Voices

We offer Voices as a place to share a story, a memory, an idea, a comment, a criticism, or a solution. Contributors must include name, address & phone number.

A Bark From the Past: Henry

[Editor’s Note: The Republican’s first four-footed correspondent was Henry. A mixed breed rescue dog, Henry would make observations about being a dog in a small town. The articles, which ran in 2006 - 2010, have been languishing in the computer’s memory and we thought a new audience might enjoy some canine commentary.]

[This column is from June 2008, when the Downtown Danville Partership hosted the first Summer Sounds on the Square concert.]

Wasn’t that a great concert on the square the other night? I wasn’t there, but I could hear the singer from my back yard. She was really good! Woof! And so was her band! I know my brothers and sisters liked it, because a few times, they sang along in harmony! The only thing that could have made it better was if my humans had passed around some biscuits while we listened. Or maybe some of that instant popcorn from the magic humming box! My humans never seem to think of obvious things like that, and no matter how we try to tell them, they just aren’t clever enough to figure out what we mean! Anyway, the music was great and we hope there are going to be lots more of those concerts this summer!

Hey! I’ve got a new human hero this week and his name is Wynn Brower, a 12-year-old human from Bloomington that I heard about the other day on the radio. Wynn did a great science fair project. He wanted to see how his family’s electric bill would be effected if they turned off their four computers at night. And it turned out that they saved a whole dollar every day! Well, Wynn’s father Bill was so impressed that he took his son’s idea to the Monroe County Alphas, and they had someone crunch the numbers (That’s what the human on the radio said, but I don’t know what it means. I crunch my biscuits and I chew paper with numbers on it sometimes, although it really doesn’t crunch, but I can’t figure out how you can crunch numbers!)

Anyway, they found out that the Monroe County Alphas’ offices have 550 computers, and that if all of them were turned off every night, the county could save $25,000 a year, using 5% less electricity! So, the county alphas made that official, and now, all the computers in the Monroe County offices are turned off every night!

Well, my humans thought that was great, too, so now, they turn off all the computers at their work every night. I use the home computer for writing this column, and I always turn it off when I’m done! Well, it seems to me that if everybody in Danville turned off their computers when they weren’t using them, I bet they could save a lot of money and energy, too! (What do you think about that, Hendricks County alphas?)

I’m very good at saving energy myself. Even though I like a brisk walk once in a while, I have been known to dawdle a bit, especially if there are lots of good smells along the way. And I use as few steps as I can when they call me for supper. Of course, there’s nothing like a sixor seven-hour puppy power nap! Now, my cat buddies, they’re the real champs when it comes to saving energy. They’ve saved all their energy for eating and sleeping and that’s all for as long as I remember!

So, this is my challenge for you. For the next month, just turn off your computer when you are done. See how much energy you can save!

Thought for the Day: Albert Einstein was once asked what the most powerful force in the universe was, and he said, “Compound interest.” Saving energy is like that. It takes minimal effort to make a difference. It’s in all our best interests to do something, no matter how small it seems. Everything helps!

A Husbands Viewpoint

This story is about Childbirth from a husband’s viewpoint. Now I can hear a whole bunch of women saying, “What would a husband know about childbirth?” They are right. Husbands usually go into childbirth blindly. I did.

First it was the Doctor Visits. Then it was getting the nursery ready. Next it was going to showers (not me, her) Then she tells me I need to go to Lamaze classes where I will be taught how to breath. Right. Every week we would take our pillows and go to breathing class. We would lay on the floor and practice breathing. The teacher told me I was one of her best students. Right. This was going to be our first child, so we were clueless.

Finally, the time came for action. She started having contractions every 10 or 15 minutes. She was in constant contact with the Doctor. (I’ll bet he got tired of that.) He finally said “Don’t call until the contractions were 2-3 minutes apart. I fell asleep on the couch which was not very nice now that I think about it.

She read some where that she should pack sandwiches in her overnight bag in case the event happened in the middle of the night because he would get hungry. She made peanut butter and jelly. Right.

We finally went to the hospital around midnight and this contraction thing started getting serious. By the way, contraction is another word for pain, sheer pain. I ate a sandwich about midnight and got sick. I asked my wife to feel my forehead to see if I had a fever. She said “Can you wait a minute; I am having a contraction.” Right.

So, pretty soon she asked for the nurse because she was ready for her epidural. This is a shot they put into the spine to deaden the pain. I found the nurse and told her my wife was ready for her shot. The nurse informed me that your wife had to be further along on the birth before she could have the shot. Hmm. This is not good.

I returned to the labor room (I’m sweating now). I didn’t know what to do so I told her the nurse would be right in. (I may not go to heaven because of this.) Every now and then she would ask for the nurse, I would go out and stand in the hall a few minutes and come back and say “She’s on her way. “ Finally she came.

Later I was standing around with the Doctor while they prepared her and I asked him “Does it bother you when the husband is there when the baby is born?” He said no. It usually takes a while and at least we can talk about baseball or something. Right.

Our son came about noon the next day and he was a cutie. I cried. Not sure why. I was so glad to be a part of this miracle.

Great job, Dorothy.

A Note From Bee

During my growing up years fathers went to work, came home, had supper, read the newspaper, did odd jobs around the house, and then went to bed. Their love for us was understood because they provided for all our needs. Mothers did not work so child care was totally up to them.

My father, Lee Brezinski was no exception. My sister and I did not expect anything else. As far as fun things went our father took us fishing occasionally and to Riverside Amusement Park. He was an excellent role model. He taught us to be good citizens and good Christians. Whatever job we had as we got older we were to do it to the best of our ability no slacking. He was a strict disciplinarian. He very seldom had to whip us. Yes, whipping was acceptable. He just had to speak to us sternly.

Our Uncle Ed Kautsky was our go-to person for fun. I think that was due to the fact that he never fully grew up. To name only a few things, he took us to the circus and fair, swimming and to get ice cream. Men of his generation were uncomfortable telling people they loved them. It took Uncle Ed to his 80’s to tell me that he had stayed up all night waiting for me to be born. The first time he saw me he immediately fell in love with me.

So, yes, my sister and I had a good childhood.

Bee Jones

ASK MR. TRAFFIC

By Chet Skwarcan, PE, President/ Founder of Traffic Engineering, Inc. Chet@TrafficEngineering.com

Top Traffic-Related Questions

New Topics Each Week!

A quick review of recent emails suggests there are unanswered questions about what we call traffic-related questions in regards to traffic engineering principles or philosophies or engineering judgement (my favorite). Regarding the suggestions below, I would like to thank Larry S., Carl L., Steve E., and Bruce M., in that order.

Roundabouts — how can they be made more intuitive? The number of signs and the pavement markings scare my grandmother.

Scooter Mania — where should scooters drive? On the sidewalk? On the street? And they are so much fun!

Speed Bumps — should be illegal. Use speed humps or speed tables or more stop signs (just kidding about more stop signs — stop signs should never be used for speed control).

Self-Driving Cars — but I like to drive my own car — that’s why I bought a Pinto. And when all cars have autonomous-mode, we won’t need traffic signals or even lane lines (this may be a few years away, but it’s coming) — say good-bye to traffic congestion.

School Zone Speed Limits — the “When Flashing” sign — all day? What about holidays, snow days? Are all these signs networked? Liability concerns???

Crosswalks — where warranted? When should they be signalized? Are bikes allowed in crosswalks? (only if you’re walking it). And what about mid-block crosswalks — signalized?

Speed Limits — how are they established? What about a town-wide speed limit?

Traffic Calming — what is it? Neighborhood speeding and/or cut-through traffic — what can be done?

Signal Timings — who is responsible for keeping signal timings optimized and traffic-responsive? How often should it be done and how can adjacent signals be synchronized so I don’t have to stop twice?

Traffic engineering solutions continue to evolve. I am a fan of elegant solutions, as Henry David Thoreau said, “Simplify, simplify.” Or as I like to say, “Simplify.”

A Squirrel About Town

By Archy

“What’s that, Archy?” I asked. The squirrel was holding a tiny container, the size of a small matchbox.

“My box of treasures, of course,” he sniffed, not because he was being haughty or allergic, but because it seemed as if he had been crying.

“I assumed humans kept treasure boxes, too,” he continued, composing himself quickly.

I pictured that cigar box where I kept childhood treasures. An old marble, a blue-jay’s feather, a tiny pine cone, and pieces of broken china that worked their way to the surface each year we plowed the garden in the spring.

“Yes, Archy,” I replied. “Many of us keep treasure boxes, too. Will you tell me about some of yours?”

The squirrel seemed pleased that I asked. He held up something tiny and white.

“This is one of my baby teeth,” he said. “My mother kept it to remind her of my childhood. Now I keep it to remind me of her.”

I thought of those white leather baby shoes my mother tucked away in a dresser drawer.

“This is a chip of limestone from the last time the Court House was hit by lighting,” he said, holding a sliver of gray granite.

I realized I had some of the same pieces I picked up after that same incident and carried back to the office. I can still remember the sound of the lightning strike.

“Here’s one of my favorite pebbles,” Archy said, looking at what appeared to be a peach-colored jelly bean. “If you hold it under water, it sparkles. I’d show you if the fountain was working.”

I told him that I had some of the same items in my treasure box. He smiled.

“Some people think it’s funny to have such ordinary keepsakes,” he said. “But it’s the ordinary things that we find special that mean the most to us.”

Archy let me hold the tiny box and look at his collection. I handed it back and thanked him for sharing his treasure box with me.

“My pleasure,” he said cheerfully. “Always glad to contribute to your memory’s treasure box.

The Art of Weed Control In Your Garden

By Colletta Kosiba Hendricks County Master Gardener

Straw placed around the base of the plant makes a good weed barrier.

Got Weeds?

If your garden is like mine --You are pulling weeds and then pulling more weeds this time of the year.

Did you know there are literally hundreds of weed seeds in most garden soils? When you disturb the soil to plant or hoe -- you bring weed seeds to the surface and they germinate. Annual weed control: keep in mind these tips: 1. Identify the weed before your start. 2. Don’t till- it brings up those seeds…do not use horse manure. 3. Weed early; Begin pulling weeds while they are still small - 3 inches or less. 4. When your garden plants grow tall enough, they shade the ground. No sun- weeds shouldn’t grow.

5.Use organic mulches such as straw, bark mulch and grass clippings from untreated lawns (no chemicals), chopped leaves work, too - all will keep soil, cool, and hold down weedy growth.

6. Inorganic mulch – Another way to mulch is to lay black, green, or red plastic mulch down on the beds before planting. 7. Mulch your garden walkways!! 8. Don’t let weeds go to seed, one pigweed can produce more than 10,000 seeds in one season.

When weeding, try not to dig deeper.

10. You can always eat your weeds. That’s right lamb’s quarters and purslane when they are young may be added to salads. Or mix young chickweed with basil and parsley to make a great pesto.

I am ready to try a pre-emergent. Early Spring and Fall are the most effective times to apply pre-emergent herbicides. They can be applied throughout the year, however most weeds sprout during spring and fall so that is the key The Best Pre-Emergent Herbicides:

• Prodiamine is the longest-lasting, and most economical due to lowest application rates.

• Isoxaben prevents a very large list of Broadleaf Weeds.

• Oxadiazon is a great granular option – safe in with turf and ornamentals.

Every pre-emergent product is a bit different, but you can expect a single treatment to last approximately 3-5 months. An easy way to check on pre-emergent brands is on amazon who sells different brands.

Why did the gardener quit? His celery wasn’t high enough

Got Questions? Call The Home-Landscaping-Garden Help Line and Master Gardeners will answer your questions every Tuesday. May 18 to Sept 28. Hours 9:00-Noon and 1-4:00pm call 317-745-9260 (Hendricks County Extension)

A Father’s Day Remembered, Knee Deep In June

Julian D. Hogate was editor of The Republican from 1890 to 1931. He was also the father of two boys, Donald and Kenneth. In this editorial from June 20, 1907, he describes a day with his boys and the memories it recalled.

Did you ever go out and revive your boyhood days with your own boys? Did you ever leave all your troubles behind you one of these glorious June days, and renew your youth, bring back the half-forgotten experiences of other years, again wander along the golden highways, amid the perfumed meadows and the glorious castles of Never Never Never Land as your boys plied you with questions about the olden times?

Strange it is that to youth the olden days seem the best. A boy’s father always had a better time than the boy is having, it seems to the boy. A generation ago it was so when the boys of those days told the fathers of today of the stirring times during the war when the creek ran fuller and life was greater. And a generation from now these little fellows will be telling their boys of the days when the Big Four was double tracked and the trolley line built and of “how we used to play ball where it is all built up now.”

The grass is just as green – it’s blue in the pastures these June days – and the air is just as fresh and as balmy and the brook – it used to be a branch, and the creek – it used to be the “crick” – flow as merrily and the same craw-dads and the same mussel trails. And you find a shady spot and you pull your hat down and you recline to watch the little clouds and the big clouds and the thunder-heads form themselves into fleecy patches, leaving bits of deepest blue between, large enough to cut a sailor a pair of breeches and then you know it will not rain, for in the golden days there was a saying that when there was blue enough to cut the pants there would be no rain.

And you begin to sleep a little and the little fellows, tired with play, lie down alongside and one of them says: “Pop, were there ever any Injuns around here?” in an awe stricken tone. Then you watch a red-head hammer a tree and reply: “Yes, there were. They say right up here at Mc- Coun’s spring there was an Indian village.” “How do you know that?” “I don’t know it. I just remember hearing talk about it.

Right up there above where Rammel’s mill stood.” “Did you ever see a mill there?” “No. I never did but I saw some of the old sills.” “And George Rogers Clark when he captured Vincennes saved us from being English boys, didn’t he? And William Henry Harrison at Tippecanoe saved us from being Injun boys, didn’t he?” says the bigger boy. “I guess maybe that’s likely so.” One does not like to put memory against the inspiration of our present school course. “Say, Pop, what kind of marbles did you play when you were a little boy?”

“Well, we played knucks and bull ring and Cincinnati and when marbles were scarce, we played with coffee nuts.” “Coffee nuts? What are they?” Then you tell about coffee nuts and how they were once legal tender among boys. And an explanation of the various games shows that while names may change, the good old game of marbles in its various forms is just the same. “Did you every play mumble the peg?” “Oh, yes. Horace Ogden used to have to root for the peg pretty often.” “Well, let’s play,” and the lad digs out strings, balls, marbles and finally a knife that has a familiar look. “All right, but you must tell me how the plays come.”

And the game proceeds until it comes to the throw called “shave your pate” and you rebel.

Then the boy agrees to skip that because he can’t do it very well either and the game proceeds with all the twentieth century additions.

“Say, Pop, let’s go to the spring and get a drink.” The party repairs to the spring carefully protected by a large tile where gums were once used. And the boys hang over and drink their fill until one says he had a pain in his side.

“Say, Pop, did you know if you were going along the road and got a pain in your side and you’d pick up a rock and spit on the bottom of it and put it back just like it was, you wouldn’t have any pain any more.”

And with the statement would come a flood of memories. How that homely faith-cure was used years ago. And the confidences in its virtues. And the knowledge that it was so. Then a troop of boys of other days seemed to march by – Harry Campbell, Harry Wishard, Horace Ogden, Charley McCord, Will Weaver, ‘Teedy” Dill, Lannes McPhetridge, Joe Greene, “Hoppy” Watts, Bert Dooley, “Ducky” Rankin, and a score of others.

“But did you know, Pop, that if you’re going along the road barefooted and you come to a place where there is a fresh horse shoe print along the road and if you step into that print, your foot will turn into a hoof?”

“And pop, do you guess the Injuns drunk this way by sticking their faces down in the spring, only they didn’t have any tile around it?”

Did you ever go out with your boys and do all these things and talk and answer questions until it seemed the very sources of simple knowledge were drained. If you have not, then you have missed the joy of living. You have failed to find the greatest human happiness. You have failed to find the fountain of youth grander by far than Ponce DeLeon dreamed of.

And as the shadows lengthen, with your arms about your boys, you walk home through the early dews, the scent of new earth upon you, the light of heaven within you, happy and thankful for the chance to live a little, to work a little, to look up at the stars and rejoice.

Happy Father’s Day June 20, 2021

I have to brag on my dad, Danny Nelson of Brownsburg, this Fathers Day. I could not have had a better example of fatherly, unconditional love and leadership growing up. Even in bringing two families together from previous marriages, which is not an easy task, dad did it grace and compassion. He continues to show these same attributes with all of twelve of his grandkids which is truly a joy to see. If he reads this Happy Fathers Day dad! We love you and you are truly the best around.

Brent M. Nelson

Happy Father’s Day to our fun and adventurous Dada! Love, Myla and Ryan

To Terry Kessinger - Forever Daddy’s Little Girls

In memory of Rubert “Smitty” Smith on the second anniversary of his passing, June 20, 2019, and also for my second Father’s Day without him. Miss you, Dad! Love, Wanda Sue

A little surprise from the Vorholt family.