Letters

Letters 8-18-2014

The Climate Clarified

Climate change isn’t an easy subject. A class I’m taking compared it to medicine in a way that was helpful for me: Climate scientists are like planetary physicians. Our understanding of medicine is incomplete, but what we know is useful...

Beware Non-Locally Grown

The article “Farm Fresh?” couldn’t be any more true than exactly stated. As an avid shopper at the local farm markets I want to know “exactly” what I am buying, from GMO free to organic or not organic, sprayed or not sprayed and with what...

Media Bias Must End

I wish to thank Joel Weberman for his letter “Seeking Balanced Israel Coverage.” The pro-Palestinian bias includes TV news coverage...

Proud of My President

The world is a mess. According to many conservative voices, it would not be in such a mess if Obama was not the president. I am finally understanding that the problem with our president is that he is too thoughtful, too rational, too realistic, too inclined to see things differently and change his mind, too compassionate to be the leader of a free world...

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Samantha Tengelitsch

 
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Monday, September 14, 2009

Barn Lady/ Evelyn Johnson

Features Samantha Tengelitsch Barn Lady
Evelyn Johnson’s Quilt Barn Project

By Samantha Tengelitsch 9/14/09

Author Evelyn Johnson became interested in barns when her children purchased an old barn on Old Mission in 2002. “I thought I’d research the barn and surprise them with its history.”
That research spurred Johnson’s passion for barn preservation and lead her to write the book, “Barns of Old Mission Peninsula,” published in 2006. Following publication of the book, Johnson knew she wanted to do more.
“I had heard of these Quilt Barn Trails in Kentucky and Ohio,” so on a trip down to Natural Bridge State Park in Kentucky, Johnson convinced her friends to head off the beaten path.
 
Thursday, May 24, 2007

On the farm: a season for healing

Other Opinions Samantha Tengelitsch As a child, my family lived across from a cherry orchard that stretched out before our house in all directions. It swallowed the land and touched the horizon. I found endless fascination in watching tractors and workers weaving in and out of rows, moving around the evenly spaced trees dotted with blossoms in the spring and
vibrant red cherries in the heat of summer.
 
 
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