Letters

Letters 08-31-2015

Inalienable Rights This is a response to the “No More State Theatre” in your August 24th edition. I think I will not be the only response to this pathetic and narrow-minded letter that seems rather out of place in the northern Michigan that I know. To think we will not be getting your 25 cents for the movie you refused to see, but more importantly we will be without your “two cents” on your thoughts of a marriage at the State Theatre...

Enthusiastically Democratic Since I was one of the approximately 160 people present at when Senator Debbie Stabenow spoke on August 14 in Charlevoix, I was surprised to read in a letter to Northern Express that there was a “rather muted” response to Debbie’s announcement that she has endorsed Hillary Clinton for president...

Not Hurting I surely think the State Theatre will survive not having the homophobic presence of Colleen Smith and her family attend any matinees. I think “Ms.” Smith might also want to make sure that any medical personnel, bank staff, grocery store staff, waiters and/or waitress, etc. are not homosexual before accepting any service or product from them...

Stay Home I did not know whether to laugh or cry when I read the letter of the extremely homophobic, “disgusted” writer. She now refuses to patronize the State Theatre because she evidently feels that its confines have been poisoned by the gay wedding ceremony held there...

Keep Away In response to Colleen Smith of Cadillac who refused to bring her family to the State Theatre because there was a gay wedding there: Keep your 25 cents and your family out of Traverse City...

Celebrating Moore And A Theatre I was 10 years old when I had the privilege to see my first film at the State Theatre. I will never forget that experience. The screen was almost the size of my bedroom I shared with my older sister. The bursting sounds made me believe I was part of the film...

Outdated Thinking This letter is in response to Colleen Smith. She made public her choice to no longer go to the State Theater due to the fact that “some homosexuals” got married there. I’m not outraged by her choice; we don’t need any more hateful, self-righteous bigots in our town. She can keep her 25 cents...

Mackinac Pipeline Must Be Shut Down Crude oil flowing through Enbridge’s 60-yearold pipeline beneath the Mackinac Straits and the largest collection of fresh water on the planet should be a serious concern for every resident of the USA and Canada. Enbridge has a very “accident” prone track record...

Your Rights To Colleen, who wrote about the State Theatre: Let me thank you for sharing your views; I think most of us are well in support of the first amendment, because as you know- it gives everyone the opportunity to express their opinions. I also wanted to thank Northern Express for not shutting down these types of letters right at the source but rather giving the community a platform for education...

No Role Model [Fascinating Person from last week’s issue] Jada quoted: “I want to be a role model for girls who are interested in being in the outdoors.” I enjoy being in the outdoors, but I don’t want to kill animals for trophy...

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Walking in my dad‘s shoes

George Foster - June 23rd, 2008
This year, for the first time, I spent Father’s Day without my dad.
Maybe the holiday heightened my sense of loss, but it seemed that the national media converged more than usual around memorialized fathers.
First, we heard over and over how TV political moderator Tim Russert is no longer here for his son or to honor his own father. No conversation of Russert’s rise to political prominence is complete without the well-documented inspiration from his dad - Big Russ, a sanitation worker from Buffalo.
Tiger Woods surely had his father in mind when he heroically won the U.S. Open on one leg after recent knee surgery. Earl Woods was Tiger’s golf mentor and closest friend before passing away a couple of years ago. My dad loved golf and was in awe of the Tiger Woods phenomenon. He would have been thrilled to watch Tiger’s unlikely win of another major tournament over Father’s Day weekend.
On the other hand, active military fathers (and mothers) seem to be largely forgotten of late in our nervous breakdown over housing foreclosures and high gasoline prices. What about the thousands of families stricken by the casualties of fathers caught in the crossfire of violence in the Middle East? The number of fatherless children suffering as a result of these military ventures must be staggering.
Unlike me, my dad was never preachy. It was his example that spoke volumes to the rest of us. He was always in a good mood, ready to drop everything and lend a helping hand. I never heard of anyone who didn’t like him. My father is greatly missed.
He loyally worked for Buick Motors in Flint for 44 years, rarely missed a day of work, and purchased only GM vehicles. He even gave two fingers to the GM cause, the result of a malfunctioning stamp machine. The accident occurred before unionization - a time when Buick policy rewarded maimed employees with a few hundred dollars.
My father was also a dedicated UAW union man, sitting with the original Flint strikers during the most important union walk out in American history in1936. It is difficult now to imagine an era of autoworkers being paid 37 cents an hour. Walking the picket line for a nickel raise could get you killed in those days. My father and others like him played an important part in guaranteeing a living wage and improved safety conditions for American workers today.
My father’s faithfulness to his marriage never weak-ened as he and my mother spent 68 loving and active years together. Family was most important for him - he felt no shame when bragging about us to perfect strangers. Dad reveled to be able to live his retirement years in Northern Michigan, where he spent much of his childhood. He loved to repeat the stories of our family history here, filled with tales of youthful daredevil deeds, dancehall fights, and frequent jail time for a couple of uncles.
No one messed with my father. Pound for pound he was physically the strongest person I have ever known. Yet, it is his strength of character that I remember most.
Since I have inherited some of his clothes, I can literally feel his sturdy presence. His fleece vests keep me warm against life’s cold blasts of arctic wind. I sense my father’s Buick belt buckle holding it all together when my responsibilities seem a little overwhelming. I often walk with one of his many pairs of New Balance running shoes to guide me. Dad never ran from anything, but New Balance shoes are made in the U.S. and besides, he preferred substance over style.
Ironically, I have never been able to wear my father’s clothes before - as an adult my sizes have been larger. I attribute the mysteriously good fit of my new wardrobe to a higher power suggesting that I need to be more like my dad.
I don’t really need his clothes, though, because I know my father will always be with me. In his own way, he is still nearby, showing me how to walk in the right path.


 
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