Illinois Valley News, Cave Junction, OR Wednesday, December 4, 2002
Page 2
A long time ago, or at least in the early 1950s -- when the
editor was wearing striped T-shirts, blue jeans with the cuffs
rolled up about 4 inches, and black-and-white high-top tennies --
he had a best friend we’ll call Tyler.
Tyler wasn’t in the same classroom as I. But he did attend the
same school, which in this case was El Toyon Elementary School,
then a brand-new facility amid a bunch of new housing develop-
ments (three-bedroom, two-bath homes for $14,500). Our family
lived in National City at the time, in a territory so close to the
edge of the city of San Diego boundaries that sometimes there
was confusion with deliveries, and whether the National City Po-
lice or San Diego PD should be phoned for help.
Tyler, a bit slighter than I and with freckles and reddish hair,
always wore denim outfits, either cinnamon- or light green or
gray-colored. I think that his mom, a somewhat grim lady, bought
them for him at a military commissary. Tyler always had his
jacket zipped, and he wore shirts with collars. His father was a
retired U.S. Navyman, who continued to work in retirement as a
Civil Service employee at one of San Diego’s military facilities;
North Island Naval Station, I believe. He drove a brand-new,
green-and-white 1956 Chevy station wagon; the low-budget ver-
sion, not the coveted Nomad model.
Tyler was one of those best buddies who possessed mechani-
cal-type skills that escape some kids, such as the person writing
this column. So when I needed help putting reflectors on the rear
of my wonderful Schwinn Corvette, Tyler “helped” me, using his
dad’s drill. Actually, he did all the work while I watched and
made dopey comments. And he was always willing to give me a
can of ginger ale and a couple of Oreos when I’d come to his
house to hang around.
His mom, grim as she seemed, took Tyler and me to Balboa
Park occasionally. We’d visit the museums and such. Only thing
is, I got poor old Tyler in trouble once at the Museum of Man.
Tyler had this idea that we would play catch with a small, red ball
-- with him on a balcony of the museum, and me on the grass be-
low and behind the place. For some inexplicable reason I became
devilish, and purposely tossed the ball so that Tyler would miss it.
This caused a museum employee to become a bit irate, and he
held onto Tyler (by his zipped jacket) until his mom (Tyler’s, not
the museum employee’s) returned. We both were in trouble then,
but eventually it blew over. However, Tyler never asked me to
play catch again.
As with all best buddies, we decided one summer night on a
Dangerous Mission, sort of to prove how brave we could be.
Something like that.
Our school consisted of several classroom buildings, each
split down the middle by a breezeway corridor. In them were con-
tained the “Boys” and “Girls” rooms, janitorial rooms, and equip-
ment storage. They were unlighted, probably because no one was
supposed to be there at night. Except for Tyler and me.
We chose a moonless night that included a spooky little
breeze. Together we walked to the school in the dark; then stood
outside the first entry to the first corridor. Dark is a word that
doesn’t have a lot of meaning, unless you’re in the fifth- or sixth-
grade, used to light, and you’ve seen a lot of horror films. Having
a big imagination goes along with the fear of entering a pitch-
black opening, too.
Together we stepped forward. Together we walked, each with
one arm draped over the shoulders of the other. Darkness pre-
vailed. We literally couldn’t see our hands in front of our faces.
By the time we got to the fourth and final corridor, we were whis-
tling. The tune was, “Whenever I’m afraid …” We also were
laughing in that odd way that people do when they’re scared, but
don’t want anyone else to know it.
We survived our Walk of Darkness. We felt good about it.
And we stayed friends for a few more years, before drifting apart,
as he continued in the public school system, and I was banished to
parochial schools.
And every once in awhile, especially when faced with dark-
ness, I wonder whatever happened to my good friend, Tyler.
Maybe he’ll show up some day, and we’ll play catch.
Illinois Valley News
An Independent Weekly Newspaper Co-owned and published by
Robert R. (Bob) and Jan Rodriguez
Bob Rodriguez, Editor El Jefe
Entered as second class matter June 11, 1937 at Post Office as
Official Newspaper for Josephine County and Josephine County
Three Rivers School District, published at
321 S. Redwood Hwy., Cave Junction, OR 97523
Periodicals postage paid at Cave Junction, OR 97523
Post Office Box 1370 USPS 258-820
Telephone (541) 592-2541, FAX (541) 592-4330
(Editor’s Note: Views and
commentary expressed in
letters to the editor are
strictly those of the letter-
writers.
* * *
Typed, double-spaced let-
ters are acceptable for con-
sideration. Hand-written let-
ters that are double-spaced
and highly legible also can
be considered for publica-
tion. Cards of thanks are not
accepted as letters.)
* * *
Firefighters ‘spirit’
From Wendell and Artis
Owens
Cave Junction
We do not have New
York City firefighters in Cave
Junction. However, we are
blessed with the spirit of NYC
firefighters spirit among our
Illinois Valley Rural Fire Pro-
tection District firefighters.
On Monday, Nov.23, we
left our home at 3 p.m. to
come home at approximately
6:30 p.m., and found our
house in flames. Words can-
not explain the shock and hor-
ror we felt.
We saw the firefighters
come, cooperate and work
together in a powerful way.
One firefighter rescued
our dog. He brought the dog
to me while hugging and cud-
dling it.
Several fire-fightin g
women hugged me and said,
“Sorry it had to be your
home.”
After we left, one fire-
fighter was checking on the
fire and took our frightened
dog home to comfort it until
morning. The next morning
one firefighter brought coffee
to our family.
During the fire, several
went in and saved what valu-
ables they could. One even
apologized about our antiques
going up in flames.
The encouraging words
and hugs from the firefighters
throughout the ordeal will al-
ways be felt by us.
I understand that even
Selma and O’Brien crews
joined to help.
We appreciate our church
family, Lucinda, and many in
the community for all their
help and encouraging words.
This is not the first time
we’ve seen this NYC spirit.
We saw it in 1995, during an
automobile accident we had,
and in 2000 when our van
caught fire on Hay’s Hill.
Every year when we run
our church fireworks booth,
the firefighters help us meet
regulations. They are most
gracious.
We appreciate the fire-
fighters, our friends, the Ore-
gon District of the United
Pentecostal Church and all
we have forgotten to mention.
Volume 65, No. 37
STAFF: Virginia Gilliam, Cindy Newton,
Chris Robertson, Sharon Silva & Becky Loudon
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592-2541
Glass half full
From Edgar J. Zick
O’Brien
After reading the “Illinois
Valley News” Letters to the
Editor on 11/27/02 I felt com-
pelled to write.
It’s certainly true that
some feel the “half-full glass”
as really “half-empty” with
remarks like “economy in tat-
t e r s ,” “ wa r lo o mi n g,”
“unemployment rising,” and
“national deficit growing.”
We all have to agree that
this nation’s economy has suf-
fered blows. The terrorist at-
tack at the Pentagon and New
York City on 9/11/01; the re-
sulting, sharp downturn in
plane travel; an obstructionist
Senate in Washington; and the
constant elevated-threat level
could have left the whole na-
tion suffering from malaise.
Instead, our economy has con-
tinued to grow 3 percent per
quarter during the last four
quarters, trumpeting the resil-
iency of the American people.
Yes, unemployment has
edged up from 5.4 percent in
October to 5.7 percent in No-
vember, but just think about it
for a minute. What could have
happened to this nation under
attack? The American people
didn’t hunker down, stay at
home and hoard their food and
money. Instead the rise in our
economy has been consumer
driven.
War does loom on the
horizon, and many feel thank-
ful that we now have a presi-
dent whose values and morals
will no longer let terrorists kill
and grow more bold day by
day. Our war on terror is an
action embraced by the
American people as well as
other nations who are not crip-
pled by their own special in-
terests.
I for one am thankful that
we no longer will allow terror-
ists to kill Americans with
impunity. May we always stay
strong.
If people are looking for a
welfare state I suggest they
move to California, where the
goal is to have everyone on
the dole and voting Democ-
ratic to keep the entitlements
coming. You will pay a sales
tax of 8 1/4 percent on every
dollar you spend. That is after
you pay state tax on your
earning of those dollars.
Local governments and
municipalities there have be-
come experts on creating extra
fees and charges and adding
them to your monthly utility
bills. It has become a state to
be “from” if you value self-
esteem and a certain amount
of independence.
We have not abandoned
our libraries, jails or our col-
leges, but increases in funding
should not be allowed by
emotion. It also should not be
allowed if only to be repaid by
home owners. I was amazed at
the number of proposals on
our last ballet asking for ap-
proval of funding by the issu-
ance of bonds.
Each proposal approved
would result in a lien on pri-
vate property for repayment,
and every home owner knows
what happens if you don’t pay
your taxes. If our state needs
more taxes for jails let our
gutless Legislature increase
state taxes. At least then it will
be paid by all state residences.
If colleges need more
money, let them increase tui-
tion and be more active in so-
liciting endowments from
alumni. As for libraries, I find
them available, up-to-date and
responsive.
I can even order books
using my PC, and our little
local library is able to obtain
books not on its shelves from
other facilities close by and in
a reasonable amount of time.
It’s true that there are
things we lack in Southern
Oregon; and if we were will-
ing to throw money at those
situations we could maybe
make them better -- but at
what price?
Should we mimic the wel-
fare state and give everything
to everyone and end up like
California? The answer I hope
for a long time to come is
“No.”
Amazing Grace
From Nedd Wyant
Cave Junction
Amazing Grace, a new
community organization
formed to help families in the
community who have children
with severe handicaps, held a
kick-off benefit concert and
dinner in the spring.
The benefit was highly
successful, and we appreciate
all who participated.
Special app reciation
should go to Shop Smart Food
Warehouse and New Life
Foods for donating the food
used to make the dinner.
Many individuals and busi-
nesses made great donations
of goods and services, without
which the event could not
have happened.
Amazing Grace has many
ideas for what we would like
to do to help families. Some
of our ideas:
Assistance toward the
unique costs that these fami-
lies have, such as specialized
equipment or adapted toys;
providing funds for recrea-
tional trips; and developing
meaningful jobs and ways to
contribute to the community.
We even plan on building a
local group home.
This summer during the
Biscuit Fire, we know of two
teen-age boys in the valley
with multiple handicaps who
need constant care and super-
vision whose families were
given pre-evacuation notices.
In order to be able to prepare
(Continued on page 3)