The Ottawa Herald from Ottawa, Kansas on April 13, 1963 · Page 4
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The Ottawa Herald from Ottawa, Kansas · Page 4

Ottawa, Kansas
Issue Date:
Saturday, April 13, 1963
Page 4
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OTTAWA HERALD Page four Saturday, April 13, 1963 Editorials Saturday Notebook Sporting a new sports car around town is retired motor car dealer Mike Hewitt. The long white model is one of those American made jobs which has three times the horsepower needed by conventional machines. One day this week it was sporting something extra, a coon tail tied to the radio aerial. Hewitt discovered the "extra" when he went out to get in it one morning. Curious as to who the prankster was, he left it on, then made the rounds of the coffee groups downtown. Nobody mentioned it and Hewitt was stumped. His wife, though, supplied the answer. She recalled that Hewitt had tied one on the car of a high school graduate two decades ago. He had sold the car and delivered it to the youth as a graduation present from his parents. Sure enough, when Hewitt called Robert B. Anderson, the creamery executive and school board member admitted he was the prankster. What's more, it was the same coon tail. Anderson had saved it all these years. At long last the state is going to do something with the county's biggest road hazard, Coats Corner on US59 south of Princeton. At midweek the safety depart- To Your Good Health ment reported it plans to install flashing blinkers at both approaches. What's really needed is rebuilding of the road, but that appears to be years away. Back for a visit the past week were Dr. and Mrs. Spencer Martin. He is the son of Dr. and Mrs. A. B. Martin of Ottawa University. Spencer is a professor at Parsons College at Fairfield, Iowa. He was telling us of some of the radical changes in education that are going on at Parsons. The college maintains a group of scouts aross the nation. They recruit students like so many schools recruit football players. Professors teach 15 hours a semester. The school year is broken into three semesters, tri-mesters they are called. A professor teaches two thirds of the year, then does research or advance study the rest of the time. Martin says the school is run a lot like a big corporation. Students are allowed to repeat courses they flunk with the grade made the second or even the third time the one appearing on the permanent record. While many of the ideas used at Parsons may appear radical by most standards, Martin pointed out that Parsons is the fastest-growing small college in the nation. Thh And That by jph At Church With Buddhists An Unhealthy Atmosphere Dr. Molnei By DR. JOSEPH G. MOLNER Have you ever run into a nerve-wracking experience after which you couldn't eat, sleep, relax? Ever been so nervous about anything that you threw up? Or even had a dizzy spell? Or gone home with a "sick headache"? Or had • gassy stomach? If not, you have iron nerves. But if you ever had any of these troubles, or other similar ones, you'll understand the following letter — especially if you read it all the way through including the P.S. at the end. Dear Dr. Molner: What is functional disease? I have a niece 24 years old, who has been sick for several years, off and on. She has blackout spells, falls down and runs a temperature most of the time. She has been in the hospital for tests and to sev- ieral doctors. They can't find anything wrong with her, except one doctor who says she has "functional disease." What can be done for it and is it curable ? She is a single girl who lives at home. -T.W. P.S.: The atmosphere at home is very bad. Could that have anything to do with it? I Everybody, I presume is familiar with the term, organic disease. This means that something is wrong with an organ of the body. Examples are: the heart, if a valve has become scarred; stones in the gall bladder; an ulcer in the duodenal tract. Each is organic. If the organs, physically are in good shape but don't operate properly, that's a functional disorder. The heart or gall bladder or duodenum are excellent, except they work too fast, or too slow, or have carmps, or otherwise act up. That's functional. What about the young woman described in today's letter. She's been examined by a number of doctors, and been in the hospital for tests. Nobody can find anything wrong. So one doctor (Bright fellow, I'd say; he pegged it!) used the term functional. The young woman's all right, except that her healthy body makes her faint, upsets her temperature, and so on. So the clue, in a case like this, lies in that little short postscript on the letter: "The atmosphere at home is very bad"? Why is a woman of 24 still at home and unhappy? And having fuctional disorders in a body that is healthy? Emotional pressures of some sort. I haven't the slightest doubt that somewhere along the line doctors have suggested that the "atmosphere at home" is at fault, or the "emotional problems" should be resolved or treated. At each such suggestion — again by guess or intuition — the-thought was rejected, and another doctor, or another hospital was summoned to find out why this girl is sick. Functional is a tactful word. My version is: Either let the girl live her life as she wishes, or else call for a psychiatrist who very well may advise likewise. Something's very wrong in the "atmosphere." Dear Dr. Molner: Is it all right for a woman to wash her hair during the monthly period?—R. All sorts of horrendous old wives' tales to the contrary, there is absolutely no reason not to. Note to Mrs. D. R.: There are two kinds of Oppenheim's disease, quite different from each other, so I'd have to know which one you are inquiring about. SINGAPORE — I was invited to a family party for Sunday luncheon and to my surprise found myself attending religious services. Buddhist ones. 1 was a most cordially received outsider, and the only one, in the large group of relations and priests. There were half a dozen in the kindergarten set. Good representations of the younger married and those not quite so young A few > grey heads. They were all Ceylonese, although the family has been here for nearly a century, conducting a quite successful jewelry establishment. The scene was a comfortable cottage. The solid wood shutters had been thrown back to let the breezes come in through the windows, covered only with a light metal grill work, on three JPH aides of the large, central room. All of the floor covering and furniture, except for a round table, had been removed from the room. The family narty, otherwise in their Sunday best, also had removed their shoes. Along one wall a row of cushions had been arranged on the floor and neatly covered with sheets. At one end two low tables had been placed to serve as a shrine. On them were a tray of food, a lighted candle, a plate on which were some large, white blossoms, and a glass containing several burninp joss sticks. My host furnished explanations. Exactly a year before, the head of the house had died It was traditional on the anniversary to invite the bud- dhist priests in for a meal in memory of the dead. Were it not for such invitations, the priests would go hungry. They are dedicated to poverty. Theoretically they go from door to door for food contributions to their begging bowls which all of them carry along with small bags containing their other meager worldlv possessions. They must eat their one meal of the day before noon and before anyone else has taken a bite in their presence. Actually, most of the priests today are provided with cars. The priests soon arrived. They were brown-skinned, barelegged, and had shaven heads. They wore nothing but lengths of cotton cloth draped in a way to covei them completely. Some of the cloth was saffron, some orange, and some a shade in between. There were eight of them. One, I was told, was from Ceylon and the others were Burmese and Chinese, but I never was quite sure which was which. Without words and expressionless, the priests sat down, cross-legged, on their sheet-covered cushions. A mat was unrolled on the floor in front of them and at least 25 dishes of different food were placed upon it. They were for symbolism, however, and no< for eating. A gesture from the senior priest had all of the family sitting cross-legged on the bare floor, with the women and children in the background. Another priest began intoning some sort of a creed with the family members at intervals muttering a response. Then the senior one gave what may have been a prayer and may have been a sermon, but in either case was long. Prayer over, they dined. Lavishly. A bowl ot soup. A large tray of hors d'oeuvres. A substantial main course. A plate for each containing at least a quart of rice. A selection of gelatines A tray of pastries and fruit. A final cup of tea. It did not take long, however, because the priests, linger up their food fast. And the service to them was superb. Everone from the tots up vied to place plates before them. To serve a priest is an act of piety. After such a repast a prayer of thanks naturally was called for. It was preceded by a chant by six of the priests. The thanks were profuse. They took 17 minutes, and to my unfamiliarly crossed legs on the floor it seemed considerably longer. But finally it was over. The priests poured water over their fingers into a bowl which was passed before them rinsed their mouth spat into the bowl, arose, and expressionlessly walked out. They did not even give thanks for the new robe that had been presented each of them, unless the senior one had worked it into his long prayer The priests gone, the air of solemnity vanished and a nice buffet luncheon was served to all of us less holy. My hostess was considerate. She found me a fork. The others found their fingers sufficient. Food finished, I made my adieus, regained my shoes and my car, and was on the way back to the hotel for a proper Sunday nap. Auld Lang Syne 25 YEARS AGO Kenneth and Hortense Harris, students at University of Kansas, Lawrence, were here to spend Easter holidays with their parents, Mr. and Mrs. E. J. Harris. Mayor E. V. Gibson attended a meeting of the Jeffersonian Club at Wichita. Raymond McCullough, 11, broke his left arm while vaulting over a ditch with a pole. 50 YEARS AGO Adolphus Averttl returned to his home at Wellsville after visiting friends here for a few days. J. O. Seymour, of Rantoul, was here to report to county officials that the Rantoul School District had voted $1,500 for school expenses for the coming year. W. L. Cayot went to Wellsville on business connected with the Cayot store there. Prayer For Today Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. (Luke 23:34.) PRAYER: 0 God, awaken all Christian people to the knowledge that Calvary's cross is the heart of the gospel which Christ, Thy Son, has commanded us to live and proclaim to others. Let its power capture us afresh that we may be its joyful hearalds. For Jesus' sake. Amen Cyclone Doin's MARGARET ANNE Easter Holiday Is Here At Last By MARGARET WILLIAMS and ANNE MACHIN Laff-A-Day A. I. Van Cleave It Was The Last Time I Broke Into A Church © Kill Futuru Syndicate, Int, 1M3. World rights reserved. 4-13 "This is just a guess, but it might be the thing I took off to fix the washing machine." By A. I. VAN CLEAVE This is not an Easter story. But perhaps, as the trial lawyer says, "connect it up" later. Once I was guilty of breaking and entering. There was no arrest, no charge, no trial and no conviction, though I stood ready !hen and have 5 i n c e to plead guilty. It was in the 'all of 1945, and the wars had ended for a lit- He while. The boys had come home, I to the farm, to t h e tiny commu- Van nity in which I had attended school and the smaller one to which my parents had taken me to church from diaper days through my know • it - all senior year. They were waiting with hugs and kisses at home and with pats on the back at school. But there was a piece of two-by-four nailed across the double doors of the church's entrance. AM! I took a claw hammer pvM ttw two-by-four off It wai u I had remembered oh so many times when the ocean separated me from it. Just one jig room — no classrooms (Sunday School had been in the grove), no offices, no kitchen, no baptistry (a little stream ran nearby). There were the benches, crude when new but worn smooth and shiny for as long as I could remember. On one I found a hymnbook which opened readily to "Rock of Ages," "Blood of the Lamb" and "Old Rugged Cross." I tiptoed down an aisle, not stepping on the places where, if my memories were right, my father had knelt and prayed. That was during the years when he had been a deacon and Sunday School superintendent and treasurer. . . during my early years when, at some point in a long sermon I would feign sleepiness and my father would carry me out on his shoulder and lay me on a quilt in the wagon . . . during the years when I had sat near the front with my par ents and gradually moved on back to giggle with the other teen agers near the rear. The old organ still was there, behind the sloped stand where the preacher stood when he wasn't walking from side to side, shaking his fist, listing our sins and telling us how hot it is in Hell and how heavenly it is in Heaven. The Picture, a copy of a fair painting of the Lord, still was hanging above the organ. The single benches facing the others, one on each side of the pulpit, still were there, where the deacons used to sit and punctuate tho sermons with shouted "Amens." I asked someone why the two - by four was nailed across the doors of the church. Well, it had come to the point when not many people showed up for services and they couldn't get a preacher. How different were the years of the 'thirties. Then uVre had had to be a God and Heaven, for it was so poorly on earth. Then, there had always been a preacher, because every farmer had had his "God's Little Acre." Only it was called the "Preacher's Cotton Patch." Then, there always was a crowd at church, for when you have cotton patches all you can do is plant and plow and hoe and pray. But prosperity had come Who needs coital patches and who needs God when you can get a buck-sixty-five an hour on overtime at the Army bases? That was my last breaking and entering "Job." Because I lost more there than I found. Ottawa RoUer Rink Public Sessions Wed. and Fri 7:30 to 10:00 Sat nights 8:00 to 11:00 Private Parties CH 2-9704 Mon., Tues and Thurs Sun Matinee: 1:00 to 3:00 Children 12 and under ENDSTONITE "THIEF OF BAGHDAD" "3 STOOGES MEET HERCULES' * * * Show Starts 7:15 Sun.-Mon.-Tuts. 'YEAR'S FUNNIEST!'! M'G-M presents 9 LANA HOPE -TURNER' in a TED RICHMOND PRODUCTION inCINEMASCOPE Jnd MetroCOtOB , "'"""'JANIS PAIGE IL J^JIM HUTTON • PAULA PREMiSS^ FoorboH Highlights Attend Church Easter Hillcrest Drive-In Ottawa Herald *****> 1962 FIRST IN KANSAS toe-lot a. M«ID PublUbed dally except Sunday ana iolldays. Second class pottage at Ot- awa. Kansas. Robert B. WvlUngtci Editor Ana Publisher Subscript n in rales to trade *rea—B\ mall, one month $1.00, three months. $3.00, ate months. tS.OO, one yeat 9.00 duoscriptiiio ratet uuuide trade uree —By mall, one month, n.SO: three monies $4.26: ell months. 18.00: one ear, 115.00. MEMBER OB DiE ASSOCIATED FRE88 The Associated Press it entitled ex- cluslvely to the use foi publication ol all the local news printed In the Dews. oarer aa wall w all AP oew» «l» patch. The countdown until Easter vacation is over. Rosie Lister, Mary Ott, Kathy Reusch, Don Meyer, Edith Ponton, Jane Wedman, Bill Douglas, Judy Ferguson, Barbara Heathman, Eloise Warner, Carolyn Christensen, Jeannie Hogelin, Kay Cooper, Edith Keenan and Mr. P. K. Worley, their sponsor, started their countdown long ago with "only 89 days 'til we eave for New York!" These fortunate individuals now are enjoying an Easter Trip to Washington, D. C., and New York. The group left Wednesday and will return Wednesday. The travelers were not the only ones counting the days. All OHS students have looked forward to this, the only vacation of the second semester and the end of the fifth six weeks period. The vacation hours already are filled with plans for church, catching up on sleep, being outside in the spring weather and, for many students, research papers. Thursday afternoon the senior high Kayettes watched a program entered by the organization in the Kansas Kayette magazine. Living for the Future" was presented by Darline Diven, Margaret Williams, Linda Showalter, Cheryl Campbell, Kay Barr, Lindy Wallace, Kerry Pound and Sharon Barnes. The program was written by Linda Showalter and Anne Machin. After the program, donations to CARE were given by the members. Another project of the Kayet- tes is collecting old greeting cards for the Parsons Home for Retarded Children. The children enjoy looking at the bright- colored pictures. In the junior high, the students of Mrs. Pat Barnes walk the halls of the building during their class hour. The girls in home problems classes are practicing poise and good posture as they roam the halls with books on their heads. Another poised girl was noted in the senior high as April's Future Homemakers of America Red Rose Girl. Eloise Montgomery, a junior club member was chosen by the club. Though the countdown for Easier vacation is completed, OHS students will start counting the days until the senior play, the )rom, elections for 1964 club of- icers, cheerleader elections and graduation. Now! PERFECT ENTERTAINMENT! Walt Disney Jules Verne's JOCK PHONEY**** Week Days and Sat. Eve. TARZAN —7:35 CASTAWAYS — 9:15 Saturday Matinee TARZAN —1:35 CASTAWAYS — 3:15 CONTINOUS SUNDAY On* of • series ol reports by ttlfe newspaper and the Print Advertising; Association oo the advantages ot print media,, Don't you read before you buy ? Most people do. They count on advertising in print to give them the information they want on product* that interest them—information on features . . . designs . . . and prices, for example. People not only read about products and services, they show ads to their family and friends; they clip coupons for information and samples; they tear out ads to take along when they go shopping. When you add it all up, print advertising—* the kind you read in the pages of thig new* paper—make* sense. And because it measures up to the buying habits of first consumers, print makes tH"a, Most people read—and then buy. Don't you! The Ottawa Herald

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