behind the great wall

The Caldwell County News - January 25, 2012Opinion/Editorial Page 2

Single Copy 75¢ tax Back Issue 80¢–Subscription Rates–

In Missouri1 Yr. - $28 (includes tax)Out-of-State: 1 Yr. - $34.00

Vol. 142, Issue 31, Wednesday, January 25, 2012Published weekly at 101 S. Davis • P.O. Box 187 • Hamilton, Missouri 64644

Phone (816) 583-2116 • Fax (816) 583-2118 • e-mail: [email protected] Page:www.mycaldwellcounty.com

(USPS 233-500)L&L Publications, Inc., Owner

Incorporated under the laws of MissouriAUGUST 6, 1985

Marshall and Anne Tezon, Co-Publishers

Periodical Postage Paid at Hamilton, MO 64644

POSTMASTER: Send address changes to:L & L Publications, Inc., 412 S. Davis St.,

P.O. Box 187, Hamilton, MO 64644

Staff: Anne Tezon, Editor and Publisher; DebbieRankin, Production. Cindy Fickess, Circulation; LisaParris, Features Editor; Stephanie Henry, Marketing;Dennis Clark, Distribution.

The Caldwell County NewsContinuing The Hamilton Advocate and The Braymer Bee

Behind the Great WallPart 10 of a Series

By Lisa ParrisI want to tell you I didn’t

know what I was doing, butthat would be a lie. I knew...

Two days before I startedmy teaching job, the directorof the school had my Chineseteaching partner, Gordon, takeme to a “re-education center.”A small crowd had gatheredaround the fence thatsurrounded the building. Afrail-looking man in tatteredclothing was led toward thegate. He was made to kneel.Then he was executed.

I was standing so close Icould smell the metallic scentof blood as it mixed with theair. Gordon turned to me,solemn and sad.

“So sorry. They make mebring you. They say you mustsee. You live under Chineselaw now. You understand?”

Back at the office, thedirector handed me a long listof forbidden topics: theRevolutionary War, the CivilWar, any national anthem orflag other than China’s, theChinese Cultural Revolution,Tiananmen Square...

In China, the official policyis: There was NEVER aprotest or massacre atTiananmen Square. TheChinese army did not openfire on crowds of students,killing several hundredunarmed protesters. It didNOT happen. They have asimilar policy on the CulturalRevolution.

So, when I popped my“Garth Brooks Greatest Hits”DVD in and hit PLAY, I knewit probably was not the bestidea because there was boundto be at least a little bit of flagwaving, but my students loved

cowboys... so what the heck. I didn’t realize how big a

mistake I had made until the“We Shall Be Free” videobegan to roll.

About 30 seconds into thevideo, there is a crystal clearshot of a group of Chinesestudents perched on top of avan, blood pouring from theirbandaged heads, waving theChinese flags whilescreaming “Dz-you! Dz-you!” – The Chinese word forfreedom.

In the background, Garthwas singing, “When the lastman dies for just words thathe said...”

A buzz went through myclass as I ran towards thetelevision. I reached for thestop button amid cries of,“Teacher, is that China?” and“Teacher, what hashappened?”

And instead of stoppingthe video, I paused. Thefootage changed: Americanflags; American soldiers; theBerlin wall, a pile of sheetcovered bodies; a throng ofscreaming students- Maybethey would forget. Then thecamera moved in on a singleChinese student standingbefore a string of tanks,refusing to be moved.

My students had no way of

knowing, these same tankswould soon plow throughcrowds of people, leaving atrail of death and destructionin their wake. The incidenthas been officially andcompletely erased fromChinese history. But I knew.I had seen it happen. I hadwatched the Tiananmenmassacre unfold almost 20years earlier from the safetyof my living room a millionmiles away.

I hesitated and then Ilooked at my class. I saw it intheir eyes- the shock, thesadness, the fear, the outrage.

I stopped the video, but thedamage had been done.

Later that evening, when Iheard voices in the hallfollowed by a knock at mydoor, I was expecting mydirector. I figured he wouldhave a few choice words tosay about my video. I did notexpect six armed policemento come storming into myapartment brandishing riflesand screaming at me inChinese.

I had no idea what theywere saying, but I was prettysure they were not reading memy rights as they forced meto my knees and placed ashotgun to my head. I couldnot speak. I could not breathe.It took all of my strength tonot cry. Stubborn as I am, Isimply would not give themthe satisfaction.

It was almost a relief whenthey snapped the handcuffsaround my wrists and drug meto my feet.

I was alive and I was beingtaken to a Chinese jail.

(To be continued...)❦

Going against the grain with “Friends in Low Places”

From the43rd“From the 43rd” is a non-

partisan article submitted bythe joint effort of 43rd CircuitJudges Tom Chapman andBrent Elliott. The purpose ofthe article is to give residents abetter understanding of thejudicial system as well asspecific operations within theCircuit. No explanation orexample utilized herein shouldin any way be interpreted asreflecting the judge’s approvalor disapproval of any law orrule. A circuit judge’s job is tofairly and impartially apply thelaw, not change it.

What is the 43rd Circuitand how was it formed?

Pursuant to Article VSection 15 of the MissouriConstitution, boundaries ofjudicial circuits are established

statutorily (Legislative passagewith Gubernatorial approval).

The Forty Third JudicialCircuit was originally formedby the enactment of Senate Bill96 in 1959. It initially consistedof Caldwell, Daviess andLivingston Counties. In 1969,DeKalb County was transferredfrom the 6th Circuit into the 43rd.

In 1981, Senate Bill 24 wasenacted moving ClintonCounty from the 5th to the43rd

Judicial Circuit. In addition, acircuit judge was addedcreating Divisions I and II,respectively. When seekingelection, Circuit judges mustdeclare which Division they arerunning in and, regardless oftheir Division, candidates must

run for election in all fivecounties of the circuit.

Currently, Thomas N.Chapman, of Chillicothe is theDivision I judge and R. BrentElliott, of Stewartsville isDivision II judge. In 2010,Judge Chapman was elected tofill the unexpired term createdby Warren McElwain’sretirement and Judge Elliottwas elected to fill theunexpired term created by theretirement of Steve Griffin.Look for the next “From the43rd” that will discuss selectionand term lengths of Missouri’sjudges.

NOTE: The 2010, 43rd

Circuit Judge elections were aMissouri first. It was the firsttime in history both judges ina two-judge circuit retired in

As campaigning for thenext presidential electionheats up, I find myselfsuffering from a severe caseof electile dysfunction: Acomplete inability to becomearoused by any of the currentcandidates.

What this country needs isa fearless, independent leader.With that in mind, I herebynominate my mother forpresident for the followingreasons:

10) She could negotiatepeace between rival politicalparties with one hand tiedbehind her back. WhenRepublicans and Democratsrefuse to get along, she willsimply make them sit besideeach other and hold handsuntil they learn to love oneanother.

9) She has no experiencein politics. She has no cluewhat foreign policy is. Shehas no military experience.Her grip on reality isquestionable. So, she’salready as good as our current

commander in chief.8) She speaks her mind.

You never wonder what shemeans or where she stands.In addition, she has notolerance for idiocy androutinely responds to publicdisplays of brainlessnesswith, “Did you eat a big bowlof stupid for breakfast thismorning, or what?”

7) She supports the firstamendment and has noproblem with people burningthe flag in protest, as long asthey wrap themselves in itbefore they set it on fire.

6) She has a refreshinglyhonest campaign slogan: “Ifelected, I will dosomething.”

5) She is a woman ofvision, though it is limited bythick, bi-focal lenses.

4) She is a woman ofaction. She is currentlyengaged in a one-woman

crusade againstcommercials featuringpoliticians because “it’sillegal to show boobs onregular TV.”

3) She loves theenvironment and why not,the earth is one of the fewliving things older than sheis.

2) She has a great pet, ayellow lab named Gracie,who would look right athome digging holes in theWhite House lawn.

1) She never makes apromise she can’t keep. Forexample, in 2012, herplatform could be builtaround the followingconcept:

“If I ran the country,things would be much,much better... for me,anyway. For you, it wouldprobably be about thesame.”❦

Vote for Mom! Why my mom should be president

The CCN weekly top tenBy Lisa Parris

On January 15th, 2012, Itime-traveled. A little bit. Ok,not really. But I wassurrounded by Union andConfederate Civil War officersand their staff. While it wassomewhat surreal, I attendedthe Blue and Gray Allianceleadership in Nashville at theinvitation of some of ourMissouri reenactors, especiallyour own Capt. Bob Green andLt. Col. Slocum, both of theConfederacy. On Saturday,both the Union andConfederacy wore theiruniforms to a day-longplanning session.

We are in the midst of theCivil War Sesquicentennial,which is a very long word forthe 150th anniversary. Thereenactors were planningenormous reenactments forthis year including Antietamand Chickamauga. Both ofthese reenactments involvethousands of reenactors andthousands of acres of land. Ihave nothing but admirationfor the depth and excellence ofthe people who are planningthese events. The Generals andtheir staffs are excellentplanners with high standardsfor safety and authenticity.

Yet, with all the planningfor these mammoth events,they were gracious enough toprovide me the time to reviewour plans for the CaldwellCounty Area Business

A mild case of time travel in Nashville

Association’s Kingstonreenactment planned for June1-3 of this year. Looking for alittle sympathy with humor, Isaid that I felt like a Chihuahuathat had managed to sneak upon the front porch with the bigdogs. There was actuallygenuine interest in our eventbecause it was part of the CivilWar border wars, which was adifferent aspect of the war inwhat was then called the Trans-Mississippi.

While in Nashville,Beverly and I toured theTennessee State Museum. Astypical in a museum this size,there were full-size dioramas,including depictions of theCivil War in Tennessee. Whileinteresting, the dioramas wereof scenes now familiar to me,since I’ve seen them withreenactors.

What particularly struck mewas a diorama of two realcannons with full-sized cut-outs of the artillerymen in theirpositions about the cannons. Ifyou were at the reenactment in2009, you saw reenactors inexactly those positions – butthey were moving and actuallyfiring the cannons.

Why does that matter?While a diorama gives me animpression, what really sinksin is a greater level of

appreciation for actual battlesthat our ancestors endured in areenactment. The Civil Wardefined America and her ideals.You have heard the phrase“Freedom is not free.” MoreAmericans died in the CivilWar than all wars since then.Reenactments are not meant toglorify war – only to increaseour appreciation of the pricethat was paid.

Caldwell County was atough place to live during the1860s. The reenactments arebased upon real events thathappened in 1861 and 1864. Ifyou would like to be a“civilian” in the 1864 raid, hereis your opportunity to emote!The Caldwell County Librarywill soon hold seminars inmaking 1860s period clothing.Call them at 816-586-2220 formore information.

If you are interested inworking with the CaldwellCounty Area BusinessAssociation in either planningand/or working the June 1-3reenactment, please call me at816-465-0052 or email me [email protected]. We stillneed volunteers. If nothingelse, spread the word onFacebook and Twitter bylinking to our site at http://www.caldwellcountymissouri.com/civilwar. ❦

Communities at CrossroadsBy John DeisConservative

CommentaryBy Bill Arthur

The Democrat’s choice forthe Republican Presidentialnomination has nownarrowed to one – MittRomney. Jon Huntsman, whowas attractive to manyDemocrats, even though theywould still pull the lever forObama, decided to bring hislimp campaign to aninglorious end. The formerObama choice forambassador to China hasdecided to throw his left-wingsupport to Romney, whom hehad previously said had nochance to beat the currentoccupier of the Oval Office.

It seems to me thatHuntsman was trying tothrow his name into the hatfrom whence Romney willpull out his Vice-Presidentialrabbit. The tepid, formerGovernor of Utah won’t evengive the “mental midget” JoeBiden much of a debateopponent, but tagging alongwith Mitt is his only chanceto gain higher office; and ofcourse, Romney willeventually buy thenomination.

Huntsman perceived thepresent atmosphere within theRepublican debate to be tootoxic, and that the GOPneeded to come together

around the candidate he iscourting for the side-kickposition.

It’s ironic that theDemocrats and their allies inthe press never assumed the2008 campaign for “chiefdonkey” to be toxic, evenwhen Bill Clinton and hisbride were accusing Obama ofplaying the race card on theircampaign. I’m also pretty surethe whole “birther” campaignbegan at the bequest ofHillary. No, not toxic at all.

Nevertheless, weconservatives are being told,if Romney can clinch SouthCarolina, we need to just rollover and accept the inevitable,even though he can only count12 delegates to his name atthis time. Mitt only has togarner 1,132 more delegatesfor nomination. Why can’t wesee that he is almost over thetop?

I wish the atmosphere wasless divisive, but how did itbecome that way? The truth is,Romney’s rich allies and theRon Paul-nuts launched adevastating campaign againstGingrich in Iowa, and the only

person upset with the attackwas Newt. There was hardlya word from the press; theyhad been staunchly behindRomney from the beginning,broadcasting the myth that heis the only man able to beatthe worst President the nationhas ever witnessed.

Since Santorum had thetemerity to challengeRomney and his millions, hetoo has come under the samevirulent attacks. He andGingrich have both tried tofight back; and for theirefforts, they have beendeclared as purveyors of thetoxic atmosphere.

Romney may win thenomination, especially ifPerry, Gingrich, andSantorum can’t throw-intogether and slow down thelandslide. It is a daunting taskat best, because the fullweight of the Democrat Party,the press, and Romney’sRepublican Party big-wigsare determined to grease theskids for him.

We conservatives will beleft with a candidate with nocore beliefs and the WallStreet and Romney-carebackground that Obama andthe press has been salivatingto challenge. That is toxic!❦

Democrat field narrows

Area Briefs

Work on Chillicothe’s newhospital continues at a “full-sped ahead” pace, withgroundbreaking hoped foraround mid-April.--Chillicothe Constitution-Tribune

Counselors and ministerswere called to the SouthHarrison Elementary Schoolon Wednesday to helpchildren deal with the tragicdeath of their classmate,

Jeremiah D. Lamm, 7, whosebody was found in a burningmobile home northwest ofBethany. According toauthorities, Jeremiah was thevictim of a murder committedby his father, Tony Ray King,28, of Bethany, who allegedlyset the mobile home on fire inan attempt to cover up thec r i m e . — B e t h a n yRepublican-Clipper

Premium Standard Farms(PSF) has announced it hassuccessfully completed

installing “Next Generation”barn scraper technology at itsfarms in north Missouriseven months ahead ofschedule.—Princeton Post-Telegraph

After holding a two-hourworkshop Thursday night,Odessa aldermen agreed todecide at a Monday nightmeeting whether to place arevenue bond issue toaddress sewer and waterproblems on the April 3ballot.—The Odessan

New column explains the 43rd Judicial Circuit

The Caldwell County News - February 1, 2012Opinion/Editorial



Vol. 142, Issue 32, Wednesday, February1, 2012Published weekly at 101 S. Davis • P.O. Box 187 • Hamilton, Missouri 64644








Staff: Anne Tezon, Editor and Publisher; DebbieRankin, Production. Cindy Fickess, Circulation; LisaParris, features editor; Dennis Clark, Distribution.



By Lisa ParrisEditor’s note: The article

you are about to read containsdisturbing, graphic material.We offer it far more than justa compelling story. Itspurpose is to make readersaware that in a foreigncountry Americans are notprotected if they consciouslyor unconsciously break rulesthat we may find ridiculous oronerous. It also aims to giveus an appreciation for thefreedom and rights we asAmericans take for granted.While many pundits andpowerful individuals likeGeorge Soros feel that the U.S. should be following China’smodel in governmentstructure and practices, thisstory should show thoseopinions to be faulty at bestand dangerous at worst.

The eighth amendment ofthe U.S. Constitution protectspeople from cruel and unusualpunishment. Outside of theUnited States the Constitutioncarries no weight; you haveno rights.

I left my apartment inhandcuffs, flanked on all sidesby armed guards. I wasstuffed into the back of anunmarked car and taken away.During the ride I tried to staycalm by focusing onbreathing, on the scenery, onanything but what washappening.

After what felt like aneternity the car came to a stopin front of a building thatlooked like an old hospital. Iwas taken inside and strippedof my possessions, includingmy clothes. I was hosed downwith cold water, then forcedto kneel as I was bound at thehands and feet.

Two male guards enteredthe shower area. Theytouched my hair. It had grownquite long by then. Bothguards gave an approvinggrunt, then they grabbed meby the hair and dragged medown the hallway.

They stopped in front of anopen door. It was paintedbright red. Of all the stupidthings to notice. I stared at thepaint, hating the color.

I could not see inside, butI could hear the sounds oflaughter mixed with muffledsobs and screaming. Iwatched the guards carry anaked woman out and dropher on the floor. She curledinto a ball and tucked her headbetween her shoulders, unableto disappear no matter howhard she tried.

The adrenaline rose in mymouth, metallic and bitter. Ishivered in the cold andwaited. The guards untied myhands and feet and pulled meupright, then ushered meinside.

Judging from the looks ofhis uniform, the man I stoodin front of was a high rankingmember of the military orpolice. He spoke to me in alow voice using language Icouldn’t understand, his headdown, cigarette dangling outof the corner of his mouth.Then he looked up and I sawhis eyes, flat and black; theeyes of a predator.

The other guards wereholding me against the wall.He shooed them away.

When they were gone, hestroked my cheek and Icringed. This lack of apositive response was not thereaction he was hoping for.

He placed one arm againstmy throat and used the otherto grab my chin. He grippedit tightly, turning my headtoward him. He kissed mehard, holding my head still as

he did it, covering my wholemouth. I was gagging andfighting for air as he rubbedagainst me and laughed.

It was the laugh that did it.I didn’t need to speak Chineseto know what was about tohappen. I have always heardthat if a man is assaulting you,you have better odds ofsurviving the attack if youdon’t fight back. But when helaughed at me, it made memad.

I used everything I had inme to fight him, stupid andpointless as it was. He yelledfor the guards and I struck outat them with my hands, myfeet, my legs, my arms... withevery blow, the grip on mythroat tightened. My visiondarkened, then bright pointsof color appeared, likeshooting stars in a summersky. I let my eyes close. Mybody went limp and Iremember thinking, “This isit.”

I came to later. I don‘tknow how long I was out. Iwas covered in dried blood. Icouldn’t feel my face. Mybody was a mess of mottledblack and purple splotches. Ididn’t remember what theyhad done and I was gratefulfor it.

I was lying on a thin matsurrounded by Chinesewomen. Their bodies showedsigns of abuse- welts, bruises,and abrasions. A young girlknelt beside me. She handedme an old hospital gown anda thin, grey blanket. “I amsorry for you,” she said.

Guards strolled throughthe room, randomly proddingpeople with nightsticks tokeep them from sleeping,removing those who were inneed of “instruction” andbringing them back when theycould no longer walk on theirown.

Food was scarce. We weregiven a small bowl of rice andclear broth twice a day. Theother women took pity on mebecause of my size. Theyoften offered to share theirmeager portions and, to myeverlasting shame, I took thefood and I was grateful for it.

Every few hours I wastaken to an interrogationroom, tied to a chair or table,and questioned about my plotto overthrow the Chinesegovernment. I was canedacross the back and the legs.Between blows theinterrogator would yell,“Where is the demonstrationto be held? How manystudents are involved? Whopaid you to do this?”

But I had nothing toconfess. I suppose that’s justas well because I would havetold them anything to getthem to stop.

When the physical abusefailed to produce results, theguards moved me into adifferent room. The girls wereyounger, age 15 to 25, andoddly silent. One of the oldergirls used her best English toexplain, we were to entertainthe guards at night. In the day,we were to do their laundryand shine their boots.

I did not need to ask whatshe meant by entertain. Ifound out on my own soonenough. Those of you whothink you do not have a

breaking point let me assureyou- you do. If you don’tknow what it is yet, then youare lucky.

I was foreign and exoticand wildly in demand. Theblue eyes, the blonde hair...They liked to pull it, to wraptheir hands. I swore if I evermade it out of this it wouldnever be long again. They toldme over and over that I wouldnever leave and that there wasnothing I could do.

They would lead me backto the room at the end of thenight and I would lie on thefloor and pray to a God I nolonger was sure existed. Iprayed for someone to findme. I prayed for help. Butmostly, I prayed for death.

Days passed, one afteranother; my heart refused tostop beating. Then, one daythe guards came in bellowingat the top of their lungs andmy cellmates started to cheer.

“You’re going home!”they said. Everyone waslaughing and hugging me,pushing me out the door. All Icould think was they were notgoing home and theyprobably never would.

I was given my clothes andtaken to the main entryway.Just beyond the doors I saw acluster of familiar faces- threeof the senior students from myschool, Lucky, Ben andSteven and the Senior IIEnglish instructor, a Britishgentleman named John. Theywere surrounded by severalserious looking Chinesegentlemen in business suits.

As the men spoke to me inrapid, clipped Chinese, thestudents translated. “He saysyou are to please return to theschool. He says you are toteach senior two students,only. He says you are toensure we do well on ourspeaking exams for the Army.He says if we do not do well,you will come back to here.Teacher, do you understand?”

I wasn’t sure, but I nodded.Noting my expression, Johnexplained. “These finegentlemen are to be pilots inthe Chinese army; a veryprestigious position.”

“They come from theupper crust, but it’s still verycompetitive. The Englishspeaking exam is veryimportant. You’ll be teachingthese boys. Your job will beto make sure they pass.”

Ben, the tallest of the three,said, “Teacher, do youunderstand? Do you accept?”

Of course I understood.My ex-husband is a careermilitary man who speaksfluent Arabic. Do you knowhow he learned to speak it?Through natives that had beencaptured or otherwise pressedinto service. The best way tomaster any language is tolisten to, and speak with, anative speaker.

I was not going to beteaching English to roomsfilled with bored freshmen. Iwas going to be teachingfuture military members howto be better spies.

I took one look over myshoulder. The buildingloomed, dark and dismal. Ihad not been treated anyworse than anyone else whowas being held there, but Ihadn’t been treated any bettereither. The AmericanEmbassy could not help me.The Chinese did not careabout our constitution, ourlaws, or our rights. BeingAmerican is not a bullet-proofvest.

I understood what theywanted from me and Iaccepted.❦

The U.S. Consitution was nohelp in a Chinese Prison

The men I would be spending the majority of my time with in the future. From left to right: Lucky,John, Ben and Steven

Looking Back in Braymer

Out of the Past in Hamilton

JANUARY 2007Missouri Governor Matt

Blunt has appointed Brady C.Kopek as Caldwell CountyProsecuting Attorney. Kopekreplaces former ProsecutorJason Kanoy, who was electedAssociate Circuit Judge in theNovember election.

Hamilton firefighters werecalled out early Saturdaymorning to the Arnaman RealEstate offices where a fire hadapparently started in a heatingstove in the front part of thestructure. Owner ChrisArnaman said he will rebuildon the current site.

JANUARY 2002Members of the Caldwell

County Lake SteeringCommittee met in special

session last Wednesday nightto hear the results of afeasibility study on a proposednew regional water supplysystem, including a newreservoir, new treatment plantand transmission lines. Thecommittee approved arecommendation to place ahalf-cent sales tax measure onthe countywide ballot for thisApril.

With television camerasrunning from the ground andfrom the air, and hundreds ofcurious onlookers watching, aChinook CH-470 helicopterfrom the Iowa National Guardflew over Polo’s newStagecoach Park last Thursdayto deposit the old Otter Creekbridge. The 1870s era bridge

was lifted from near its originallocation in the New Yorkcommunity by the Chinookand flown five minutes awayto its new home, where it willbe part of a walking trail.

JANUARY 1992In order to cut costs, the

Caldwell County Commissionwill be closing courthouseoffices on Fridays, transfer thecourthouse custodian to theroad and bridge crew and tryto house overflow prisonersfrom other counties.

Richard Lee, 31, ofHamilton, has filed for theRepublican nomination forstate representative and isseeking to replace longtimeSpeaker of the Missouri HouseBob Griffin this November.❦

FEBRUARY 1, 1962A memorial plaque

commemorating thenomination of Dwight D.Eisenhower has been placedin the Hall of Presidents atGettysburg, PA. The name ofMrs. D.I. Farrar, Braymer, oneof the Republican NationalDelegates from Sixth Districtwill be inscribed in the bronzeon this memorial.

Betty Gail McElwee is thewinner of the Betty CrockerAmerican Homemaker ofTomorrow award fromBraymer C-4 School.

Valentine specials atAmery’s: gift suggestions,

boxed valentines, chocolates,package of 21 with envelopesfor boys and girls, 29¢,Valentine cut out books tomake your own, 35¢.

FEBRUARY 4, 1982An unusual storm for this

season, a rainstorm, occurredFriday night, depositing overtwo inches of rain in areacreeks and rivers. The peltingrain broke up the iceencrusting the waterways andcarried it downstream, intofields and across roadways asthe waters overflowed theirbanks.

In conjunction with theAmerican Health Care

Association, the BraymerGolden Age Nursing Homewill hold a Rock ‘n RollJamboree Feb. 12 at the homewith several events planed forthe day.

JANUARY 30, 1992The Braymer Community

Historical Society received acheck in the amount of$2,818.06 from theCentennial Committee to beused for the Tobbin ValleySchool project. Plans are tomove the school building totown where it will be restoredand eventually used as alibrary and a museum school.❦

A Letter from HomeBy Anne Tezon

Lemonade Man will never letme live it down. A few weeksago we were out shopping in ourvehicle with the push buttonignition. After loading items inthe back, then throwing my purseinto the back seat with the remotekey fob inside it, I heard anominous click. The blasted carlocked us out, without my cellphone and without a way to getinto it.

Luckily, Lemonade Man hadhis billfold with a Triple A cardin it, so we went back in the storeand made a phone call. Forty-fiveminutes later, we were back inthe car and headed home.

Now, every time we’re outtogether in my vehicle, I amsubjected to the constantquestion, “Do you have your keyin your hand?” when I exit thecar. The challenge for a fearfulman who’s trying to think for aforgetful woman is how to attachan extra electronic fob to myperson. I don’t always wearsomething that has pockets in it,so that idea is out. (Besides, I’djust forget to take it out of thepocket, like so many credit cardsthat I’ve temporarily lost.) Alsonot tenable is my suggestion tosecret the extra fob up under the

hood, because you have to beable to get in the car to pop thehood.

The only solution to this is togo back to kindergarten days.You will soon be admiring myunique necklace—an electronicKia Sorrento fob.. Before long,I’ll be wearing a note around myneck with the fob that says, “Iflost, please return this person toLemonade Man” and a phonenumber.

But the tables were turned lastweek when we had to exchangethe electronic tablet I had boughthim for Father’s Day last year fora better functioning one. He isnow excited to be able to playMahjong on a bigger format thanhis Blackberry phone (which heinsists on calling a Blueberry) andto have an application that readsthe Bible or his favorite EdgarAllen Poe book aloud. But whenit comes to typing in a usernameand password or clicking on alink to navigate the web, he defersto me. I know just enough to bedangerous. When the youngwhipper snapper at the

electronics store told me therewas an app to store myusernames and passwords, Ipromptly downloaded it andinstalled it. But now I want itremoved, because I don’t trust itto not reveal my identity andcredit card numbers to someMiddle Eastern hacker. I mean,what are you supposed to thinkwhen the user guide that comeswith the app is full ofmisspellings and grammaticalerrors and a syntax that has to beAsian? I may have to go backto the electronics store to figureout how to remove the app.Meanwhile, I’m writing downall the usernames and passwordsand trying to figure out how toattach it to my new electronicnecklace. I’ll make a copy soLemonade Man can wear histoo. And the next time we buy anew car it will have an oldfashioned ignition key and we’llgo out and buy a magnet to holdthe extra one up inside the wheelwell.

And now I ask you, iselectronic stress worth it?❦

Hard lessons for the electronically challenged

The Caldwell County News - April 4, 2012Opinion/Editorial Page 2



Vol. 142, Issue 41, Wednesday, April 4, 2012Published weekly at 101 S. Davis • P.O. Box 187 • Hamilton, Missouri 64644








Staff: Anne Tezon, Editor and Publisher; DebbieRankin, Production. Cindy Fickess, Circulation; LisaParris, features editor; Dennis Clark, Distribution.



By Lisa ParrisLife changes in a moment.

An ordinary moment. You sitdown to eat lunch one dayand the world as you know itends. And those are themoments you remember withperfect clarity.

For example, onSeptember 11, 2001 at 8:55a.m. eastern time, I wasstanding in Border’sBookstore in Monterey,California removing oldmagazines from the displayrack and replacing them withnew ones. I had a copy ofGood Housekeeping in myhand when they announcedthe attack on the World TradeCenter. And the memory ofthat moment is as sharp andclear to me today as it was onthe day it happened becausethat’s the way the humanbrain works- you forgetthings you wish you couldremember and you rememberevery second of things youwish you could forget.

It was raining on May 12,2008 at 2:28 p.m. I washalfway between myapartment and my classroomand I was running late. Classofficially began at 2:30 and Iwas never going to make it intime. The school charged 50RMB for tardiness. That’sonly about $5 US, but I didn’tlike giving them a reason totake it. In my rush I trippedover my own feet anddropped the stack of DVDs Iwas carrying. I bent over toretrieve my movies.

I was standing in thisawkward, unbalancedposition when the earthmoved beneath my feet.

I lost my balance and fellover as the tremors grew instrength and intensity. I hadlived in California for fiveyears and had experiencedmore than a dozenearthquakes. They generallylast about 10 seconds. I curledinto a ball, tucked my headbeneath my arms and countedunder my breath, 1Mississippi, 2 Mississippi...But rather than subsiding, theshaking grew more powerful.

I heard the sharp crack ofa tree limb as it broke and fellto the ground. Then I heardthudding, like the rumble ofdistant thunder, pierced byshrill shrieks and screams.Chinese students camestampeding out of the school,trying to push past each otherin their panic.

I scrambled to my feet andplastered myself to the baseof a nearby tree. I felt studentspressing up against me,swarming around me.

The buildings began toshift and sway. Windowsshattered, sending shards ofglass flying through the air.Girls were sobbing. Boyswere yelling. Teachers stood,pale faced and mute, unsureof what to do.

I held my ground andclung to the tree and watchedthe world change insoundness and brightness andhotness from one second tothe next.

The Sichuan earthquakelasted for over three minutes-one of the longest in history.Though reports would varysomewhat later, it measuredat least 8.0 on the Richterscale and would turn out tobe the second deadliestearthquake in Chinesehistory and the 14th deadliestquake in the history of theworld. We were less than 20miles from the epicenter.

When the ground stoppedshaking, stillness filled theair. Everyone simply stoodwhere they were, afraid tomove, unable to process whatthey had just lived through.

Eventually a voice cameover the loudspeaker. A man,loud and confident, barkedout orders and everyonebegan shuffling towards theschool. Ben appeared fromnowhere and took me by theelbow.

“Teacher, we must goinside,” he said. It took thirtyminutes or more to get thestudents back in their desks.Most were too rattled to doanything but talk about theearthquake. Approximatelyfive minutes after thestudents took their seats, thebuilding shuddered again. Anaftershock measuring 6.5 onthe Richter scale rocked analready shaken world.

I stood back as mystudents made a run for it. Ifigured my odds of beingtrampled by humans werehigher than those of beingcrushed by debris. The windswept through the openwindows rattling the loosepanes.

Two pupils remained intheir seats- Ben and Lucky.

“Teacher, do you see otherpeople?” I looked out thedoor. There was no one lefton our floor, except us.

I shook my head and thetwo of them carefully pulledthe curtains over the windowand shut the door. Then theytook my laptop out of thecase, plugged in some sort ofdongle, and began typing likemad men.

“Look,” said Ben.The screen was filled with

images of what looked like ademolition site, as if a giantbulldozer had rolled througha town and plowed upeverything in its path.

“What is that?” I asked.Lucky gave me a grim

look. “Earth shake. Invillage.”

I ran. I cried out like awounded animal and turnedaway from my startledstudents, pushed Ben so hardthat I almost knocked himdown and darted past him.

Henry. Henry was in the

village. He was teachingtoday.

I hurried toward the gate,trying to scream but unable tofind my voice, and ranwithout looking back,pushing through throngs ofstudents, all the whilestruggling to draw a breath;the air was thick with dustthat clogged my nose, throatand lungs. I ran past theintricate fountains favored bythe school’s wealthy patrons,past the ornate sculptures thatadorned every doorway, pastthe elaborate murals createdby the most gifted artstudents, ran past the startledguards who called after me,dashed through the exit intothe cool spring rain, starteddown the road that led totown, heard a familiar voicecalling my name, so I finallystopped in the middle of theroad, shivering in my wetclothes.

Ben walked beside me allthe way to town. His eyeswere unnaturally wide and hisface was pale as he took inthe destruction outside theschool grounds. As wereached the edge of town hetook my hand. His fingerswere chalky and white, andhe squeezed my hand so hardhis nails bit into my skin.

From the top of the hillthat unofficially marked theentrance to the village, wecould see everything.Everywhere we looked therewas nothing but rubble.Houses, apartments, stores...every building had beenreduced to a useless pile ofrocks- including the school.

Parents had gatheredaround the perimeter of theplayground. They werecrying, calling out to theirkids, frantically trying tomove the wreckage underwhich their children wereburied.

Tremors from anotheraftershock knocked theparents off their feet. Whilethey were struggling to regaintheir balance the face of thenearby mountain began toslide toward them with aterrible rasping, scrapingsound. The sludge gainedmomentum, crashingdownward with a roar like agiant waterfall, gatheringrocks and trees that had beenuprooted by the quake, takingeverything in its way with itas it rumbled down the hill.

My throat tightened.“Run!” I yelled, but I knewthere was no way they couldescape.

The mudslide was rushingtoward them with the speedof a freight train. Ben and Istood frozen as the slidereached the parents, saw adark form tossed into the air,then watched them disappear.

For an instant, all wasquiet, as if the quake hadoccurred in a primeval forest.Then a high-pitched screamcame from somewhere insidethe mass of mud and concreteand rubble, a child’s scream.

They were alive.❦

Because I Said SoBy Lisa Parris

Earlier this week I had theopportunity to interview DavidAtkins, a blind runner; aninterview that I handled with myusual amount of tact, subtlety andgrace.

A jogger since the mid-70s,Mr. Atkins now runs “for fun.”When I heard the words “fun”and “run” used in the samebreath, I had something akin to aknee-jerk reaction andimmediately responded with,“Fun? Seriously? You know wehave the Internet now, right?”Then I immediately kickedmyself.

It was meant to be a joke, buthow entertaining is YouTube tosomeone who can’t see thecomputer screen?

Flustered at my faux pas, Istumbled onward. “You knowwhat would make running fun?If you ran through the streetmaking bleeping noises... Thenit would be just like SuperMario.”

He smiled. “Yeah... I don’tplay video games.”

Doh! Way to go.I was definitely on a roll.Mr. Atkins pointedly cleared

his throat. “ I actually startedrunning to improve my physicalfitness.”

I had to hand it to him. He was

certainly trying to keep things ontrack. Sadly, I could not pullmyself together. “Really?” Ireplied, “ I only exercise so whenI am about to die I can tell myself,‘Well, at least I don’t have toexercise anymore.’ Always lookon the bright side, right? I mean,seriously, exercise machines arejust torture devices with goodmarketing campaigns.Hahahahaha...”

He was not amused.It would have been best if I

had stopped talking all togetherat that point. But it was aninterview and I had to saysomething, so I asked aboutmarathon running, which hedoes to help raise money forcharities. When he finishedgiving me the details, I openedmy mouth and this is what fellout:

“I think I might like to run amarathon one day just to proveto myself I can do somethingreally awful for no reasonwhatsoever.”

OMG. My jaws snappedshut. I was afraid to open them.There was no way of knowingwhat idiotic thing I would say

next.(silence)(silence)(silence)“Well, if that’s how you feel

we have a 5K coming up in acouple of weeks. It’s not actuallya marathon, but it’s for a goodcause.”

I couldn’t say no. Not after Ihad dropped the ball so manytimes. And that’s how I came tobe registered in the Walk it, Runit, Roll it 5K. Joining others in the‘my-knees-hurt’ age bracket, Iwill be walking three miles,probably in flip-flops as I haveno running shoes, to no particulardestination, even thougheverybody knows only crazypeople walk without direction.

I suppose I will have to workout a bit between now and thenso that I am not passed by toomany white-haired seniors withwalking canes. But since it’s thethought that counts, for now I willjust continue to think aboutexercising. I know there is ahealthy person inside mestruggling to get out, but don’tworry, I can usually sedate herwith four or five cupcakes. ❦

Fun Run is an oxymoron; I am a regular moron

May 12, 2008- The Day the Earth moved

ConservativeCommentary

By Bill Arthur

“This is my last election. Aftermy election, I have moreflexibility.” PresidentBarack Obama

President Obama rusheddown to Cushing, Oklahoma thismonth to make sure he couldsomehow get some credit for theconstruction of the southern legof the TransCanada KeystonePipeline. This project is designedto help relieve the stockpile ofcrude oil at the Cushing terminalcomplex. However, this leg ofthe pipeline that will transport thecrude oil to the refineries alongthe Gulf of Mexico doesn’t needhis approval. Therefore, hisappearance was mainly forpublicity purposes - in acampaign year.

The international portion ofthe TransCanada pipeline thatwould have actually increasedthe supply of oil coming into theUnited States from Albertaneeded the Presidential “Seal ofApproval,” but that leg wasrejected by Obama in February.

The intermediate leg neededto transport oil from NorthDakota to Cushing is also tableduntil after the election, eventhough the people of Nebraskaredesigned that portion of the lineto circumvent the OgallalaAquifer, whichenvironmentalists deemedthreatened.

The new pipeline that wouldcross North Dakota would havealso had enough capacity totransport some of the oil being

pumped from the rich Bakken oilfields. In lieu of the Keystoneline, the Bakken oil is beingtransported by rail to the Gulf intank cars. Although this seemssomewhat inefficient, it hasproved a boon to Obamasupporter, Warren Buffet, whoconveniently owns a major sharein the BN-ATSF Railroad.

The American oil companiesthat have been refining theCushing oil into gasoline havebeen extremely profitable due tothe burgeoning backlog of oil atthe terminus.

The price of West TexasIntermediate crude oil, which ispriced at Cushing, was as muchas $28 per barrel lower than theBrent crude that comes from theNorth Sea.

The announcement of theconstruction of the southern legof the line to the Gulf had anegative effect on the stock pricesof these companies.

So, why is the President sointerested in a pipeline that onlytakes oil to the Gulf withoutincreasing the supply of crudeavailable for refining? Theanswer is somewhat complex,but in the Machiavellian worldof Obama – very predictable.

The President does not wantto increase the supply of oil inthe United States. The Keystonepipeline would have delivered upto 900,000 barrels of Canadian

oil per day into our country.However, the Natural ResourcesDefense Council, anenvironmental watchdog groupsays, “Due to declining demandand improving energy efficiency,the United States does not needtar sands oil.”

Why the decreased demand?That can be explained because ofour moribund economy that hasbeen built on $4 per gallongasoline, electric cars that don’twork, and a stock market inflatedwith cheap paper from the Fed.An increase in the supply of oilthat could not be interrupted bysome of the world’s mad Mullahswould, in my mind, bring stabilityto our energy market - much thesame as the development of ournatural gas supplies.

The crude that will now flowto the Gulf refineries will morethan likely be exported asgasoline. Our weakenedeconomy cannot consume it, andarrogant crackpots like BillO’Reilly will, in the interest of the“folks” (which means BillO’Reilly), decry the oil industryprofits.

President Obama will chimein and say, “See, I built thepipeline (with no taxpayermoney) to help alleviate the priceof gasoline, and the evil oilcompanies have just gone andsold it to the Chinese. What’s aPresident to do?”

I hope we are smart enoughto see this ploy for what it is. Thisguy hasn’t a leg on which tostand.❦

No Leg to Stand on

behind the great wall

Documents

hamilton advocate

crowds of students

students lovedcowboys

anne tezon

thechinese army

thechinese cultural

caldwell county newscontinuing

opinioneditorial page