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Vr 1] chauffeur in the Ameri- v {| McLaughlin factory. * 35 YEARS AGO » inches photo 60 YEARS AGO Thurs. September 27, 1917 Mr. Will Patterson, son of Mr. and Mrs. Geo. Patterson who is a evening. can militia, made a fare- well visit to his parents in Prince Albert, as he expects to go overseas in a short time. Miss Margaret Johns, _ stable, street commision- = Mr. "'ér ete. and is going to' Oshawa to work in the Pte. Leonard Williams of Petawawa Camp, was home last week. He is prize. expected to go overseas in the near future, Thurs. September 24, 1942 President Roy Cornish No information is available on this photo of Port Perry during the winter, but it appears as though horse drawn sleighs were the transportation of the and Secretary Bert Hutcheson, Port Perry Lions Club, attended the Zone Advisory Council at Peterboro on Monday Pilot Officier Glen Mac Master left on Monday morning to return to New- foundland where hé will continue his duties as Captain of a flying boat. Harry _ Stacey, Myrtle -Statjon; was in. Whitby on Friday where he bowled in the mixed doubles tournament and brought home second 25 YEARS AGO Thurs, September 25, 1952 Hon, Thomas Kennedy, Minister of Agriculture, will officially open the Tet 87th annual Cartwright Fair at Blackstock on Wednesday, Oct. 1, presi- dent Neil Malcolm an- nounced. Ray Dearborn came through with 29 points at the Port Perry High school annual track and field day, to win the senior boys crown. Freda McCullough won the #'| Utica, left on Monday to Mr. Henry Dodd has senior girls crown with 25 attend Normal School at bought the Covin proper- points. Peterborough. ; ty. Mrs. Dodd, Sr. and Mr. and Mrs. Harold . Chief Nesbitt has resign- ~~ Miss Ethel Dodd will be Hayes, and family of Port ed his ition as con- living there. Dalhousie, holidayed at the home of his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Hayes, last week. 20 YEARS AGO Thurs. September 26, 1957 Port Perry residents found themselves without water last week when the Bell Telephone Co. acci- dently pulled a service pipe off the water main while digging a trench for time. If you have an int re, i My oy i oes i Sa Thier a % RPTL wi ALY £ » ¥, Tai ii ¥) 4 CB oi \ LE i eresting photo 50 years or older, drop by the Star and let us see. With your permission, we may just publish it. their underground tele- phone cables. Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Kenneth Samells, Nestleton, on the occasion of their Silver Wedding Anniversary. Mr. and Mrs. Geo. Beare and Mr. and Mrs. Reg. Foster, Greenbank, left Monday morning on a trip east to take in the new seaway. Mr. Russell Batten attended the Postmas- ter's convention at Ottawa last week. 10 YEARS AGO Thurs. September 28, 1967 Hon. M.B. Dymond, Ontario Minister of Health informed the Star that the Ont. Hospital Services Commission has approved capital financ- ing assistance for the Community Memorial (continued on page 6) PORT PERRY STAR -- Wednesday, Sept. 28, 1977 -- 5 Reader's - Viewpoint $2.8 Billion for jets Dear Sir: So! Canada is going to spend $2.8 billion for new fighter jets? What a remark- able decision! They have even asked for tenders al- ready. And might we ask, who are we going to fight? Russia? Well, No, we don't want to fight anybody. Why buy fighters then? Well, just for show, you understand. But $2.8 billion dollars!!. And how much are we in debt already? How much are we over our budget now for new military equipment? Yes, billions already, and yet we need more fighters. Well. Well!! It's about time that we in Canada wake up and call a . halt to this kind of spending. We would have thought that Dan McKenzie and our other legislators would have more sense than to agree to this kind of spending. Yet there it is in the Press, 'Fighter Jet Bids Invited" Ottawa, September 1, 1977, and you and I are to have no say in such a deal! Not only can we not afford to go into a deal like that, but we do not need this kind of fighters at all. Oh, yes, the NATO boys say we need more fighters. Well, we have committed ourselves, have we not? The answer is No, we have not committed our- selves to NATO or anybody else. If these European boys want to line up these great new fighters, well, let them go ahead but we do not want any part of this kind of deal. Now, suppose we do agree to this, and actually get these new fighter planes. What happens then? Why of course then Russia will say, 'Sure these western: nations want war. So we will spend millions more." Then in about five years from now, (maybe sooner), our brill- iant military minds will say, "Well, look at the Russians. They are stronger than we are. So we will scrap these fighters, and build bigger "ones and better ones". So this wicked spiral goes onandon. And who foots the bill? Well, Canada foots the bill. That's you and me, yes and our children and theirs too. In fact we'll never get such a bill paid off for years, and years. So now is the time to stop this nonsense. -$2.8 billions you say? With the debt we have now this will be added. Right now that will be over $3,000 debt for every man, woman and child in this whole nation. And we also must pay the interest in such a debt. How ridiculous can we get? Good Lord' save us from this kind of folly. Let the people of Canada rise up and say, nothing doing. We will pay for planes for Search and Rescue, yes. We will pay for planes for long range patrols, yes, but for fighters? No. Never. So just sit up, Canada, and take notice. Now is the time to write to your M.P.. Just say that we refuse to buy this deal. Now or ever. Sincerely Yours, Geo. H. Hambley, Winnipeg, Manitoba. Glasses * Dear Sir: _ Would you please mention In your newspaper that I am collecting used eye glasses for the Christian Medical Mission and Haitian Outreach. The glasses are sorted, repaired, 'and tested before being sent "to Dominican (continued on page 6) Bill Smiley Perplexin ' or din Questions This week, I am perplexed by several questions, and I turn for possible answers to «p. the only people in the world I can trust for honest answers: my faithful readers, all four of them. For example. By what editorial inanity does the Globe and Mail, which grandly calls itself Canada's National Newspaper, run on its front page a five-column by eight of Pierre Trudeau getting his hair cut? What is the symbolism, the hidden meanings, the secret code, the deep, inter- pretive analysis, behind this picture? Can anyone help? ' Is Mr, Trudeau symbolically trimming his sails for a fall election? Is it to show that the _» P.M. is mortal, after all, and that his hair grows, like that of us lesser beings? Perhaps it's a secret warning to Margaret that, despite talk of reconciliation, he's not going to let his hajr grow and become a flower child. I dun-no, but it sure has me Next question. Where do things get lost to' It seems to me that my wife and ] have spent more time this past summer looking for things than we have sleeping. Looking for things that were 'Right there, right on that counter yesterday." Looking for things is one of the most frustrating, irritating pastimes in this materialistic society of ours. It has brought many a marriage to the teetering point, and if the union was already teetering, pushed it A couple of weeks ago, she lost the keys to the car. After a 12-hour non-stop search, no keys. Oh; we had keys for the other car, the battered old Dodge. Only one catch. It was in the garage, and the 'keyless car was sitting right behind it, immovable. Twenty-four hours later, I called a lock- picking specialist. He was out of town, but would call me when he got back. Just before he did, and I had to fork out eleventy-seven dollars, the old lady found the keys, without looking. - They were in the vegetable bin, with a turnip, a butternut squash, and a bag of cooking onions. It was certainly the logical place for them. Then my new black $10 belt went missing. It was the first belt I'd bought for 12 years, and I was rather proud of it, I knew it wasn't really lost, because I always hang it up with my ties. It was obvious that my wife, in her eternal tidying, had stuck it away some- where, as she 80 often does with things that I then cannot find. But she swore, as she always does, that she hadn't touched it. * mentioning in passing that she was sick and tired of looking for things that I had lost. Naturally, words followed, in which the phrase "car keys" inadvertently popped out several times. But the mystery of the missing belt was readily solved when I decided to wear my new, blue, fit-like-a-glove summer trousers. 1 couldn't find them. High or low. Then with a flash of intuition, I knew where my belt was. It was with the pants, because I never unbelt, just hang the whole works on a hook. It was quite a relief to know where my belt was. It was equally reassuring to know that the pants were with the belt. But it was slightly dampening to admit that both were lost. They still haven't turned up. There are only two possibilities. One is that a pantless burglar crept into our bedroom, snatched my trews and crept off into the night, once more modestly attired. The second I don't even like to dwell on. The last time I had worn those pants, that belt, was to a party. It wasn't a strip poker party, but it was a fairly lively one. Did I do a strip tease and forget to redress my little pecadillo? Did I tear them off on the way home from the party and throw them out the car window? Sounds silly, but the other morning I went out to get the morning paper, and there on my back walk was a pair of brand-new blue shoes, with thick while rubber soles, in a shoe-box, with only the lid missing. Only the Lord knows who, for what mad reason, in what temporary mental abberation, flang them there.' But they are just my size and finders keepers. And this whole probe brings up the Case of the Missing Socks. What in the name of all that is unholy becomes of socks when they are put through the washer and dryer? They never go missing in pairs, always single. I'll bet I have nine single socks in my drawer, all different colors or knits. I've gone down with a flashlight and peered, a bit shaken, into the interiors of those machines. No socks. They can't go down the drain, or it would be plugged. Do they do a reverse Santa Claus and go up the spout of the dryer with the hot air? It's a little frightening, as though someone were trying to tell me something. About my feet? Someone with a feet fetish: Just one more question. Where are all the editorial writers who are now screaming about the stupidity of changing highway signs to kilometers instead of miles, when I was lambasting the whole metric-Celsius nonsense almost a year ago? Can you, gentle reader, do a fast bit of arithmetic in your head when you encounter a road sign announcing the speed limit is 45 kilometers per hour? When your speed- ometer is marked in miles per hour? And will be for years to come? Will you happily pay your fine when the cop puts the big blue arm on you and claims you were exceeding the speed limit by seven k.p.h.? "Mdst we all start driving with a calculator-computer in one hand? ~ Now these questions may not be as important as some: How old is God? How hotisitinhell? How long is a straight line? How far does a rolling stone? Whither the Flat Earth Society? Why does everyone pick on me? But they are, poor things, mine own, and I'd like some answers. The Argyle Syndicate Lsd.