The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

the ®» 0 8Ca NC ae a [ - ---- Cn. (=. | J. PETER HVIDSTEN Publisher Advertising Manager Member of the J.B. McCLELLAND Editor and Ontario Community Newspaper Association Published every Tuesday by the Port Perry Ste CATHY ROBB ort Perry Star Co Ltd . Port Perry. Ontario News & Features 1ZEW ADVE My J hv . Nip) *CNA ; A, oS Authorized as second class mail by the Post Otfice Department. Ottawa. and for cash payment of postage in cash : Second Class Mail Registration Number 0265 Subscription Rate: In Canada $15.00 per year. Elsewhere $45.00 per year. Single copy 35* © COPYRIGHT -- All layout and composition of advertisements produced by the advertising department ot the Port Perry Star Company Limited are protected under copyright and may not be reproduced without the written permission of the pubkshers Canadian Community Newspaper Association PORT PERRY STAR -- Tues. February 26, 1985 -- 5 letters Local industry needs a break Dear Sir: The editorial in the February 12th Port Perry Star concerning Gary Herrema's speech to the Scugog Chamber of Commerce (Little hope for Industrial Growth in Northern Municipalities) inspires me to write this letter. I am not familiar with what expense the region incurrs in order to pro- mote industrial growth remember when? or what the programs are in this regard. I do kuow however, that my wife Paula and I have, over the past few years with absolute peanuts for start up capital, created a small industry. That little industry now employs between forty and fifty people in the Scugog Region, it does not infuse millions into the local economy, but it does bring in hundreds of thousands of Japanese and U.S. dollars, and it By-law Dear Sir: When the COUNCIL of Scugog Township was elected, we the people could expand over the next few years to employ perhaps three to four times that number of people and. bring in Millions of Japanese and U.S. funds. There is one thing preventing this happen- ing, and that is the unavailability of suffi- cient capital through traditional investors and lending institutions. Why? Our company is not traditional to this area, it is unique in that unfair tion time, we the voter, should cast our ballot more discriminately. those it's "'equipment" and our major investment is in trained artisans and a bank obviously won't consider them as col- lateral. Secondly our in- ventory is considerably large and the nature of it being in numerous loca- tions and quite mobile results in the bank not considering it either, as an attachable asset. This is of course stating it quite simply but the fact is the company cannot grow to the demand of the market on it's profits, It requires expansion capital, if it is to grow. I don't know if there are other small businesses like this in the region with similar growth constraints, but I know that what would believed that they would Yours truly, assist our particular Govern In 3 ar and AD. Homan company Grow and benefit of all. Prince Albert, Ontario (Turn to page 6) 60 YEARS AGO Thursday, February 26, 1925 The Young Peoples Guild of the Church of Ascension held an evening of entertainment of two short plays put on by the members entitled "The Home Guard" and "Man from Arizona."' Some of those taking part were R. Archer, J. Stone, Min- nie Hayden, Lois Lundy, Vera Roberts, Evelyn Alexander. A unique event in the history of the church ac- tivity in Port Perry has taken place. The unionist minority of the congregation of St. John's Presbyterian church has united with the Methodist Church congregation to form a congregation of the United Church of Canada. Mr. Sam Farmer attended the Convention of the Trustee's Association of Manitoba, and then went on to Regina to attend the Convention of the Saskatchewan School Trustee's Association. Master Storey Beare, pupil of Miss Kathleen Leask, passed the introductory Piano-forte Ex- aminations with honours at the mid-winter ex- aminations held at the O.L.C. of Whitby. Mr. Wm. McGee of Cedar Creek has purchas- ed Mr. Clarence Harrison's farm at Myrtle Sta- 'tion where he will build this summer. LS 50 YEARS AGO Thursday, February 28, 1935 Three cows, a calf and a quantity of hay and straw were lost in a barn fire at the farm of Mr. Leslie Mountjoy south of Blackstock. The farm had recently been sold to Mr. Stanford Van Camp who had intended to move in this week The Port Perry Star introduced "The Howler" this week. It is the official voice of the short course in Agriculture, Home Economics and sewing at Port Perry High School. Editors of the news report are Marion Holtby and Allin Dowson. Mr. Gordon McDonald, Greenbank has pur- chased the Standard Garage from Mr. Jas. Boe. The 1935 officers of the Old England Lodge were: President Lewis Bond; Past President Jos. R. Baird; Vice-President Ben Smith; Secretary Wm. Etley; Treasurer Geo. R. Davey; Guard P. Lavington; Chaplain A.W. Allin. 35 YEARS AGO Thursday, February 23, 1950 At the Brownie Valentine party lucky prizes were won by Gloria Hastings and Muriel MacMaster. (Turn to page 6) It is my opinion that had they made a tour of all areas which would STARDAZE come under the Snow Removal By-law that is proposed, they would 7 J U) TST] . have discovered a grave RSE CHEER UP injustice is about to be | CIM. carried out. LA oT " . ANY PARKIN In the Village of Prince METERS Albert they would have found that our sidewalks are only on one side of the street. This would mean that any HARD- SHIPS caused by the pro- posed BY-LAW would only affect half the Village, while the other half would not be subject to the law or any fines incurred. It seems to me that OUR COUNCIL is prac- tising discrimination. Just maybe, come elec- bill smiley BLIZZARD TIME Just struggled home through about the tenth bliz- zard of this year. You could see your hand before your face, if you had a large hand and good eyesight. Found my street more by feel than sight, turned off with a skid, went through the routine of getting into the garage. It's rather like launching a small boat in a large surf. It takes a lot of skill and a fair bit of nerve. At the entrance to the driveway are the boulders. These are huge gobbets of snow thrown up by the snowplow, which then freezes them bigger than a large man's head. Then there is a flat space, shovelled, about the length of a car. Then, just at the entrance to the garage itself, there is a sort of reef of ice, built up to a foot or so of frozen snow. You have to hit the driveway, and there is a large maple a foot to one siderat-abaut 24 miles an hour. There is a great rending noise from beneath, just like rocks tearing the bottom out of a boat. But you don't even slow down. With a judicious touch of brakes here and accelerator there, you sashay past the maple, line her up for the middle of the garage, and goose her just a little on the flat patch. There is six inches clearance on each side. All being well, you then ride up over the reef of ice, with another rending noise, this time part of your roof peeling away, slam the brakes at the last minute so that you don't go through the end of the garage, switch off, and sit there wiping your brow. I enjoy it. I feel like a skipper whose ship is sink- ing, and who has launced a boat, taken her through the surf, over the rocks, through the reef, and beached her on golden sand. But inevitably, on such occasions, my thoughts turn to the poor devils, our pioneer ancestors, who had to cope with the same weather and snow conditions, with a pittance of what we have to work with. When I've shut off my engine, feeling a bit like Cap- tain Bligh on one of his good days, all I have to do is walk 40 yards to the house. Inside there is warmth from an oil furnace, light, an electric stove to cook dinner, a coloured television to take me to lotus-land. I can huddle in the cowardly safety of my modern home and defy the elements. Let "er snow, let 'er blow. No chores to do. No trips to the barn to feed, water, milk the beasts, by the light of a lantern, in sub-zero temperature. No wood to lug in from the woodpile, or ashes to carry out. All I have to do is sit down with a drink, unfold my daily paper, and raid the refrigerator. Thewefrigerator is one of our modern gods, and one of the moét popular. I think it takes precedence even over the car as a twentieth-century deity. We kneel before it, contemplating its innards. We place offerings of food inside it, much as the ancients proffered foad to their gods. And, just like the ancients, we are smart enough to take food back and eat it, after the god has been placated. Not for us the pioneers' meagre fare. We have fresh (frozen) meat to hand. We have fresh vegetables, nothing from the root cellar. We have cheese and fruit and eggs and orange juice and a myriad other exotics that would make our ancestors blink in awe and fear. On the shelves in the kitchen we have another host of luxuries: canned fruit and vegetables and soup, cof- fee and tea and sugar and smoked oysters and sardines and salmon and tuna. In the bread-box, cookies and cakes and bread that cost money but no labour After a meal that would appear to a pioneer as food for the gods (even though half the stuff in it is going to give us cancer, according to the quacks), we don't have to sit huddled by the stove trying to read a week-old newspaper by the light of a kerosene lamp. We can sit in comfort and read a book from among thousands in a library five minutes away. Or we can listen to music or drama from hundreds of miles away. Or we can watch the same, or the news of the day, from thousands of miles away. By merely twisting a dial. How did they stand it, those sturdy forebears of ours? Wouldn't you think that they'd have gone starkers under the burden of never-ending toil, never-ending cold and snow, never-ending monotony and loneliness, in winter? Not a bit of it. They thrived and multiplied. (Maybe the latter was the answer. There's nothing like a bit of multiplying to pass the time). a Many of them didn't survive, of course. Children died in infancy. Women were old at 30. Bu! it was a life- long test course in survival, and the tough ones made it. What a lot of complaining, complacent slobs we are today! But I'm sure glad I don't have to go out to the barn, put hay down for the horses, milk the cows, and drag in a quarter-cord of wood to keep the stoves going, tonight. .