Bullet shuts down Prouty - Southbridge Evening News

8 SPENCER NEW LEADER • Friday, November 4, 2011
VIEWPOINT
OPINION AND COMMENTARY FROM SPENCER, LEICESTER AND THE BROOKFIELDS
EDITORIAL
Remembering
Rae
We’ve all had pivotal moments in our
lives that have changed us forever —
moments that were so shocking, so
surprising, so emotionally overwhelming, that
you remember where you were and what you
were doing when you found out.
I remember exactly where I was on Aug. 14,
2003.
I was about to go into
my junior year of college,
and during those years, I
frequently traveled to
North Carolina to visit
with one of my best
friends. We would watch
movies, ride Jet-Skis on
the lake near his grandparents’
house, make late
night trips to Wendy’s,
THE MINOR
and have a great time
overall.
DETAILS This summer, my time
in North Carolina was
ADAM
coming to an end, and I
MINOR was sad to have to go
home. As a got off the airplane
on Aug. 14, 2003, I
turned my cell phone on to see if I had any messages,
and my phone was absolutely bursting
with them.
“What’s going on?” I thought to myself, as I
began to check my voicemails.
“Honey, this is your mother,” I heard my
mom say in a worried, subdued and almost
grim tone. “Please, call me back as soon as you
get this,” she added as her voice cracked near
the end.
My heart beating faster, I called back, not
knowing what to expect, and that’s when I
found out.
One of my childhood friends, Rae Anne, had
died in a car accident at the age of 19, and there
I was, stunned at Bradley International
Airport, standing aimlessly in the middle of
the terminal with a blank stare, tears forming,
as my mother sadly reported the news.
At that time, I had started to lose touch with
Rae. We had grown up together, close friends,
and we did just about everything together —
school projects (I remember a particularly
awful anti-drinking and driving commercial
we filmed for school — it’s still on tape somewhere,
but we got an A on it!), birthday parties
(our birthdays were exactly three weeks apart)
and even trick-or-treating a couple years. We
had inside jokes, fun times on her trampoline,
and enjoyed each other’s company immensely. I
look at Rae as one of my best friends growing
up, and I always will.
But unfortunately, as many relationships do
in high school, our communication began to
fade. She had chosen a different high school as
me, still close in proximity, but we saw each
other far less, as it became apparent we were on
different paths. She was pretty successful in
her ventures. We would talk every now and
then, and our talks would grow fewer and farther
between, but we both knew that we cared
for each other.
True friendships never fade, no matter how
much time and distance tries to chip away at
the foundation.
Last week, I remembered Rae on her birthday
— she would have been 28. I often think
about what she would be up to, what job she
would have, if she would have been married by
now, or maybe even if she would have children,
and what their names would be. I think about if
we would still be talking, or if our friendship
would have faded even further like so many of
my childhood friends.
I remember Rae every Aug. 14, as well, and
something tells me I will remember her even
more as time goes on, because that date is now
also the birthday of my son, Aaron. Little did I
know, standing there in the middle of the
Bradley terminal, on Aug. 14, 2003, that exactly
eight years later would be the day I would
become a father. It’s a strange link, to be sure,
but one more connection I can make to be sure
that I will never forget my friend, Rae.
The days, months and years may press forever
on, but I’ll always have the memories.
Thanks for your friendship, Rae, I’ll never forget
you.
Adam Minor may be reached at 508-909-4130,
or by e-mail at aminor@stonebridgepress.com.
1 8 7 2 - 2 0 0 7
25 Elm St., Southbridge, MA 01550
Telephone (800) 367-9898
Fax (508) 764-8015
www.spencernewleader.com
FRANK G. CHILINSKI
PRESIDENT AND PUBLISHER
ADAM MINOR
MANAGING EDITOR
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
Toys for Tots helping needy area children
To the Editor:
The holiday season is approaching quickly
and I am asking for help for our needy
Spencer children.
Spencer Toys for Tots has been in motion
for more than 30 years. The Halstead and
Cournoyer/Anderson Families ran it for
many years. I was honored to take over the
reins nine years ago. A team of volunteers
help with administrative functions, daily
toy pick up at various drop off points, shopping
for toys, sorting and distributing toys
(which we do right up through Christmas
Eve) and more. Every amount of money
donated is used solely towards gifts. There
are no administrative fees. We start this
process the 1st week of November.
Each year the Spencer Toys for Tots
Program supplies toys to more than 200 less
fortunate Spencer children. Unfortunately
this need continues to grow each year. In
years past the program was able to give each
family two or three quality gifts per child
and a few stocking stuffers.
You can also “sponsor” a child. We will
To the Editor:
In your Spencer New Leader issue dated
Friday, Oct. 28, you ran an article ‘A New
Year’s Wish on Halloween’ in which Ron
Sinclair-Clee speaks of his practices and
beliefs as a witch.
I am quite glad to see such an article in the
New Leader; it speaks volumes about the
state of our local culture. The more exposure
one has to differing ideas, the more one is
able to make truly informed decisions.
However, I have issues with the article,
notably where Mr. Sinclair-Clee discusses
that which pagans believe and practice. This
is not to say that his beliefs and practices as
a pagan are not valid. Instead, my issue is
with his use of the terms ‘pagan’ and ‘paganism’
to refer to a specific eclectic neo-pagan
belief system as opposed to their widest, and
most correct, definition — any non-
Abrahamic religion, or a member thereof.
What this means is if you are not
Christian, Jewish, or Muslim, you are a
member of a non-Abrahamic religion, and
thusly pagan. What Mr. Sinclair-Clee defines
as a pagan is something other I earlier
referred to as ‘eclectic neo-pagan’. This constitutes
a personal belief system in which
one takes bits and pieces from other religions
and beliefs and puts them all together,
in a ‘take what one likes, discard the rest’
way. Of course, there is nothing wrong with
this — everyone’s own personal beliefs are
viable for them.
There are many kinds of pagans, though,
given that paganism is a rather large
umbrella to stand under: Buddhists,
LaVeyan Satanists, and Asatruar are all
pagan as well, and their beliefs are perfectly
valid. I would like to point out to you, however,
that there is a type of individual that
attempts to reconstruct the beliefs of
provide you with the age and wish list for a
boy, girl or family and you can personally
purchase gifts. We have repeat business
owners and individuals who enjoy doing
this. Spencer Savings Bank Employees and
Spencer Exchange Club members have
sponsored over 40 children in years past.
Email me at donnaflann@aol.com if you are
interested.
We are thankful to the businesses and
townspeople in our area for their generosity.
There are amazing stories every single year.
Please help us make a child’s Christmas a
happy one. There is no such thing as a small
donation. Every bit helps. Please make
donations payable to: Spencer Toys for Tots
and mail to: P.O. Box 186, Spencer, MA 01562.
There will be drop off boxes for new,
unwrapped gifts starting the 1st week of
December at the Spencer Post Office,
Spencer Fire Station.
DONNA MORIN-FLANNERY
SPENCER TOYS FOR TOTS COORDINATOR
Shedding some light on paganism
To the Editor:
There is a very important issue that will
come before the Spencer voters in early
December.
There is a proposal to purchase the
Sibley/Warner property to allow this property
to stay open land. This proposal
includes financial efforts by land trusts,
state conservation money and Audubon to
fund the purchase and Spencer will be
required to provide some of the funding.
We support this proposal and urge the voters
to attend public hearings to become
informed about this issue.
A special television program called
“Walking Tour of Sibley/Warner Property”
was produced by Aaron Keyes and is playing
lost/dead cultures: these are called Recon
pagans (I omit the ‘neo’ prefix in this
instance because the religion one is reconstructing
is not new), and they attempt to
take a more scholarly look at their chosen
religions through the use of anthropological,
archaeological, and historical sources,
as well as the source texts to recreate the
beliefs and practices of the original followers
of that religion as best as they can.
I am what one would call a Norse recon
pagan, reconstructing the beliefs and practices
of my ancestors, and only one pantheon
of gods (Odhinn, Freyja, Thorr, Baldr, etc),
and they can be deceptive, angry, war-like
beings. While one may commune with them
regularly in the form of offerings of alcohol
and meat (sacrificing people is no longer an
acceptable practice), the Old Norse did not
necessarily have personal relationships with
the gods. All told, reconstructing a dead religion
is a painstaking process, and it requires
far more reading and research than one
would initially believe of a pagan religion,
not to mention the fact that most of us are on
our own in these endeavors.
I write this not to espouse my own beliefs
as better or more correct than that of another,
but rather to explain that what one commonly
sees as ‘pagan’ is not entirely true —
there are many of us, and we do not all
believe the same thing, nor may we all be
cast in the same light. Further, if one is
researching neo-paganism and wishes to be
researching actual beliefs as opposed to fluff,
I highly suggest verifying one’s sources (and
yes, Wikipedia is not a good one). Simply
because it is published does not mean it is
true or even correct.
McPherson: Vote yes on debt exclusion
SOUND OFF:
I am writing this letting after reading a
response to Bo Fritze’s article.
I am assuming that this person that is having
such a difficult time with Church Street
must be a woman driver, because the real
issue is speeding on Church Street.
I purchased my home in 1999 and I have
dealt with the parking issue for years and I
will tell you that it is not as bad as she or this
person is making it. I raise three children
and several dogs on this street and I am very
happy to say that with the speeding cars
nothing happen to any children or pets on
this speedway.
As to the street being virtually impassible,
this leads me to believe this is a woman driver
because over the 10 years I have seen it all
SOUND OFF
LUKE ALLAN GUSTAVSON
SPENCER
on Spencer’s Channel 12 regularly. This is an
excellent program and gives the viewer a
bird’s eye view of the property and a better
understanding of the proposal. If Spencer
does not do its part to support this, the land
will be available for development and the
costs will probably be much higher in the
way of providing schools and infrastructure.
We strongly urge voters to vote yes at the
town meeting and vote yes at the special
election to fund the debt exclusion. We may
never get this opportunity again.
Church Street problems do not exist
BOB AND CAROL MCPHERSON
SPENCER
from construction ten wheelers to several
fire trucks including our new ladder truck,
delivery trucks and all the over vehicles have
had no problem with the size of our street.
Wintertime is a challenge for us, the homeowners.
We clear the snow on the streets and
sidewalks with snow blowers, blowing snow
onto our own lawns, with help of all neighbors,
this street is better maintain than other
streets done by our highway department.
Let me finish by saying, if you are not
happy with our hazard and eyesore on
church street, use another street to get
through, it will be one less vehicles speeding
down our street.
THE HAPPY BOAT OWNER
Little cat lost
Please be on the lookout.
Lost in the vicinity of Glover and Highland
Streets, Southbridge, Mass.: One black-andwhite
cat, about 10 years old, thin, skittish,
answers to the name of … oh, wait a minute, he
doesn’t answer to anything — he’s a cat!
This was supposed to be a whole different column.
In fact, it already was a whole different
column, just one final proofread away from
being sent through cyberspace to the
Stonebridge Press editor, when one of The
Guys did something stupid: He vanished!
The Guys, for those who don’t know or
remember, are Barry and
Elliott, our felines de domicile,
named after some wellknown
TV pitchmen because
“they own the furniture” in
our house, made abundantly
clear by their ripping of
couches and chairs to shreds
within a year of joining our
family. Which is why they no
longer have front claws.
AS YOU
LIKE IT
MARK ASHTON
Anyway, we arrived home
early last Friday evening
from grocery shopping to
find that the new bow window
we ordered a couple of
weeks ago had been delivered
and installed. What a
treat! What a surprise! What
a risky endeavor!
Risky because if we had known they were
coming, I’d have corralled the cats and secured
them on the front porch or in the cellar for the
duration of the installation. You see, Barry
(aka Chuck, Fat Boy, or Tank) is an explorer, a
nosy-bones, an incurable inquisitor, a climber
into bags and boxes, an investigator of fireplaces
and cubby holes, a real foolish feline
when you consider the trouble he can get into.
Elliott, on the other hand, nicknamed Ellie,
Dopey Bones, Skitty Kitty, or Boo (mainly for
his tendency to run from everything from a
household sneeze to a strange noise on a TV
commercial), is typically the Invisible Cat.
When friends, family, neighbors, or tradesmen
come calling, he goes missing. We’ve searched
high and low on occasion, but when he doesn’t
want to be found, he CAN’T BE. Then, 10 minutes
after the intruder has left, he saunters out
– as if from another dimension. His secret hiding
place remains just that – a secret. He refuses
to talk, unless it’s to whine for his dinner, or
breakfast, or for we don’t know exactly what
between those meals.
So when we entered the house Friday night
and found Barry in his usual spot flopped atop
the couch, we sighed in relief. Everything was
all right in the Cat Kingdom (let’s face it, they
let US live there – as their servants, lackeys, toilet
cleaners, and massage therapists). But when
after five minutes or so Elliott had not yet
reared his whiny head, we began to wonder.
Was he upstairs, feigning indifference to suppertime?
Was he downstairs still hiding from
the window installers, was he … ? Yikes, could
he possibly be UA (unauthorizedly absent)? A
thorough search of our beautiful bungalow
revealed the frightening truth: Elliott the
Invisible was missing – outdoors!
Now my mind raced immediately back to a
letter to the editor in last week’s Stonebridge
Press publications. Headlined “A call for help
on behalf of felines,” the letter spoke fervently
about the plight of abandoned cats, and of the
deplorable conditions and lives “devoid of
love” they endured. The letter writer pleaded
with compassionate readers everywhere to
consider spaying and neutering their pets – and
to adopt new pets from the growing clowder of
street cats produced by this inconsiderate kitty
littering.
The letter had hit home with us, not only
because of the plight of feral felines, but
because of what cats have meant to our family
for, oh, about the last 60 years.
Now here’s where the original column talked
about the cute, funny things The Guys (and
their predecessors) have done over the years,
the way Barry plays “the lump” (under the covers
in the middle of the bed on cold days) and
the way Elliott rubs up against table legs, chair
legs, pant legs, and anything else at his level –
leaving black haired evidence of his having
been there.
This is where the original column focused on
the “tough couple of weeks” The Guys had
endured – what with the plumber, the water
meter installer, the door replacement guys, and
finally, the window installers intruding on
THEIR (The Guys’) space. I was also going to
relate my futile attempts to corral The Guys
into the upstairs bedroom one morning last
week, and how Elliott, terrified at seeing me
mount the stairs with Barry in my arms, had
skittered past us, knocking over Lincoln statues
and books and memorabilia, in his flight to
reach his Secret Hiding Place. It’s simply not in
his – or any feline’s purview (or, in this case,
purr-view) – to “be put” anyplace not of his
own choosing.
That day had nevertheless worked out OK.
But Friday brought the worrisome prospect of
a furry friend literally left out in the cold, clawless
and clueless. No biggie, I thought, even as I
emailed this column to the editor with Elliott
still nowhere in sight. And with it snowing.
“We’ve got to find him,” said the worried wife.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “He’s resourceful. He’ll be
OK. He’ll come back when he’s hungry.”
Who am I kitten? The saga of the little cat
lost is truly traumatic – and will remain so
until he returns, the repentant prodigal welcomed
home with open arms and an overflowing
cat food dish. Scriptures counsel us to “pray
over your crops, your cattle,” and, I’m sure,
your fuzz-faced family members.
If you’ve a mind to, please feel free to add
your own kitty petition to the others winging
heavenward.
Mark Ashton writes a weekly column for
Stonebridge Press publications.