Alderson-Kunkle children
first in the morning and delivered
them last at night, are calling off
the strike pending investigation
and correction by the school board.
Joseph MacVeigh, chairman of
the zoning committee for Dallas
Borough, reports that he hopes to
have a tentative plan ready to
submit to the October Council
meeting, one which will divide the
town into districts and fix certain
regulations for buildings to the
end that property owners may be
protected in residential areas.
The Post goes on record as
wanting: The election of Wendell
Wilkie as president; local progress
in training civilians in defense
measures; installation of fire-plugs
in Dallas; construction of a short
route to Harveys Lake before
1942; centralization of police pro-
tection in the Dallas-Dallas Town-
ship area; more sidewalks.
Back Mountain will retain its
old familiar name if ballots cast
to find a new one for the area are
an indication. “Back Mountain”
is in the lead to date, with ‘“Moun-
tain Parkway’ a poor second and
“Ruralvania’” in third place. ‘“Bed-
ford Hills”, fourth, was suggested
by. Mrs. Herbert Smith because
Dallas was once called Bedford.
Temperance Council
Meets At Kingston
Luzerne County Youth Temper-
ance Council enjoyed a covered
party and dues paying rally at
Dorranceton Methodist Church
Monday.
Present were: Andrew Keller,
Lloyd Smith, Elsie Jean Ide, Doris
Spencer, Evelyn Keller, Ethel Ide,
Shirley Broody, David Whitney,
Stephen Krupinski, Burl Updyke,
Shirley Britt, Carl Rood, Bill Wil-
liams, Mrs. Schroeder, Mrs. Sorber,
Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Elsworth, Mrs.
Arnold, Mrs. Moss, Mrs, Samuels,
Mrs. McKeenie, Mrs. Edward Keen,
president of the Luzerne County
W.C.T.U., Ronald Lamoreux and
Morris Lamoreux.
Floyd Smith, David Whitney,
Shirley Britt and Evel Keller
were appointed as a deputation
| team.
Next meeting will be held Mon-
day, October 2 at 7:30 p.m. at
the home of Evelyn Keller, Ide-
town.
—as
YOU KNOW ME
BY
Al, Himself
a —&3
What is life? No one knows.
All we know is we are born, live
a while and then die. Instinct
teaches us to preserve life. Belief
makes it easier for us to dié.
One turns over a rock in the
garden. Hundreds of .ants scurry
to their underground homes, each
carrying an egg to safety. They
know that those eggs represent
the future destiny of the colony.
The queen bee leaves her hive
for the first time. She flies to
great heights followed by the
drones. One drone lives in ecstasy
for a moment and then falls to
earth dead. This is so that the
new hive shall have life.
A bear will run from man, but
let her cub be in danger and she
will attack even though the man
has a rifle.
A wren will hatch her eggs and
for weeks wear her body out
gathering food for hungry months,
but
NO INSECT, BIRD OR LOWER
ANIMAL WILL LOSE ITS LIFE
THROUGH CARELESSNESS. Only
man shortens his or other lives
by disregarding the laws of physics.
No matter how often we have
been warned, no matter what
dreadful experience we have en-
countered, we still thoughtlessly go
on killing each other.
We know that speeding fifty
miles an hour in a car is a gamble
that will win us nothing and may
lose our lives, but still we do it.
We know that a train capable
of traveling seventy miles an hour
should have all the safety devices
contrived by man, yet we still allow
railroads to stick to the old
fashioned light block system that
has proven time and time again
that it does not stop wrecks.
We know by the process of
simple arithmetic that when flares
are placed 1,000 yards behind a
standing ‘troop train that an on-
coming train going thirty-five miles
an hour can cover that distance in
fifty-nine seconds.
In these days when even police
cars can be equipped with wire-
less phones it would seem to us a
simple matter to compel railroads
to do likewise so that a halted
trains crew can telephone back
to all trains on that track its
position.
Yes, we know that the Spirit
of St. Louis had a phone, but not
primarily installed as a safety
measure. It is mostly for use of
business passengers. There was
no phone on the troop train. Had
there been the conductor could
have telephoned back to the on-
coming train the troop train's ex-
act position in the signal block.
We intended to write something
about Harveys Lake this week,
but who can write when the entire
valley is mourning its soldier dead ?
Boys died because of our careless-
ness. Oh, it’s easy enough to shrug
the blame off on the railroad. It’s
easy to ask why those responsible
for the troop train didn’t take
further precautions than just place
a few flares back a distance of a
hundred yards, but no matter how
we try to shift this blame it keeps
coming back into our conscience
that we are also at fault.
An investigation will be made,
certainly. Representative Flood
has so stated—but what then?
As for us, we are going to have
a talk with Mr. Flood asking if it
is not possible for him to introduce
a law in Congress compelling safer
devices for trains such as we men-
tioned above, and if it is, we are
going to ask different organizations
to push it.
Maybe one day, lives will not be
snuffed out because of our lack-
adaisical attitude that present
safety laws are sufficient.
Senior Woman's Club
Plans Rummage Sale
Dallas Senior Woman's Club will
hold a rummage sale October 26
and 27 at the Lare Building, Main
street, Luzerne. Mrs. Harold Payne
is chairman, Mrs. Francis Ambrose
and Mrs. James Houston co-chair-
men.
We “spring” to the oc-
casion when your chair
needs rebuilding. Let us
give you an estimate for
our expert re-webbing,
re-covering job, today!
CENTRAL
Upholstering Co.
Rear of Gregory Barber Shop
Dallas, Fa.
PHONE 551-R-8
-
WV Barnyard Notes ;
Fitting it seems to me at this hour is Rupert Brooke's finest poem
“The Great Lover”.
Through these fifty-one lines of exquisite verse he has captured
the vitality of youth, ecstatic as the morning dip of a boy in a Back 1
i
Mountain stream. The spring of these emotions is the natural
body, but it sends pulsations far into the spirit.
. and so Rupert Brooke, himself a sensitive young soldier who
died for England, in 1915 at twenty-eight, has written the words I
think the men of the 109th would have liked..
These I have loved:
White plates and cups clean-gleaming,
Ringed with blue lines: and feathery faery dust;
Wet roofs beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust
Of friendly bread; and many tasting food; N
Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke of ood: :
And radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers;
And flowers themselves, that sway through sunny hours,
Dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon;
Then the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon
Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss
Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is shining
And free; blue-massing clouds; the keen
Unpassioned beauty of a great machine;
The benison of hot water; furs to touch;
The good smell of old clothes; and other such—
The comfortable smell of friendly fingers,
Hair’s fragrance, and the musty reek that lingers
About dead leaves and last year’s ferns
Dear names
And thousand others throng to me! Royal flames;
Sweet water’s dimpled laugh from tap or spring;
Holes in the ground; and voices that do sing;
Voices in laughter, too; and body's pain,
Soon turned to peace; and the deep panting train;
Firm sands; the little dulling edge of foam
That browns and dwindles as the wave goes home;
And washen stones, gay for an hour; the cold
Graveness of iron; moist black earthen mould;
Sleep; and high places; footprints in the dew;
And oaks; and brown horse-chestnuts, glossy new;
And new-peeled sticks; and shining pools on grass;—
All these have been my loves. And these shall pass,
Whatever passes not in the great hour,
Nor all my passion, all my prayers have power
To hold them with me through the gate of Death.
They'll turn deserter, turn with traitor breath,
Break the high bond we made, and sell Love's trust
And sacramented covenant to the dust.
—Oh, never a doubt but, somewhere I shall wake,
And give what's left of love again, and make
New friends, now strangers
But the best I've known,
Stays here, and changes, breaks, grows old, is blown "
About the winds of the world, ‘and fades from brains k "
Of living men, and dies.
Nothing remains,
O dear my loves, O faithless once again J
This one last gift I give: that after men
Shall know, and later lovers, far-removed,
Praise you, “All these were lovely”; say, “He loved”.
WHAT OTHER EDITORS SAY—
Rapid Community Growth Brings New Problems
[From the Beaver Valley Times]
One of the most tremendous building booms in the
history of Beaver County—both commercial and domestic
—is under way today. In some areas bustling activity
resembles a latter-day Tonapah.
It's a good sign, this construction boom. It is signific-
ant, in that it shows the country to be moving ahead.
But along with it comes a multiplicity of problems.
The sad fact is—municipal government services and edu-
cational facilities in many cases are not keeping pace
with rapidly expanding needs.
One of the most acute problems generated by the
domestic building rush is the necessity for additional
school accommondations for children.
Hopewell Township is significant in this respect. Al-
though its population rapidly is becoming out-size,
neither school nor municipal service facilities are broad
enough to accommodate. Literally, Hopewell Township,
and other communities in the county, are growing “too
big for their britches.”
Farsighted school administrators in this particular
township have seen the necessity for additional facilities.
But they are hampered by lack of local revenue sources
with which to broaden services. And the state can’t see
its way clear to aid beyond a certain financial point.
Originally, it was planned to construct with state aid
a 40-room consolidated high school in Hopewell, for Hope-
well, Raccoon and Independence Townships. It was
termed necessary that 40 rooms be built, to take up the
current overflow and provide for future school populace
potential.
The state, however, says it can’t afford to help Hope-
well build over 28 rooms.
That is an improvement (the district is considering
half-day classes), but it may not be enough. The way
the township is growing, the same problem may avail
itself in another five or ten years. a
Several hundred private dwellings have been con-
structed, or projected for construction, this very day.
That means new roads, maintenance problems, fire pro-
tection, sewage system construction and maintenance and w
other various and sundry municipal responsibilities.
Where the money is coming from, the Lord only knows.
The new tax gains definitely are not enough to accom-
modate initial municipal outlay termed necessarily ideal.
The situation is somewhat the same as it was 50 years
ago, when the Aliquippa district hastily was being slam-
med together with utterly no respect for future needs.
Lack of planning created a terrific problem for this cur-
rent generation to bear. Proper zoning regulations and
other factors qualified for future needs would have
avoided this.
It will take sound government and civic thinking to
assure the county of a strong municipal future.