PAGE TWO ‘THE DALLAS POST ‘A non-partisan, liberal, and progressive newspaper published every Thursday morning by Northeastern Newspapers Inc. from 41 Lehman Ave., Dallas, Pa. 18612. Entered as second class matter at the post office at Dallas, Pa., under the Act of: March 3, 1889. Subscription within county, $5 a year. Out-of-county subscriptions, $5.50 a year. Call 674:5656 or 674-7676 for subscriptions. National advertising representatives, American. Newspaper Representatives Inc., 186 Joralem St., Brooklyn, N.Y. 11201. ‘publisher Sane sneer PIPE er general manager ........ ftv Wee whi eae editor... uit. A fh ol Seiuwes advertising manager not a prank > Sa Ea .... Henry H. Null 4th Salva ve sms ans ere Rr vans John L. Allen SEAL Se Mrs, T.M.B. Hicks { Doris Mallin [1 The apprehension of the 15-year old girl who placed a telephone call to Dallas Junior High School ? and lied about a bomb being placed there is welcome news. Local and state police are to be commended for discovering this prankster, who, apparently, did not understand the seriousness of her crime. While it may be written off as just a school-kid prank, it must be understood that there is always a chance that a real bomb could be planted in any public place and a secretive warning ignored because authorities considered it false. We are all familiar with the swimming prank whereby someone shouts “Help! I'm drowning.” so often that the person is ignored when really drowning. Not too long ago there were many such bomb scares, all across the nation. In order not to give impetus to the situation, many were not reported for fear other pranksters would take up the matter. We are sure the young lady regrets what she has done. Our hope is that those who influenced her realize the enormity of such actions. tax time again 5 In this age of computers, many people are wondering whether their tax return will be checked. The answer is 100 percent affirmative, The former Commissioner of Internal Revenue says that every one of the 75 million separate returns will be sub- jected to computer surveillance. In addition, about 3 million returns will be selected for detailed audit. And, of course, the more money you make, the better your chance of receiving a visit from an IRS ex- aminer. The IRS stresses that the 65,000 employees of the service endeavor to be fair. Apparently they are mindful that in the final analysis the majority of U. S. taxpayers recognize and willingly accept the obligation of citizens to pay taxes. Survival of the tax system and orderly government rests upon citizen cooperation. Computerization may make tax collecting more efficient, but it is unlikely that it will change to an important degree the need for citizen cooperation to make the system work. That is why taxes must be kept within the ability of the people to pay and why officials have expressed fear" of a taxpayer revolt in recent months. Taxes of all kinds are becoming excessive as the cost of govern- ment rises faster than productivity. Human brains, not electronic brains, problem. are needed to solve this In these days, when so many feel that the changing times are running away with us that the world is getting to be a “lousy?” place to live, I would like to share with those who may read this a brighter look about our beautiful world and a wonderful Back Mountain! On Saturday, March 15, I suffered a deep loss, the sudden death of my brother-in-law Joseph T. Harris. Joe leaves behind a special wife, and lovely family of eight, the youngest only four. Those who knew Joe, and they are numerous know how much he will be missed. So there is no need to try to pay tribute to Joe, who did all he could, whenever he could, even though, as an amputee, his services were limited. I would, at this time, like to pay tribute to someone else, those who have heen all about the Harris family in their grief. Many who themselves, are still in a period of mourning. I cannot think ever again, of this being a ‘‘rotten’’ world, as the expression is so often used because in the past five days, I have seen only the good, ‘‘old- fashioned’’ togetherness that will always be about. The good friends and rela- tives that ‘took over’—tihe neighbors, the church mem- bers, the ambulance crew, the Natona Mills employees of Dallas and New York, the school children, all those who came from out-of-town to ‘‘be there” and help and all those I can’t think of at this time! I speak for the entire family of Joseph T. Harris, thanks and God Bless You all! On the lighter side—just a thought to all the parents who are disappointed because their boys are (temporarily) letting their hair grow. Thomas the eldest son of the Harris family, is a member of the Kings Players, a very good & dramatic class at Kings College. This aunt (also, his God- mother) couldn’t adjust to his long hair, even though he wears it this way, to add to his role in the play. However, never have any young men, long hair, beards and sideburns too, looked better to me, than the Kings players and college friends, who did all they could, during, and after, paying their respects to the Harris family. It’s really the same old world, moving much faster, but the majority of the people are the same—we will adjust. MRS. GEORGE JORDA 46 Yeager Ave. Dallas To THE POST: The Girl Scouts of Troop 653, of Lehman wish to thank the : Dallas Post for our tour of your building. PATRICIA McGRATH Troop Scribe watershed Watershed Association, spon- sored by Departments of Forest and Waters, Agriculture, and Health, will hold regional meet- ings this spring. A meeting is scheduled for April 8, Dallas area. More de- tails will be forthcoming. Slide presentation of prob- lems facing farmers and con- servationists will be highlighted in all meetings. Drainage, flood control, fresh water supply, pollution control, irrigation erosion, silt, will be discussed, along with the grow- ing emphasis on recreational promotion in proper uses of natural resources. - i in ~ bit ; ; FORTY YEARS AGO Howard W. Risley became editor and manager of the Dallas Post, beginning a news- paper career that was to span thirty-two years and see the Post grow from a four page weekly to a twelve page news- paper. High winds broke two window panels of the Dallas Borough's new high school. Preliminary work on the open air swimming pool at Irem Temple Country Club was begun by A. J. Sordoni. Cost of the pool was listed at $50,000. White angora rabbits were won by Martha Russ, Wayne Harvey, and Eva Jenkins for their participation in the Dallas Rotary’s Easter Egg Hunt. The Jones Act was lauded by the Post for putting teeth in the federal prohibition act. It car- ried a 30 to 90 day jail sen- tence for imbibing. : J. F. Besecker, local Good- year Tire dealer, was stocking up on new tires for the Spring trade. THIRTY YEARS AGO Charges of faulty water ser- vice continued to fan interest in a movement to establish a municipally-owned water sys- tem in the Dallas-Shavertown areas. The PUC intimated that a rate increase would follow any improvement program car- ried out by the water company. A flood of letters from Lu- zerne civic leaders to Governor Arthur H. James protested that promised improvements of Main and Bennett Streets had not been made when the Route 309 by-pass was constructed. The request of the Interna- tional Typographical Union that its printers be protected against any merger among the Wilkes- Barre newspapers prolonged the city’s six month newspaper tie-up. : A Lake Silkworth man, Corey Grey, was fatally injured when he was struck by an automobile on the main highway north of West Nanticoke. Died: Herbert R. Culp, 62, Huntsville. James VanTuyle, 72, Center Moreland. Mrs. Anna -. May Kelley, 54, Center More- land. TWENTY YEARS AGO The Dallas Post named a Back Mountain all-star basket- ball team. Players honored were Edwin Jones, Jack Rich- ards, Gene Strauss, Charles Frankenfield and Danny Gulitus. Meade McMillen to head Dallas Rotary. Future Farmers of America, Blue Ridge Chapter, held its eighth annual banquet at Leh- man Township High School. The Sandy Beach Drive-In Theater opened its season after completely renovating and landscaping its grounds. Died: Lewis Roushey, 57, Trucksville. TEN YEARS AGO A mutilated, 400 pound safe containing a considerable sum of cash was stolen from Hus- ton’s Feed Service at Fern- brook and was recovered in an abandoned stolen Jeep on a little used road in the Bunker Hill section of Luzerne Bor- ough. Hats tossed in ring: Jack Stanley as Republican candi- date for School Director and Bill Krimmel as Republican candidate for Supervisor in Dallas Township. Commonwealth Telephone Co., planned ic start plant im- provements at Harveys Lake, Center Moreland, Nexen and Lake Winola. Justice-of-the-Peace Leonard Harvey narrowly escaped ser- ious injury when his car crashed into another auto parked on Columbia Avenue. Married: Doris Helen Varner to George R. Stuart. Died: Frank Brennan, Har- veys Lake. Paul O. Kingsbury, 49, Red Rock. Mrs. Grace Hier. 59, Dallas. Mrs. Joseph A. Pooley, Sweet Valley native. Mrs. Ellen J. Meeker, 59, Leh- man. THE DALLAS POST, MARCH 27, 1969 how does your garbage grow? By NAT MESSIMER Are we going to live on a never-ending sea of garbage? What happens when some fu- ture generation wants to dig a pond on one of our, then hidden, ‘“‘sanitary’’ land fills? What's to become of some of our beautiful woodlands and stream banks which are being turned into dumps, on the sly, and our fields and ravines which are springing up with junkyards and automobile graveyards? When are people going to stop being selfish and realize that this is the only earth we've got. When we've ruined this one. there’s no other. Life on the moon is no alternative. ‘‘But people have been dump- ing garbage for years,” some will say. Yes, but there have not been as many millions of people dumping garbage for all those years. The figures for one day’s garbage in one of our major (The Manteca (Calif.) Bulletin) From time to time in this column we have commented on the tendency for people in gov- ernment not keep the people fully informed about the opera- tions of the public's own agen- cies. course, has been the tendency of the board of trustees of the Manteca Unified School District to run our school affairs along the lines of a board of directors of a private country club. But what is probably the most shocking and flagrant abuse of the public's right to know what is going on in its own affairs was this week’s ac- tion by the city council in sup- pressing a report op the ex of drug and narcotics use in Manteca. Briefly, the chief of police had sought an additional man to his staff in order to free another man for full-time work in the narcotics field. In sup- port of his request. he sub- mitted a ‘‘confidential report” to the city council. The city council approved his request but is keeping the re- port locked in the archives of city hall. In saying why the re- port should be kept confidential, Mayor Cliff Parr said it was being done so as to ‘‘not unduly shock the citizens of Manteca.” In short, it’s none of your damned business to find that your kids might be subjected to a massive drug problem. Or maybe it isn’t massive. And that’s one of the problems in a case of this type—the mere fact that the report is sup- pressed will lead to many ru- mors and the rumors might be even worse than the truth. Anyway, if the report is that “shocking” one would have to conclude that there has either been a marked increase in drug and narcotic use in Man- teca or else the police have ° ‘just discovered it in the past few months. According to the police reports, there was only one narcotic violation in all of 1967. In the first nine months of 1968 (the fourth quarter re- port of the police department .hasn’t been made yet) there were only 10 drug and narcotic cases listed. While this might be considered substantial, an average of one case a month doesn’t indicate that every kid in town is on a marijuana binge. ~ We find it interesting that people in local government have somehow placed them- selves on a pedestal far above the rest of us poor mortals. The report, apparently is too shocking for public consump- tion. We are being asked to believe that the Messrs. Parr, Fuller, Stoker, Behrens and Bressani. along with the chief of police and other city staffers, have all somehow reached a pinnacle of wisdom, combined with an intestinal fortitude that the rest of us don’t enjoy, and thus we can’t be trusted to know what's going on in our community lest we come un- glued. Obviously. there are factors in drug cases which shouldn't be divulged. Any information which would hamper effective police investigation is en- titled to be withheld until the . case is over. But here, appar- ently, we are dealing with } Guest editorials A COLUMN REPRINTING EDITORIALS FROM OTHER WEEKLY NEWSPAPERS IN THE WORLD. A prime example, of cities like New York or Boston are staggering. The attitude of people has always been ‘“‘out of sight, out of mind’’—if they put the garbage where they can’t see it, that’s all that matters. But I can see it. I see it every time I walk down the road through the woods: dumps. a half mile of them bordering a lovely wood- land stream, part of which has been chosen for a state park! Our society is lazy; its sloth- fulness catered to be servile industry. Everything is made easy. disposable. so life be- comes an effortless accumula- tion of waste: cans, bottles, cups, papers; everything to save time and energy. - What do we need all the extra time for; while the conserved energy is turned into fat. As only one of innumerable conservation problems, the garbage crisis must be at- tacked on an individual basis. Everyone can do statistics. So what has happened in the final quarter of the year? Has the previous 10 cases jumped to 50? Or 100? Or 500? One can only speculate. And speculation can only lead to wild rumors. In the first place, it is inevitable that some city councilman or city staffer, after a few highballs at a cocktail party, will leak some of the figures. There simply is no such thing as a completely confi- dential report when a sizeable number of people have had yaccess to it. But information that is ‘‘leaked’’ is often twisted through numerous re-tellings and is less reliable than an of- ficial public record of the af- tivaefair. -~ We can ‘appreciate the city council’s and the city officials’ reluctance to face the unpleas- ant publicity. This has hap- pened in many cities The city council of the city of Manteca is not the American counterpart of the Politburo. Nor is the Manteca Police De- partment an arm of the Central Intelligence Agency. Both are public agencies and should transact their business. as much as possible, in public. We hope that the citizens of Manteca will remind them of this at the first opportunity. Nicholson Sales EGGS Large white 45-53 Brown 43-50 Medium 39-44 POULTRY Roosters 15-17 MISCELLANEOUS Lambs 13.50-17.75 Sheep 8.50-10.75 Butcher hogs 23.50-23.75 Heavy 14.50-16.00 CALVES 70-80 24.50-26.00 80-90 26.25-27.50 90-100 27.75-28.00 100-110 28.75-31.25 110-125 32.00-34.00 125-175 34.25-42.50 200-250 43.00 COWS 800-1000 17.75-18.75 1000-1500 19.00-22.00 Heifers 17.50-26.75 Bulls 23.00-26.25 Steer 20.75-22.75 NUMBER OF ANIMALS SOLD Eggs 45 cases Roosters 18 Lambs 3 Sheep 3 Little Pigs 3 Hogs 4 Calves 353 Cows 118 Heifers 14 Bulls 7 Steer 2 make a hat If you're interested in hat- making, send $2.65 to Hat- making, Agricultural Educa- tion Building. Room 202. Uni- versity Park, Pennsylvania 16802. Make your check or money order payable to The Pennsylvania State University. Your copy of the course will be sent promptly. some- ‘tainer thing about it. : There are such things as compost piles, and there are even machines available to grind up organic garbage. Paper can be used again. It must be saved and taken to the proper place where it can be reprocessed. We don’t have enough forests left to manufacture the acres of paper we use every day. Perhaps someone will dis- cover a method for making. paper out of garbage—they make it with rags! There are, still, returnable bottles. It may be more trouble to take them back, but there isn’t enough room on our planet for millions of people to dump ‘all their bottles. Disintegrating bottles have been made, but they're not on the market yet. Cans are another problem. especially the infernal alumi- num ones which don’t decay as the old ‘‘tin cans’’ eventually do. This is a problem which con- manufacturers must cope with. Just because the garbage collector takes all your trash away doesn’t mean there won’t be a dump some where. Only you can prevent dumps and restaurants for rats. In 1903, Theodore Roosevelt expressed very cogently, but apparently to deaf ears, ‘“‘We have gotten past the stage, my fellow citizens, when we are to be pardoned if we treat, any part of our country as some- thing to be skinned for two or three years for the use of the present generation, whether it be forest, the water, the sce- nery. Whatever it is, handle it so that your children’s children: will get the benefit of it.” From Twenty years.ago, the death- of the Saturday Evening Post would have been immortal- "ized by the largest and most tearful wake in history but two months after the oldest maga- zine in the history of this coun- try gasped its last the country ‘has bothered to ask where it has gone. For awhile there, people shed crocodile tears and remem- bered ‘‘the good old days.” There were editorials about the death of the Saturday Even- ing Post, but nothing you could get your teeth into. The fact is, it committed suicide by easy stages, and gave itself the final coup de grace when it reduced its mailing list to what it con- sidered the hard core of urban dwellers. Nobody ever acquainted the Curtis Publishing Company with the facts of life. It never occurred to the company that people on rural routes, with the advantages of a sub- post office located in a mailbox across the road, are frequently folks who have at long last realized the ambition of a lifetime by acquiring a bit of rural real estate, have moved out into the country, and have bought themselves a horse. They have paid heavy for the privilege of getting out of the city. When the Saturday Evening Post struck off the subscription list, the people who might be supposed to be still living in the dark ages, groping their way about the kitchen by the faint flicker of a kerosene lamp, milking the cows by lantern light, driving to the village in the one-hoss-shay, it sounded its own death knell. This dodge to pare off the off the cuff stuff By BRUCE HOPKINS I was in a hurry. Things like this always happen when you're in a hurry. Fate must like people to take things slowly or something. Anyway, it was early in the morning, and I gathered all of my stuff together, and walked up to my car. When I approached the ominous yellow wonder bird (my car), I noticed that the grill seemed to have a nasty smile on it’s face. I sat in the driver’s seat, turned the key and pulled out the choke, just like I do every morning of my life. and I listened to the car trying to start. It sounded like it had just been struck by a bad case of pneumonia. “Look, Albert,” I spoke calmly and gently using the car’s first name, ‘‘be nice, huh? Don’t give me any trouble to- day—I don't have any Ex- cedrin.” Albert kept on whir- ring. Twice before. when I had been home, Albert had done this to me. And both times I had called the AAA. and they had come and ended up push- ing me. This was the first time - it had ever happened while I was at the trailer (my dwel- ling away from home). “Okay, car,” (it hates to be called ‘“‘car’’), ‘‘you’ve got me mad now. You've done it. You are just lucky I don’t have a violent streak in me or I'd run you through the automatic car wash again.” I got out and slammed the door. I was tempted to stick out my tongue, but the car is really pretty sensitive. I didn’t want to call the AAA. I mean, you know it’s embar- rassing. It’s kind of like calling a baby sitter when you know you're kid is a real stubborn brat. So I did the only other thing I could do—I woke Tom, one of my roommates, who was still in bed. I woke him as gently as pos- sible. “Whantimesitanhow.”’ he . muttered. ? “Oh about 8:30.” I told him. “Wellwhymyouwakin m e e e noow?’”’ “Well, I'm sorry I had to wake you now, but I was won- dering if you could give me a push to get me started.”’ I told him. Moaning and vawning. Tom got out of bed and began push- ing me. “No, no, Tom, I mean I want you to push my car.” Tom told me he didn’t think he had enough energy, and I explained to him that I meant for him to push me with his car. He began to understand, got dressed. and we walked out to the cars. We stood there and plotted the whole thing, planning to push the car by hand over to the edge of the highway where Tom would pull up behind me and push me out and down the road. Simple. He instructed me to gin the car, and show Rim how it wouldn't start. I turned the key, pulled out the choke and the car started immedi- ately. I looked at Tom. Tom looked at me. There was this strange glint in his eyes. ‘‘Heh, heh,” I chuckled nervously, ‘I'm sorry about that Tom.” “Hopkins,” Tom said dryly, ‘‘go put yourself on a lost and found table.” I told Tom I was really sorry. He said it was okay, because undoubtedly the ‘Lord was punishing him for something drastic he must have done. He walked away muttering. Unfortunately I was in a hurry the next morning too. In this closet-on-wheels that the three of us are inhabiting. I keep my insulin syringes on a shelf above my other room- mate’s (Dale’s) (also know as Baby Whale’s) bed. Every morning I pass by Baby Whale’s trundle on my way to the sand- box (that’s what we call the toilet), and I reach up on the shelf and grab an insulin syringe. Well, since everyone was still in bed on this par- ticular morning, I was doing my best to remain quiet. As I, passed by Dale’s bed, I reached up, grabbed a syringe, knocked over the box, and 49 syringes fell down on top of Dale’s face. This woke him up. He lay there staring up at me and frowning. “Heh, heh, morning Whale,” I said as I quickly gathered up the syringes. ‘‘See, you looked like you were having a terrible nightmare, and I thought I ought to wake you to save you from whatever horrors you were undergoing.’ . ‘‘Hopkins,”’ Dale said, ‘‘go to your room.’”’ He rolled over. screamed, reached under his stomach, and handed me an insulin syringe that I had missed. “You know what, Hopkins,’ Dale muttered, ‘Life is a black tuxedo, and you're a pair of brown shoes.” (Dale always was the philosopher of the group.) Hey. listen, I hope you don’t get the idea from this that my roomates don’t love me. They do. Really they do. Why just the other day Tom said to me, “Bruce we're glad you're liv- ing here with us.” “Thanks Tom, I'm glad you're glad.” CINE “To show our appreciation, Bruce, we're going to let you do the dishes tonight. SEE YA! Pillar To Post By HIX surplus yokels in favor of sub- scribers who still steamed in urban jungles, annoyed the owners of swimming pools, members of the country club, and those lesser lights who simply had a few acres of improved land, who had been faithfully supporting the maga- zine for years, even after it started sliding downhill in the fifties. You couldn’t get along with- out the Saturday Evening Post. Even it its new format, an offense to the eye of peoplg who had sworn by it since th time of the Spanish American War, the magazine still carried enough reading matter to keep a family going for a week, until the next issue bulged the mailbox. And then it started to reduce fy its bulk. It grew skinnier and skinnier, and the reading matter changed along with changing times. Picture maga- zines crowded it off the stage. It was a lot easier to “read” an issue of Life than to read an issue of the Saturday Evening Post. Reading requires concen- tration, and anybody can look at a picture and get the mes- sage. Besides, there wasn’t too much to read in the steadily shrinking publication. It kept a householder entertained for only one small evening, and the TV was always there, crowding in on the reading period. There came a time when the Saturday Evening Post fell to the floor as the good guys and the bad guys slugged it out on the screen. Silver . tongued news commentators pre-empted the place jr maly occupied by the editorials. In case anybody thinks Hix was one of the folks who got bumped off the subscriptio list, forget it. Hix een ¥) taken the Saturday Evenin Post since it changed its spots right after the close of World War II. It used to be the one magazine nobody could do with- out, and it used to be obtain- able for one nickel at any corner store, if you didn’t happen to have a subscription. When the price went up and quality went down, that’s when the final curtain started to fall. Nobody minded a dime, nobody minded a quarter, but when the content was not matched by the soaring price, a lot of - people took a good long look at what their subscription price was getting them, and) can- celled out. Watered down skim milk. that’s what, masquerading as cream. But if the company had y adopted that policy of cutting” out what it considered excess baggage, Hix might be shed- ding a tear into the skimmed milk. 4 After all, the Saturday Even: . ing Post has been around a long time, and it rated a few wreaths of remembrance. But nobody, passing around the bier (no pun intended), could have gulped, ‘How nat- ural it looks.” Girl Scouts Troop 656. Carverton, at- tended the 11 a.m. church ser- vice at the Carverton United Methodist Church on Girl scout Sunday. Along with their sister Brownie troop 635, they pre- sented the flowers and church bulletins for the service. The service was opened by the presentation of the troop and American Flags by Jane Marstell. Debbie Casterline. Cindy Cobleigh. Nancy Voitek. Assisting Rev. Schalk in the pulpit were: Susan Richards, . Call to Worship: Elsie Harris, Prayer, Debbie Wasserott, Psalter: Sandy Perry. Scrip- ture. 3 ; The troops sang ‘‘America the Beautiful’ accompanied by Mrs. Faye Perry. organist. The offering was taken by Lynn Wolfe and Donna Hoover. Troop committee: Mrs. Elea- nor Richards, Mrs. Hildegard Wolfe. Mrs. Lois Perry. Leader Mrs. Joan Wasserott. comers Ba wn =n + + ON AN! OST OoOMm OS «ONO ret ODT =~ pe PN Ne SN = BR A A
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers