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Comment Archives: stories: Columns: Letters

Re: “Letters from the week of November 25

It's a bad sign when your blog's (I'm intentionally not using the word "news site" here) comments are more interesting and accurate than the actual blog posts.

Posted by Danny Fowler on 03/24/2014 at 2:05 AM

Re: “Letters from the week of November 25

In response to the article about the pay day loan industry.

I do not condone pay day loans, and am in total support of legislation regulating pay day loans and like-business, but as a member of one of the parishes mentioned in the article I feel I have to speak out in defense of the people brought up in this article. No I am not playing devil’s advocate. As someone who knows these people (not so intimately but we’ve spoken), or knows people who know these people, I can honestly say I had no idea this was going on. Much of the community is shocked in hearing their friends are involved in something so tabooed by the church and the public. What stems from this is the belief in these people’s good natures. They aren’t bad people, they have simply made bad business decisions.
Connecting their business dealings to the beliefs of the church I believe is a little bit of a sleazy move too. Yes, it’s hypocritical to be an active Christian and participate in these businesses, and yes I think it is not moral, but so is using the institution you claim they are disgracing against them. We are not here to pass judgement, we are here to help those hurt by these businesses. Rather than focusing on the hypocrisy of the church community in the neighborhood (something I might point out is in place in every church, and even found in the Bible, so it’s not like we should be shocked this is happening anyway), we should focus on getting legislation passed to regulate these horrible loan rates. One of the great things about our nation is the separation of church and state, something our forefathers were incredibly proud of, so hemming and hawing about the immorality of the situation may have had some sway in Hester Prim's day, but in today’s society where our nation is just barely still predominantly Christian it won’t have much of an effect. And to play the Bible card back at you, in the words of Jesus, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” So leave politics to politics and business to business where it belongs, and let whatever deity you believe in take care of the rest.

2 likes, 0 dislikes
Posted by P on 12/09/2013 at 12:13 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of November 25

I'm so sick of the hatred from Missourians and here is one way I am fighting it: http://www.change.org/petitions/flush-rush…

1 like, 0 dislikes
Posted by Heather Woodside on 08/12/2013 at 4:41 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of November 25

This is Guiseppi Gedaci's interpretation, through poetry, of Monet’s painting. It is at the Nelson.
“Getting Engaged”
Monet’s “Boulevard Des Capucines”

Monet’s Scene Seems Routine,
A Winter Night, a City Alive;
All the Movement and Joy,
The Event of the Year

Carriages, Lined Streets, Families,
Top Hats and Suits,
Dresses and Venders,
Cafes Over Booked

The Big Event in the Distance,
Dressed in Their Sunday Best;
Excitement of a Night on the Town,
Two Men Discuss Business,
Others the Joy of Life in Paris

Groups of People,
Walking Together;
Children Holding Hands,
They Huddle Close, No One Alone;
People Engaged, No Electronic Distractions

A Parent Explains to a Child,
Concerned with Their Every Whim;
Each Blur a Living, Engaging Being;
Inside Café’s Regulars Look On,
Trying to Guess Who Other’s Are
And Where They Are From

Yesterday As Today,
Thoughts of Being Ahead of the Past,
Only to Become It;
No Idea of the Future,
Trapped in the Time,
In Which They Were Born

It Speaks of a Connection,
Involvement, a Link;
An Unbroken Chain of Involvement,
They Can’t Break Away,
Because the Connection is Real, Physical

But a Closer Look,
The Strokes Are Blots,
Not a Painting with a Feathery Touch;
Oil Splattered Marks,
The Shapes Thrown Down;
Pinpoints of Anger and Disgust,
Brought On by Monet’s Cry

The Trees Too Bare,
Chill in the Air;
Overcast, Winter Wind No Effect;
It is Clean, Tamed, and Sterile,
More Than Just that Winter Night Out

Ghost Horses Pull the Lined Carriages,
Shades Are Blurred Souls,
Street Venders, Café’s Full, but Detail Lost;
Spirits Float Through Time,
Floating as if This Night Never Happened

Monet, His Time, His Art Gone,
No “Impressions” Any More,
Only Pixels and Electrons;
Limited Engagement and Clicks Away,
Key Strokes are Words in a Black and White Conversation;
The Colorless Scene,
Leaves Us Wanting to Engage

Monet Alone,
His Room Empty;
A Lost Link in the Chain,
Monet is Aloof;
View from a Life, Not From a Window,
Surrounded by a City Full of People, but Alone;
Some Seem to Look Back at Him,
Painted Shapes Slowly Moving Away

The Café Blurred with Intensity,
Monet Unable to Look,
The Distant Event Out of Focus;
They are Waiting for Him?
That Painter in the Window

Too Many Children are Painted Looking Up to Their Parents
He Colors Only the Balloons, No Vender?
A Child’s Desire Never Provided,
There is Ecstasy in Those Balloons;
To Hold on to Some Thing, Someone,
To Have Someone Grasp his Hand;
A Needed Reason to Get Out Among the Activity

From The Window, It is Grey and Black and White,
As You Get Closer There Are Glimpses of Color,
Because Color Comes When Involved;
Is that Someone Waving Monet to Come Down?

The Hotel Window Then,
The Glass Computer Screen Today,
But The Windows Are the Same;
Life Is Out There,
Too Easy to Exclude Yourself

Not a Painting of a Bustling Downtown Nightlife,
But of an Idea, a Need to Be a Part of the Event;
Loneliness is Only Window Away,
Longing for a Balloon, a Hand, a Hug, Conversation;
Monet’s View is a View Through a Tear

The Oil, the Blots,
Monet Orders Us to Get Engaged;
If Not Part of Life, Life is Out of Focus;
The Dream You Never Awake From,
A Continued Scene of a Need Unsatisfied

Monet Speaks to Us
“Go Get a Balloon”
“Go Hold a Hand, Please Hold a Hand”
Get Out and Engage;

Monet’s “Boulevard Des Capucines” Reminds Us,
Life is Not Meant to be Lived Though Windows

0 likes, 1 dislike
Posted by Guiseppi Gedaci on 02/18/2013 at 3:11 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of November 25

I don't know whats gotton into me but lately I have been more concerned with the militarization of our local police departments. I know every police dept. in America goes to the same conventions which gets them on the same thought wave for training, equipment and whatever can be bought. So, I shouldn't be suprised that all of America's police depts. are starting to look the same. But what really concerns me is the thinking that our police force is starting to look like the military from wence I came, bloused boots, a weapons arsenal at their finger tips and the all too familiar skin head hair style.
I'm just wondering why we need to have such a military defined element as part of any local police dept.? Sure there are guns out there, always have been and always will be. But why can't our regularly trained force handle these types of local situations.
You can't ask these questions of a member of the dept. because he can only recite the company thought, so, does it fall upon us normal people to raise these issues with...with who? Who's in charge of them? How can we have this transformation examined. And, as citizens, do we want this in our local depts.
It may have been the Occupy Wall Street demonstrations that got me thinking this way after seeing the college cop spray peaceful demonstrators with a debilitating spray. By the way, Mr. Pike is no longer on the payroll at U. of Ca. Davis Campus. But with his tactical police training I wonder if he is on some other local police dept. I also wonder if he has learned how a peaceful demonstration is to be dealt with. Which brings me to my point, why do we need tactical police anyway? If we have a terrorist situation surely the Governor can rely on our State National Guard. In my mind it sends the wrong messege to our citizens to see military police roaming our streets. Put cops on foot patrol and get to know the neighborhoods. Stop treating local citizens like we are an occupied land.

6 likes, 0 dislikes
Posted by concerned on 01/09/2013 at 10:55 AM

Re: “Letters from the week of November 25

POETS ARE THE BELL RINGERS of THE SOUL


Poets as a rule are high on adventure
Like wondering bards or prophets today.
Embracing hearts and minds with wisdom
Casting through verse their visions at play.

Poets have their dreams and their nightmares
Of love, life, death, faith and war.
They feel the pain and tragedy of others
Even those they’ve never met before.

They fan the flames of human compassion
With their stories of the failings of man.
Professing to follow a higher power
As they recruit whomever they can.

Poets are the bell ringers of the soul
As they depict the past, the present and beyond.
They sound their alarm of what lies ahead
As the missteps of man live on.


POETS AND POEMS


Poetry blossomed long before Shakespeare, Milton or Poe.
It thrived prior to Solomon and the languages of old.
Poetry today offers itself more often in the form of music
Then in sonnets and poems as the legends of life unfold.

Man has his fear of loneliness, death and the hereafter
As authors compose his doom, desperation and glory.
All hear the words of both good and evil
With too many that fall for the wrong story.

The falsehoods of life find it hard to hide
From the word of God’s poets and poems.
Sharing their joy, frustration and sorrow
By voice, Internet, radio, or books, in our homes.

Poets and poems help man become more human
As the storms of life proliferate their toll.
Poets and poems were put here for a reason
To help tame the savage that dwells in our soul.


GOD’S MOST HUMBLE POET


I’m God’s most humble poet
Whose poems have meter and rhyme.
Stories of love, faith, hate, honor and duty,
Obedience, war, heroes, history and crime.

I’ve performed my gift on T.V. and radio
Before millions I’ve never met.
Preached my praise of God and country
With 481 poems on the net.

Satan’s soldiers, shepherds and bards
Spew forth their foulness and grief.
They attack the joy and goodness of man
Dishonoring life, family, country and belief.

Prospering through work, love and conviction
Enables us to remain whole and how we should be.
Fortifying our soul with fulfillment of faith
Lets our worst tribulations be shouldered by Thee.

Moses, Samson, David, Solomon and Jonah
All failed God in their own human way.
He chose to forgive them and bless their powers
So they might dwell in hearts of man today.

Without God’s grace, wisdom and glorious domain
There’s no doubt all would soon cease to survive.
Through purpose, morals and Christian conviction
We are able to transform and keep hope alive.


EDGAR ALLAN POE


One of America’s most famous writers
Was born in Boston, January of 1809.
Both his parents were failing actors
And his father was drunk most the time.

In 1810 Edgar’s dad disappeared
His mother died soon after.
A childless couple took him in
Raising him with love and laughter.

Edgar had a Negro nurse
Who brought him to her quarters.
There he listened to ghost stories
Far beyond Earthly borders.

The strange tales he later wrote
May have come from her inspiration.
The words she used to describe death
Gave Poe his taste for sensation.

The Allan’s moved to England
Where Poe attended boarding schools.
There’s no doubt his time spent there
Sharpened his skills as tools.

Returning to Richmond and back in school
He began to compose new verse.
Heavy debts forced him to leave college
As his life took a turn for the worse.

Poe caught a ride on a coal barge to Boston
Where he was unable to find employment.
A young printer agreed to publish his poems
Giving him hope and enjoyment.

Penniless, Poe enlisted in the army
And was accepted to West Point in 29.
Poe couldn’t stand not being a writer
Self-imposing his dismissal from The Line.

Afterward he became an editor and critic
And married his cousin who was thirteen.
Six years latter he discovered she was dying
Suffering once more the unforeseen.

He went through periods of insanity
Caused by grieving and functional fall.
He smoked opium and drank too much
Till at his doorstep death would call.

Edgar Allan Poe the master of verse
Still lives in our hearts today
Famous for The Raven and other great works
May his soul rest in peace we pray.


GOD’S POETS


The prize jewels of any nation
Are the philosophers of the heart.
How they think is universal
For it’s God who makes them so smart.

Most poets tell the truth of life
Though they may wrap it in beauty.
It's their passion, not their purpose
To compose is but their duty.

Poets have no reason to lie
When the truth is always so clear.
All that others say and do
Is but food for the poet's ear.

One merit of a poet's work
Which most cannot deny.
They say more and in fewer words
To illuminate you and I.

God sent His poets down to Earth
With words of wisdom and of worth.
That they might touch the souls of men
And bring them back to Him again.


A GOOD POEM


A good poem paints a picture
For both your heart and brain.
It doesn't need a second chance
To make its meaning plain.

A good poem is like the flower
The lily or the rose.
God plants it in a poet's brain
And there its beauty grows.

A good poem like a cardinal
Is pregnant with song
You can’t help but hear its message
As it sings what's right or wrong.

A good poem helps us remember
What the joys of life are for
It makes us want to love someone
Till death comes knocking at our door.


POETRY


God has always had his poets
Who He watches with love from space.
But Satan has his poets too
Who try to lead us from our grace.

King Solomon was a poet
Who spoke of love, life, death and war.
That lips were like threads of scarlet
And that breasts were roses and more.

The wild birds sing and flowers bloom
As clouds form figures in the sky.
But only humans will write poems
That shall last long after they die.

The eldest sister of all arts
Which some have called the Devils wine.
Poetry is but pure passion
To stimulate the heart and mind.


POET'S WIFE


My reciting seemed to delight her
Though for me it was love at first sight.
When she found out I was a poet
She asked, what kind do you write?

Love poems, mostly, I told her
While we walked alone in the park
Love's fever became even warmer
As two shadows embraced in the dark

I'll always remember when first we met
I whispered a poem in her ear.
Ever since then how happy I've been
And other women I've no need to be near.

They say that poets are divine
Though my wife would argue, that’s not true!
For, whenever I lose my direction
It’s she who tells me what to do.

Where the city ends and the suburbs begin
We've built our home beneath the sky.
We’ll raise our babies with truth and love
Till one or both of us die.

A verse a day, I always say
Helps keep lawyers from my door
For when I'm paid for what I write
My wife loves me a little more.


ALL POETS SERVE A MASTER


Most poets have a bit of Solomon
Shakespeare and Poe within.
Constantly eager to share their visions
Of love, life, joy and sin.

Some guzzle whiskey
Some sip wine
Some prefer cola
And feel just fine.

Some smoke pot
Or suck cigarettes
Some abuse drugs
With lifetime regrets.

Some attend church
And sing of God
While others make fun
And call them odd.

All have a purpose
Which drives them to compose.
All serve a master
Who by free will, they chose.


DIVINE INTERVENTION


I never write a poem
That doesn’t write itself.
I catch a buzz and come alive
Like a puppet off it’s shelf.

Hearing many voices
Whose words are never mine.
My pen becomes a painter’s brush
Forming visions on a line.

I seem to be a better person
When it’s time to sit down and write.
A higher power guides my hand
Sharing wisdom by day and night.

People born to create
Have no choice but to perform.
It’s the rush of sharing their gift
That elevates them from the norm.

What would our world become
Without intervention from above?
Angry beings in a revolving cage
With no sense of passion or love.


THE POWER of POETRY


Poetry is the lighthouse of life
Guiding the lost from a stormy sea.
Without it’s presence darkness prevails
Keeping us from all we can be.

Poems are used to convey passion
By poets of both good and evil mood.
Some are hateful others loving
Sharing thoughts to be consumed as food.

Verse can lead us to glory or doom
As we partake with others within.
Depicting our past, present and future
With words of man’s grace or sin.

People write poetry because they have no choice
Answering to the call of their gift.
Where some tend to pull their readers down
Others compose to give them a lift.

Always remember the power of poetry
Is used by both Heaven and hell.
It’s up to us to choose our pleasure
As poetry remains alive and well.


WHISPERS


Poetry consumed is where wisdom begins
As we heed to the whispers of the heart.
It’s easy to blame others for our dismay
When from ignorance we refuse to part.

Verse is a beacon of hope in the darkness
To help us navigate the pitfalls of life.
Far more tend to write it, than read it
That’s why there’s endless conflict and strife.

I write poems to help fuel the light
By sharing what God has given me.
With stories of love, life, war and more
Where heroes pray on bended knee.


MASTERS of VERSE


Poetry is one of man’s oldest arts
Practiced long before words of print.
Every race had its masters of verse
In caves, huts, cabins or tent.

Stories in verse were handed down
From one generation to another.
The first told of love, war and more
And how to survive each other.

As man became more civilized
He could not help but wonder within.
Verse then took on a deeper meaning
With stories of faith, superstition and sin.

The act of reciting became in demand
As verse began to advance
Every tribe, city, town and village
Had someone who gave words romance.

Today’s poets are on the World Wide Web
Though many seem spiritually ill.
Thank Heaven for all who still have God’s gift
To compose, teach, comfort and fulfill.


MY FAVORITE POET


My favorite poet is “God”
Who gives Earth its rhythm and rhyme.
Not pied pipers of misguided souls
Who promote distrust, hatred and crime.

Poetry is nature serenading in song
The peaceful roar of the oceans waves.
The wind through the trees and over the hills
And the flowers in the fields by the graves.

The sound of rain as it waters the thirsty
The songs of children at play in the park.
The far off rumble of trains or thunder
As they pass through the night in the dark.

The joy of our babies first words and steps
The passion of life with its heroes and clowns.
The on going struggle to survive our sins
As we proliferate in hamlets and towns.

My favorite poet is our Father of above
Who was first to know us before birth.
His poetry prolongs everything we love
As His deliverance gives life its worth.


THE POWER of WORDS


Words are the most powerful tools used by man
As hearts and souls reach for one another.
Sharing feelings of fear, wisdom and joy
Or our love for a significant other.

Where would we be without words
Which inspire, unite and motivate.
Songs, poems, stories, blogs, books
Wars, religion, love, lust and hate.

Jesus preached words to the multitudes
And nourish their hunger within.
The stories we tell portray our spirit
As examples of weakness, triumph or sin.

When we fail to control the rage of our thoughts
What is easy to say becomes hard to forgive.
Words are visions which portray our intent
The better we communicate, the better we live.


AMERICAN SOLDIER POEM


It’s not a priest that gives us our freedom of religion
And it’s not a reporter that gives us our freedom of voice.
It’s not any judge, lawyer, politician, or teacher
But the blood of a soldier that has sacrificed by choice.

Our soldiers line up to be remembered
As the best of the best at their job.
They wish to be needed and depended on
To save all we love from the mob.

They risk their life and limb for liberty
Standing firm against evil unwilling to break.
To be part of something greater than themselves
They are willing to sacrifice whatever it will take.


Tom’s 481 Poems Are Free To Share!

By God’s Poet
Tom Zart
Most Published Poet
On The Web!

http://www.veteranstodayforum.com/viewforu…

0 likes, 1 dislike
Posted by Tom Zart on 12/25/2012 at 7:18 AM

Re: “Letters from the week of November 25

I want to put the word out (Around KC especially) that Im looking for the main part of that EV/Tapco catalina series mixing board that I had at the Outhouse (Ive got the 8-channel expander part) I think the main board was 12 channels.
Its kind of a cool old board, but not really worth anything, Id just like to have it back....you know, cause i dont have enough stuff in my garage. I'd be willing to pay a LITTLE something for it. (I would be VERY impressed if someone is still using it!)
Im thinking that its probably stashed and forgotten about in someones basement or garage, or in some dark corner of the El Torreon.....if it wasnt sent to the dump years ago. Its odd that the two parts got separated. If it HAS been sent to the dump, I hope someone will let me know, so I can forget about it.

It would look something like this:

http://img3.classistatic.com/cps/po/091106…

http://img3.classistatic.com/cps/po/091106…
img3.classistatic.com

Both mainboard and expander look like this:
http://i.ebayimg.com/00/s/NzY4WDEwMjQ=/$(K…

Posted by Bob Cutler on 06/14/2012 at 7:42 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of November 25

I like everything about the pitch except what is printed. its like the menu at Wendy's except Wendy's has better fish and better mayo

3 likes, 1 dislike
Posted by Mick Bradford on 01/20/2012 at 10:18 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of November 25

Wow...

Posted by Severin on 09/15/2011 at 2:46 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of November 25

Death to the Republic, long live the democracy. Face it, the rich made this problem and they should be held accountable,
to repay what they have stolen. The only way this problem is going to be fixed is by the American people. First abolish
the republic, no more congress, no more senate, no more lies, fire all the rich bastards.
Second establish a democracy in this country, from now on the people make the rules, regulations, and laws that we have
to live by. It can easily be done, simply make the people in Washington, file clerks who follow the lead of the people,
and submit to their will. It can be done and done legally, since the people of this united states wrote the first
constitution, the precedent has already been established, that the people can write their own constitution, or change it,
(replacing the republic with democracy),any time they see fit to do so, and their is nothing anyone can do about it legally.
If the people are so inclined to see it so, it can be done, and ratified by the states who wish to join the democracy and
abolish the republic. Embrace this new form of government and way of life. Have it your way for a change, instead of having
to swallow some one elses way, all the time. Even a blind man can see that the republic and its form of government is a
failure and has always been so. The time for change is now. Join me and lets together, make this country some thing that we
can once again be proud of instead of being some thing that today we are ashamed of. From a corrupt republic to a democracy,
where their are no more secrets, no more lies, and no more theft of the publics money. All the crooks will have to go get
real jobs, for the free ride would be over.
It would not take long to restore this country, to its former glory. First we take back (the peoples bank) the federal
reserve bank that was unconstitutionally stolen from the people in 1913 thus making those who have made the national
debt since 1913, liable for the repayment of the money they have stolen. You want a new beginning, a better way of life,
a life style of your own choosing, then join me and lets see this criminal enterprise and those responsible for it,
be brought to justice an a swift end. Vote for me to be your next president and in the first month I will have a
vast majority of these problems our country faces fixed. I am poor and disabled but I can at least add and subtract
something, that all the people who are in office now can not seem to be able to do. Vote for Ronald F. Dowell
( 3polaris@comcast.net) for president in 2012. You will probably have to write my name in on the ballot, for they
have made it, damn near impossible, for a poor mans name to be included on the ballot for president.
They discriminate against the poor, by making it to difficult ( though their rules and regulations) for any one with out
means to ever get the signatures needed to have his name listed on the ballot. But if a poor man had enough friends
there would be nothing, that they could not accomplish together. If you are with me, lets see it be done, together we
can change the world for ever, goodness knows no bounds.

5 likes, 9 dislikes
Posted by Ronald F. Dowell on 08/07/2011 at 7:59 PM

Re: “Glass Houses

I worked for Buck from 68-76. I was the head meatcutter. My grandmother, Helen Boone was the bookkeeper and personal secretary for Buck for over 30 years, I'm sure you all remember her, she made out our checks. Buck was a true friend, he gave me a horse and saddle to get me started, and threw in a truck just for kicks. My grandma told me he respected people who stood up to him, me at 5 foot nothing, Buck at 6-5, my nose could't get that high, but I earned his respect. We all worked hard, and played just as hard. I miss those days. He gave me a trade I still enjoy today. I am presently a market manager living in Texas,

Posted by Butcherboy13 on 08/03/2011 at 6:02 PM

Re: “Glass Houses

Ed Morris........You are right. The original owner of the Hen House in Kansas City, MO, was Buck Hinson. Buck started out selling poultry in a lean-to at 78th and Main in the 1940s, and later built the original Hen House between 82nd and 83rd and Main. A huge metal hen sat out in the front parking lot. I worked there in the 1950s, and rented a room from Buck in "The House" (his house) next door. Buck paid for my tuition and books while I attended my first year of college--the old KCU. Buck helped out a lot of kids in the neighborhood, and he dated great looking women. Lots of memories.........Frank Zahn

1 like, 0 dislikes
Posted by Frank on 05/10/2011 at 7:08 AM

Re: “Letters from the week of September 16

so glad to hear the new editor wants to work on your website...i am a art creative director and it hurts my eyes to even look at it....heard you on npr ...good luck!

Posted by laurie foglia on 11/02/2010 at 3:08 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of September 16

so glad to hear the new editor wants to work on your website...i am a art creative director and it hurts my eyes to even look at it....heard you on npr ...good luck!

Posted by laurie foglia on 11/02/2010 at 12:08 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of September 16

Last week, those of us privileged enough to know the Euston family witnessed an incredible display of grace, strength, courage, hospitality and love conveyed by Kathy, Kevin, Mark, Betsy and Jack regarding the sudden tragic death of their beloved son/brother: Brian. While this remarkable family may have felt they were on the receiving end of support and love from their many family members, friends and acquaintances throughout the week; it is also true that hundreds and hundreds of us were equally impacted and inspired by this family’s decision to choose to celebrate Brian’s life and spirit rather than focus on the troubling lack of facts as to how Brian died.

May all of those in positions to obtain and publish these facts push forward in our shared quest for truth to honor the family and to honor the imperishable spirit of Brian Euston

Posted by Beth Coughlin on 10/19/2010 at 9:14 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of September 16

Last week, those of us privileged enough to know the Euston family witnessed an incredible display of grace, strength, courage, hospitality and love conveyed by Kathy, Kevin, Mark, Betsy and Jack regarding the sudden tragic death of their beloved son/brother: Brian. While this remarkable family may have felt they were on the receiving end of support and love from their many family members, friends and acquaintances throughout the week; it is also true that hundreds and hundreds of us were equally impacted and inspired by this family’s decision to choose to celebrate Brian’s life and spirit rather than focus on the troubling lack of facts as to how Brian died. May all of those in positions to obtain and publish these facts push forward in our shared quest for truth to honor the family and to honor the imperishable spirit of Brian Euston

Posted by Beth Coughlin on 10/19/2010 at 6:14 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of September 16

Francis Shannon: I grew up in Chicago, which has farmore brutal winters, and damn hot summers, and the commuter trains were full everyday. Lightrail may not work for many reasons, but weather is not one of them.

Posted by hgfh on 09/16/2010 at 7:25 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of September 16

Francis Shannon: I grew up in Chicago, which has farmore brutal winters, and damn hot summers, and the commuter trains were full everyday. Lightrail may not work for many reasons, but weather is not one of them.

Posted by hgfh on 09/16/2010 at 4:25 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of August 26

THOUSANDS OF ROCK WORST STUDENTS DIE

with their noses firmly in the air ------ during a sudden cloud burst.

As a firmly protestant student in Jackson County half a century ago I can tell you two things about the 1960s Roman Church.

Priestly abuse was well known, even from those whom never set foot in a Catholic chapel. Also, Rock Worst had out door privies ------ you see their poop does not stink. Like Saint Louis' Christian Brothers, there was on going arrogance from the parochial side.

I also have experience such in adult life. Rockhurst '61 - '65 prep and college grad author Richard Louv formerly wrote for the San Diego Union Tribune. He caught my eye during an article on the 1957 Twilight Twister. I lived in Hickman's Mill and attended Ruskin. He was in Raytown and was bound for Rockhurst.

I contacted him on behalf of neglected veterans. I supposed he was able to dodge the travails of military service. He could care less about the dead and dying.

Ah, another 'proud' example of 'service to others'. [Yeah, Right, Sure] As someone whose sibling became 'the smartest girl at an all boys school' I still maintain that [high school or college] Rockhurst 'talks the talk without walking the walk!'

Posted by Donald R. Lake on 08/28/2010 at 8:14 PM

Re: “Letters from the week of August 26

THOUSANDS OF ROCK WORST STUDENTS DIE with their noses firmly in the air ------ during a sudden cloud burst. As a firmly protestant student in Jackson County half a century ago I can tell you two things about the 1960s Roman Church. Priestly abuse was well known, even from those whom never set foot in a Catholic chapel. Also, Rock Worst had out door privies ------ you see their poop does not stink. Like Saint Louis' Christian Brothers, there was on going arrogance from the parochial side. I also have experience such in adult life. Rockhurst '61 - '65 prep and college grad author Richard Louv formerly wrote for the San Diego Union Tribune. He caught my eye during an article on the 1957 Twilight Twister. I lived in Hickman's Mill and attended Ruskin. He was in Raytown and was bound for Rockhurst. I contacted him on behalf of neglected veterans. I supposed he was able to dodge the travails of military service. He could care less about the dead and dying. Ah, another 'proud' example of 'service to others'. [Yeah, Right, Sure] As someone whose sibling became 'the smartest girl at an all boys school' I still maintain that [high school or college] Rockhurst 'talks the talk without walking the walk!'

Posted by Donald R. Lake on 08/28/2010 at 5:14 PM

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