This week's column I'm devoting to a number of sub- jects I feel are extremely important, but which I never got around to mentioning in this space. Firstly, I am very pleased to note that Jeffrey Berman, a Toronto freelance photographer, lias won his case against two Metro Toronto police officers. In an out-of-court settlement, he will receive $5,000. It was nearly two years ago, August 1973, that Jeffrey Berman went to CNE stadium to photograph the Osmond Brothers. He never got the pictures he had hoped to get, but he did get one picture he didn't want of himself (with blue and swollen eyes) after a fracas with half a dozen policemen. Unfortunately, he could identify only two of Metro's finest-Const. Eric Birze and Const. Robert Campbell. Berman charged them assault and bodily harn and they (the two officers) counter charged him. The case dragged on for almost two years. Finally, Berman won. What bothers me is the fact that Metro Toronto Police Department had the nerve to file a counter charge, no doubt knowing that Berman had done nothing wrong. Worst, they tried to ignore his injuries and went ahead anyway with what seemed to be a phony, trumped-up charge. Clearly, in any given circumstances, it would be difficult (well, almost impossible) for a single, skinny photographer to assault five or six burly policemen. Never- theless, he had to go through all this nonsense, mainly because of what seemed to be an attempted coverup by the police department. It is sad that police chief Harold Adamson was among those who apparently felt the phony charges should be laid against photographer Berman. One might ask: why bother having a police force at ail? Who needs cops like Birse and Campbell? ýY FREE PRESS, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1975, PAGE 5 I missed Gordon Sinclair's 75th birthday hoopla because that time I happened to be in New York, exploring Fuin City. I am happy to sec that Gordon washonoured licre in Cana:a and by the Canadians who he has served so well over his long and colorful career as a newspaperman and radio broadcaster. I listen to Sinc frequently and he always entertains me. Above all, he's outspoken and never afraid to say what he thinks. Indeed, a rare quality these days. An.d, there is nobody to fire him from his job. He is his own boss. Not long ago, CFRB's Betty Kennedy asked him: "Gordon, if someone asked you, then what do you think you have learned in 75 years what do you think you you have learned?". Sinclair's answer was: "Well, I've learned that you must be dependent upon yourself. You are gonna have friends, you're gonna have acquaintances, you're gonna have in-laws and kinfolks and relatives and everything else, but it will come down to the point that you are you and nobody else. You must be what you are-to thine one self.be true. And, that's what I have learned". To this I must say, I wish some of my former bosses had taken time out to learn something about life in general, using Sinc's philosophy as guidelines for good workmanship and fellowship. It won't be long before the night is suddenly alive with the sounds of spooks, goblins, witches and a lot of kids having a good chance at scaring or fooling their friends and schoolmates. Of course I'm referring to Hallowe'en, a night when all the stories you've ever heard about ghosts and the like come true. It's. a nigh t only Rod Serling could describe to really give you the proper feeling of appreciation. And to the little people skulking around, the imagination runs wild with scenes of dark, lonely back streets of London, shroud- ed with fog and an air of tension or maybe a steamy tropical jungle at night loudly punctuated with a thousand wild sounds of creatures not even imaginable but clearly heard. At least that's how I remember Hallowe'en. I remember it as a night for getting dressed up and begging treats all over. the neighbourhood. You never admitted who you really were behind the mask and the costume and as your victim tried to uess, you patiently waited for a taffy apple and tried not to show your disappointment when you got a plain old orange. But, maybe better luck at the next house so off you went to try again and maybe hit it lucky, receiving some home baked goodies instead of gum or store bought candies. Now, of course, I see Hallowe'en from a different view- point. The costumes are no longer sewn by mother because most of them corne from the discount stores and some of them don't even last until the evening is over. Some of the kids carry donation cans for UNICEF and unselfishly ask you not for a candy or other such treats but for money to help children less fortunate enjoy a Hallowe'en of their own some day. The Hallowe'ens of my day meant you had to watch out for water filled ditches and if there were only 15 or 20 houses in your neighbourhood then that's all the begging and scaring you got to do. You made your rounds and you got back home and counted the loot, letting mother decide how much of that you could eat before going to bed and maybe giving some of your loot to a less fortunate brother who got a "soaker" forcing him to quit early. The worst indignity of all was having to share right down the middle all your goodies with your brother or sister because lie or she was sick in bed with a cold or some such on Hallowe'en. Now I gaze up and down the street on lHallowe'en and I see a stationwagon slowly glide to a stop at the end of street and out jump 10 or 15 kids I've never seen before. After a few quickly barked orders they split up, cach group taking a side of the street. It boggles the mmd to think of how many houses they visit in tie course of one nigh t. Sadly, Hallowe'en is also now a time when parents are literally frightened to death to let their children eat an apple or orange without cutting it apart to ensure it doesn't ORGAN CONCERT IT IS MY PLEASURE TO INVITE YOU TO AN ENJOY- ABLE EVENING OF ORGAN MUSIC AT NO CHARGE. FEATURING MR. LARRY BAGLEY AT THE THREE MANUAL CONN THEATRE. LOCATION: BLUE FLAME ROOM 101 CONSUMERS DR. WHITBY, ONTARIO TIME: 7:30 P.M. DATE: NOVEMBER 13,1975 petersenl musie om~pan~y 390 KING ST. W. OSHAWA, ONT. 723-2259 have razor blades or pins or needles buried within. Even then it could contain a deadly dose of LSD and I suspect many fruits and goodies are simply thrown away after Hallowe'en because of the threat of what a few sick minds might do. But Hallowe'en is also a time for funny happenings. It wasn't too,nany years ago I heard of a lady who wanted to surprise lier husband on Hallowe'en night. Hubby was busily answering the door, approving or disapproving costumes and spooks and handing out goodies so the lady so the lady quickly slipped out the back door unnoticed. She patiently waited in hiding in the bushes until there was a respite in the number of children trudging to the door and she took the chance to slip quickly up to the front door. She rang the bell and her husband, thinking it was more children opened the front door saying, "And what do we have here??" His wife yelled, "Trick or treat", and whipped back the fur coat she was wearing to quickly reveal she had on absolutely nothing beneath the fur coat. Her husband was suddenly confronted with an absoliute- ly naked lady whose proportions I'm told were rather generous. Yes, it's safe to say he was surprised. In a combination of surprise and laughter be stunbled back- wards in the doorway, tripped and fell and broke his arm. Off goes hubby to the hospital to have his ami set and on the way be must think of a believable story to tell the doctor as to how he broke his arm. Another Hallowe'en incident that cornes to mind was about a Scrooge-type neighbour who thought Hallowe'en was a bother and resented the troop of children to his door. Early in the evening he hid himself on the roof and when a group of kids came to his door yelling "trick or treat" he promptly hit them with ten gallons of water from above. That same party pooper may have been the recipient of a surprise put on by one disgruntled group of Hallowe'en kids who placed a paper bag of cow manure on a front porch, knocked on the door and then set fire to the paper bag. The owner came to the door and saw the bag on fire and his first instinct was to stamp out the flames. I don't have to tell you how dramatic that first stomp was when his shoe hit the manure. Anyway Hallowe'en is here to stay and so are kids so why not let them enjoy their night. It may be different today but it's still iallowe'en and it still belongs to the little people. M Last week Henry William's murder trial got underway in Mississauga. He's accused of murdering two little girls near Erindale campus. I was fortunate (or unfortunate) to be asked to take his picture at the Peel County courthouse. The photo assignment turned into a nightmare. Simply, because I showed up with my camera. The Peel Regional Police officers did everything possible to shield Williams from my camera. In fact, they had to take him back into the courthouse-handcuffed and under police guard. Meanwhile, a second police cruiser was dispatched to pick up Williams. Admittedly, I'm still puzzled why all that fuss? Why all that "special" protection when there is no ruling that Williams pictuces can not be published in the media? Here again is a case where the police are taking the law into their own hands with complete disregard for the freedom of the press. Moreover, they are forgetting that their job is to enforce the existing laws and not to create new one for themselves. Perhaps, an explanation is in order from higher-ups in the Peel Regional Police force. Also the part of the unexplained is the Toronto Star's October 15 report on page 119. The paper published twv photographs of president Gerald Ford, pertaining to the Hartford car crash. The top photo shows the damaged vehicle and the adjoining photo shows Ford stepping out of his limousine. At first glance, everything looks just fine, except the caption. It read "Ford Injured in Car Crash". Was Ford injured in the car crash? Nope. Not a single scratch. But, he was .visibly shaken up. Perhaps, the Star editors can tell me where they got this information from? Could this be another "inside track" from "reliable" sources in Washington? Finally, I'm sad to note that Jack Dennett's voice has been silenced forever at CFRB. Canada's best-known news- caster has gone, but his principles will live on. Many times I listened to Jack's eight o'clock newscasts. They were of the highest order. Dennett had the ability to make ail the other newscasters (except Gordon Sinclair) look rather unprofessional. And, above all-Jack Dennett had a perfect voice for the electronic media. Indeed, a God-fiven gift that he used skilfully for more than thirty years. Said one radio reporter: "There was no one in broadcasting who commanded the trust he did. Nor is there soon likely to be one". ALLZSTIR'S Complete Home Furnishings for the Discerning Shopper DROP BY & SIT A SPELL SALE Yes! Our first white cotton sale of sofas, chairs, loveseats. Your choice of fabrics. 70 Rossland Rd. West Oshawa Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday, 10-6p.m. 576-6465 Thursday & Friday. 10.9 p.m. -CTARuE THE CORPORATION OF THE TOWN OF WHITBY Tender for air condition- ing of Whitney Hall. Contract W75-43. Sealed tenders in the envelope provided will be received by Mr. R. A. Claring- bold, Deputy Treasurer of the Corporation of the Town of Whitby until 2 p.m. E.S.T. Tuesday November 18, 1975 for the supply and installa- tion of an air conditioning system in Whitney Hall located in the Iroquois Park Arena, Town of Whitby. Plans, specifications and tender forms may be obtain- ed from the office of the consultant, Totten, Sims, Hubicki Associates Ltd. on and after October 27, 1975. Each tender must be accompanied by a certified cheque for an amount equal to at least 10% of the total tender bid and the successful bidder must provide a per- formance bond in the amount of 100% of the total tender with executed con- tract documents. Lowest or any tender not necessarily accepted. R. A. Totten, Sims, Claringbold, Hubicki Deputy Associates Ltd., Treasurer, Consultants, Town of 500 Hopkins St. Whitby, Whitby, Ont. Dundas St. W., Whitby, Ont., LIN 2M8.