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Outdated Thinking This letter is in response to Colleen Smith.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...

Home · Articles · News · Other Opinions · May we all rest in peace...
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May we all rest in peace ( and quiet)

Dale S. Scott - August 25th, 2008
The morning sun peaks into our bedroom window. Most noticeably during the “in between” seasons.
Early to mid-spring as the sun shines higher in the northern hemisphere, before the leaves pop out.
And in the fall after the cold wet wind has blown those same leaves from the maple trees that encroach upon our third floor love-nest from the north and east.
Once or twice each April that same east window is rattled by sleet laced winds when they seem to be trying to turn our house around or turn our gaze to the south and the approach of summer.

Fifteen years of blissful nights have come and gone in this bedroom and not once has my door been beaten down by the combat boots of foreign or domestic soldiers. Imagine the terror imprinted into the hearts and minds of the Iraqi families who suffer this indignation! A handful of U.S. soldiers, barking commands in a foreign tongue or curt Arabic, busting into your room in the dark of night with weapons aggressively readied.

Each night in late spring, we leave our south-facing bedroom window open just a crack. The fresh air is a gift.
Several times during these weeks I will be awakened by a barely perceptible sound from just beyond the gardens.
The birth of a Shetland lamb, or perhaps twins, is imminent and often announced by the mother with a very special bleat, or groan, or grunt.
Moments later I may be seen in bathrobe and sheep boots with a bucket of warm water and molasses, wending my way among the dormant veggie and flower beds toward the barn.
The life cycle has begun again in the peacefulness of the early morning.
Our southern bedroom window is much like a series of still life paintings progressing each morning when we rise
from the planting and greening of our gardens through harvest and browning down in the fall.

These past 15 years of spring lambing and changing lushness of gardens has not once been marred by helicopter gun ships strafing our rooftop, walls, or gardens. Nor has there been a single instance when foreign military bulldozers have entered our compound intent upon crushing our barns, gardens, or fruit trees.
To the Palestinian people, who for a half-century have been impounded by the Israeli government, these invasions of privacy are surly more akin to prison guard abuses made worse by the knowledge that many of the weapons exploded among them are built and funded by the United States. Both U.S. and Israeli investors in military equipment and munitions are counting their profits while the product of such investments is shattering lives. And peace. And quiet.

When the outdoor temperatures dip into the 10s and 20s, both above and below zero degrees Fahrenheit, our bedroom window that faces the west displays the spectacular red-orange fireball of winter sunsets.
While the hawk blows in from the northwest we lie and watch the 75-foot-tall maple, white ash, and beach trees thrash about high above us and creak and snap under the stress of the wind and the cold.
Each year, a few of these giants succumb to these forces and end up in our woodstove, creating the gentle heat that rises to keep us snug in our peaceful sanctuary.

Not one time during these winter nights of near hibernation has a soldier of the “War on Terrorism” entered our sanctuary and announced that I or my wife would be detained because our names looked a lot like names on a list of suspected friends of possible acquaintances of probable Muslims. Or because an anonymous tipster had suggested that our website favorites contained the address of the Aljazeera news. Imagine the contempt for “freedom” and “democracy” that would take hold and grow in a community that experienced even one such incident!

Dale S. Scott of Harbor Springs is a member of the folk band Peacemeal.
 
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