Oakville Beaver, 23 Aug 2008, p. 6

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6- The Oakville Beaver Weekend, Saturday August 23, 2008 www.oakvillebeaver.com The Oakville Beaver 467 Speers Rd., Oakville Ont. L6K 3S4 (905) 845-3824 Fax: 337-5567 Classified Advertising: 905-632-4440 Circulation: 845-9742 The Oakville Beaver is a member of the Ontario Press Council. The council is located at 80 Gould St., Suite 206, Toronto, Ont., M5B 2M7. Phone (416) 340-1981. Advertising is accepted on the condition that, in the event of a typographical error, that portion of advertising space occupied by the erroneous item, together with a reasonable allowance for signature, will not be charged for, but the balance of the advertisement will be paid for at the applicable rate. The publisher reserves the right to categorize advertisements or decline. Editorial and advertising content of the Oakville Beaver is protected by copyright. Unauthorized use is prohibited. Commentary Guest Columnist NEIL OLIVER Vice President and Group Publisher DAVID HARVEY General Manager JILL DAVIS Editor in Chief ROD JERRED Managing Editor DANIEL BAIRD Advertising Director RIZIERO VERTOLLI Photography Director SANDY PARE Business Manager Metroland Media Group Ltd. includes: Ajax/Pickering News Advertiser, Alliston Herald/Courier, Arthur Enterprise News, Barrie Advance, Caledon Enterprise, Brampton Guardian, Burlington Post, Burlington Shopping News, City Parent, Collingwood/Wasaga Connection, East York Mirror, Erin Advocate/Country Routes, Etobicoke Guardian, Flamborough Review, Georgetown Independent/Acton Free Press, Harriston Review, Huronia Business Times, Lindsay This Week, Markham Economist & Sun, Midland/Penetanguishine Mirror, Milton MARK DILLS Director of Production MANUEL GARCIA Production Manager CHARLENE HALL Director of Distribution ALEXANDRIA ANCHOR Circ. Manager WEBSITE oakvillebeaver.com The Oakville Beaver is a division of A special birthday Jill Davis, Editor in Chief he newspaper is tinged in a sepia tone and unwieldy in size. The type is so small one would need a magnifying glass to comfortably read it. There are no photographs on the front page and every Jill Davis character, every word and every paragraph are tightly packed together. Thin lines define the columns giving it an almost stately appearance. This is most definitely a product of great weight and worthiness. The date at the top of the The Times is Aug. 21, 1928. This is a special date as it marks the day my sweet mom was born. It seems only fitting that her daughter, who has spent some 28 years in the newspaper industry, seek out a publication that was produced the day her mother came into this world. After all, it is this same woman who encouraged said daughter to take her love of writing and turn it into a career. I remember a very hot September day in 1978 when mom drove me to Sheridan College to see if I could get into the journalism program. Just a few scant days before I was to enter Grade 13, I announced to my parents that I would prefer to attend college and enroll in journalism. Instead of trying to convince her 17 year old that the final year of high school was a better alternative, mom told me I had better hurry up and make sure there was still space available in the program. It was my choice, she said. That is the beauty of my mother; my brother, sister and I were all given the gift of life's choices. Of course there was guidance along the way, but it was up to each of us to decide the direction we wished to head in life. Even as a little girl, mom would let me select my own clothes suggesting, as only mothers can, that the machine washable items were far more practical and if they didn't need ironing that was an added bonus. We quickly learned how to manage pocket money -- once spent that was it, and if we were looking for more, then we had to earn it. My mom's childhood memories, some clouded by war, are obviously much different than mine. Her own mother died when mom was just 14 and she was raised by an aunt. Growing up in London during and after the war provided its own set of challenges including knowing real fear when the bombs rained down. Recently, when the two of us were in deep conversation about those long ago days, it dawned on me that our generation (those living in a society not affected by war) has very little to share with offspring. We know nothing of rationing, evacuation, huddling in shelters or wondering if our home would still be standing upon returning from school that day. But mom recalls these years with a certain degree of pride -- the same pride she shows when talking about her beloved family. The past couple of years have been difficult for mom, as she has spent much of her energy confronting cancer. However, she continues her fight with the same grace and kindness that she exudes every day. I am grateful she is my mother and grateful, too, that so many years after the printing of that edition of The Times, I am able to wish mom a very happy special birthday and let her know how very much she is loved within the pages of a newspaper. Jill Davis can be reached at jdavis@haltonsearch.com. IAN OLIVER President Media Group Ltd. T Canadian Champion, Milton Shopping News, Mississauga Business Times, Mississauga News, Napanee Guide, Newmarket/Aurora EraBanner, Northumberland News, North York Mirror, Oakville Beaver, Oakville Shopping News, Oldtimers Hockey News, Orillia Today, Oshawa/Whitby/Clarington Port Perry This Week, Owen Sound Tribune, Palmerston Observer, Peterborough This Week, Picton County Guide, Richmond Hill/Thornhill/Vaughan Liberal, Scarborough Mirror, Stouffville/Uxbridge Tribune, Forever Young, City of York Guardian RECOGNIZED FOR EXCELLENCE BY: Ontario Community Newspapers Association Canadian Community Newspapers Association Suburban Newspapers of America THE OAKVILLE BEAVER IS PROUD OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR FOR: United Way of Oakville TV AUCTION The shocking lightning Bolt that electrified Beijing Games "Was it good for you?" she asked in the sweet after-glow, in a sleepy and satisfied late-night voice. "The Earth moved," I replied in a sated whisper. "Oh, and look," I added, holding out my arm for inspection: "Goose bumps." Honestly, I was moved, like I'd rarely been moved before by such an otherworldly event. We were lying atop the bed, drained after a long, exciting and gratifying night, exhausted after having indulged in a veritable orgy. An amazing orgy of athletics. An amazing orgy of excellence. As an athletics aficionado, an erstwhile sprinter and an outer-fringe member of The Sprint Fraternity (Phi Beta Sprinta), this orgy climaxed for me when a certain Bolt of lightning shot out from the television screen in our bedroom, careened around the curves of the track at the Bird's Nest in Beijing, and headed for home in the 200-metre Olympic final in an astounding world record time of 19.30. Usain (Lightning) Bolt had done the seemingly impossible: he'd made it seem like the other runners in a formidable field of world-class runners were lead-footed also-rans. And, in doing so, he'd given me the chills and left me with goose bumps. Indeed, it was an athletic feat of epic, historic proportions, the likes of which I would say I hadn't seen in ages, except for the one I'd watched only four days earlier as Bolt, the effusive, ebullient, jukin', jivin' Jamaican phenomenon obliterated both the field in the 100-metre dash and the erstwhile world record in the event, coasting -- yes, Andy Juniper coasting -- to a clocking of 9.69. In both races, Bolt left me in utter awe. Honestly, those sprints were two of the most phenomenal and moving moments I'd ever witnessed in years of eagleeying international track and field. Right up there with Bob (The Man Who Could Fly) Beamon's unthinkable long jump at the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City. Although I was but a tyke at the time, I vividly recall: Beamon, barely making it into the final round of jumps, then suddenly springing superhumanly, 8.90 metres, shattering the existing world record by... nearly two feet, for a new mark that would stand for 23 long years. Upon landing in the long jump pit, Beaman bounded out of the sand and put his face in his hands in joy and bewilderment, doubtlessly wondering how on earth he had ever jumped so far. Soviet competitor Ter-Ovanesyan said: "Compared to this jump, we are as children." And compared to Usain Bolt, other runners were as toddlers. Bolt's feat -- the gold medal, the record, the dominance in events that are usually won by scant measurements --shocked most observers. Bolt said it even shocked him, before adding that "everything came together tonight and I just blew my mind and blew the world's mind." The Beijing Olympics have blown my mind more times than I can recall (granted, I can't recall much: my mind is blown). How about Michael Phelps. Or the Canadian contingent that, despite the bleating in the early days by our oftentimes hysterical sports media, did this country proud. How about the superhuman sprint team from tiny Jamaica. And how about that lightning Bolt that truly electrified the Games. Andy Juniper can be visited at his Web site, www.strangledeggs.com, or contacted at ajuniper@strangledeggs.com.

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