Letters

Letters 08-03-2015

Real Brownfields Deserve Dollars I read with interest the story on Brownfield development dollars in the July 20 issue. I applaud Dan Lathrop and other county commissioners who voted “No” on the Randolph Street project...

Hopping Mad Carlin Smith is hopping mad (“Will You Get Mad With Me?” 7-20-15). Somebody filed a fraudulent return using his identity, and he’s not alone. The AP estimates the government “pays more than $5 billion annually in fraudulent tax refunds.” Well, many of us have been hopping mad for years. This is because the number one tool Congress has used to fix this problem has been to cut the IRS budget –by $1.2 billion in the last 5 years...

Just Grumbling, No Solutions Mark Pontoni’s grumblings [recent Northern Express column] tell us much about him and virtually nothing about those he chooses to denigrate. We do learn that Pontoni may be the perfect political candidate. He’s arrogant, opinionated and obviously dimwitted...

A Racist Symbol I have to respond to Gordon Lee Dean’s letter claiming that the confederate battle flag is just a symbol of southern heritage and should not be banned from state displays. The heritage it represents was the treasonous effort to continue slavery by seceding from a democratic nation unwilling to maintain such a consummate evil...

Not So Thanks I would like to thank the individual who ran into and knocked over my Triumph motorcycle while it was parked at Lowe’s in TC on Friday the 24th. The $3,000 worth of damage was greatly appreciated. The big dent in the gas tank under the completely destroyed chrome badge was an especially nice touch...

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Lisa Franseen, PhD

 
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Thursday, March 3, 2005

Coping with Environmental Depair

Other Opinions Lisa Franseen, PhD Have you ever had the experience, after hearing of some recent destruction to the planet, of feeling almost panicky? Disgusted? Angry or sad? Or maybe you remember having those reactions but don’t seem to anymore?
I remember coming home from school one day – back in the 8th grade -- to find that the field next door had been ripped out and marked for development. Every tree was gone, the sled hill was gone, my underground fort gone, all life was gone. And the first thing to pull tears to my eyes and bring a wail to my throat, looking out at the raped landscape before me, was thinking about all the pheasants that had suddenly lost their home.
My family used to put corn out for those pheasants, the male and all his hens, and watch them one by one scurry over to eat. Multiply that by thousands with all that I have witnessed since then, locally and internationally... it can be a bit overwhelming. And how easy it is to begin to tune it all out.
Is this despair okay? What do we do with it? And what happens when we do nothing, or bury it? And what would a workshop on environmental despair accomplish? (March 11-13 at the Neah-ta-wanta Inn on Mission Peninsula.)
 
 
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