The Times Leader from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania • 17

VIEWS SECTION timesleader.com TIMES LEADER SUNDAY, DECEMBER 9. 2007 A LOOK BACK) Ashley native Russell Johnson RICHARD L. CONNOR OPINION 5 The media, too, must prioritize county problems 'XL. S3 4 Ashley native Russell Johnson had been actlnq for more than a decade when he landed "The Professor" role on "Gllllgan's Island." Here he's shown on the set of the classic television hit In the mid-1960s. Johnson took acting classes In California after being discharged from the U.S.

Army Air Corps In 1945. -Irofessor' Ptf 'f IIS' if i 5 i TOM MOONEY OPINION Tears flow as the bootlegger mystery ends Christmas was drawing near, and Jean couldn't wait to see the bootlegger again. Busying herself around her Parrish Street, Wilkes-Barre, home in December of 1926, she found her thoughts wandering over and over to the man who showed up in his big car, trunk full of liquor bottles, every year at this time. What an exciting figure he cut He dressed all in brown leather, with high boots. He was a handsome man too -tall and black-haired, with a thin mustache.

Certainly, Jean thought, he had girlfriends everywhere his business took him. She'd pressed her dad John for information. All he'd been able or willing to tell her was that the bootlegger was from Canada and that was where he got his stock of liquor. With prohib- sSf ON THE WEB uranwl hia Read more columns at daughter, you couldn't trust the American www.timesleader.com. stuff, probably bottled in someone's cellar and likely to kill you if you drank "it.

And John deserved his liquor, Jean could see. He was a signal maintenance man lor the Jersey Central Railroad. He was forever. getting called.out in the cold to go someplace in the woods and fix a led light that had burned out or down to the other end of the county to replace a crossbuck sign that had been broken. When he returned, perhaps with ice on his heavy clothing, nothing fit the bill like a nice hot toddy.

Jean and her dad lived right next door to St. Patrick's Church. She loved that place, with its Masses and traditions and everything that kept her safe and sound. She'd even had her picture taken there three years ago, standing proud in her Confirmation dress. Maybe someday I can find a boyfriend like the bootlegger, she sometimes thought.

We could get married right here. "Hell be here, don't you worry," her father had told her, patting her on the head. Jean wondered if it would be all right for her to say something to the bootlegger this time. He had smiled at her last year. Right in their kitchen.

That was something. There he was. The leather-clad bootlegger was parked out front, fishing in the trunk of his big, powerful-looking car, picking out her father's order. "Hello," she chirped to him as her dad let him into the kitchen. Darn," she thought.

"That wasn't much." The bootlegger smiled. "How are you, dear?" he said, setting a half-dozen bottles down on the table. "Dear," Jean thought He'd called her "dear." Maybe she could think of something else to say before he left She didn't understand everything the bootlegger and her dad talked about as she stood nearby and her dad got some money out. They called each other by their first names, and she heard some unfamiliar roads mentioned. But then Jean froze.

Amid the bootlegger's words, Jean heard him say "my wife" sometJiing-something. "Well see you, John," said the bootlegger, heading for the door to leave. Jean waved limply. "Bye, dear," he called to her. Jean heard the powerful engine rev up and fade into the distance.

She didn't go into the living room to watch him, though. She walked into the dining room and looked out the window, at the side of St Patrick's. Jean sighed. "God, please protect the bootlegger," she whispered. "Keep him safe.

Bring him home to his family." Then came the tears. Out in the kitchen, her father my grandfather whistled "Joy to the World" as he put the bottles in the cupboard. Tom Mooimv is a Times Leader columnist. Reach him at ri if i Une ot my major concerns during the 1 past few weeks has over allegations of misuse of debit cards issued to a few Lu zerne County employ-CCS. I have worried that reporting on what is now a couple of isolated and rather small incidents will cause all of us to lose focus of bigger, systemic problems in county government.

Stories such as these can easily take on a life of their own as reporters and editors hustle to cover them. Covering them heightens the competitiveness among newspapers, radio stations, and television stations, sometimes creating a feeding frenzy and pack journalism, which can be dangerous. Through the years, The Times Leader has distinguished itself as the pre-eminent media watchdog on government We have pursued with vigor issues such as freedom of speech, the public's right to know, the need for open and transparent government, and we've monitored how your tax money is spent. is a time-honored and tradi-tional role for a newspaper and we intend to continue it. While we pursue these stories, we also intend to avoid letting a sense of competition cause us to lose our sense of fairness or perspective.

Today, in an editorial, we offer our view of the debit card problem. We have been deliberate in our response because we want to offer well thought-out and rational solutions. Fun as it can be to take offense and hit notes of high indignation when a newspaper discovers a government misstep; we'd rather be part of the solution and not part of the problem. One of the ways we do that is to take a larger view of this situation. The county has an enormous budget problem with a nearly $15 million deficit And now there is a crisis looming over a challenge to proposed bond borrowing that threatens to shut down much of the county's operations.

But so far, much of the media's attention has been focused on possible misuse of the county's debit cards. Why has this commanded so much attention? Sex. Naked women. When it was discovered that deputy prison warden Sam Hyder's county debit card included $71 spent at a Las Vegas strip club, the story began dominating front pages and the broadcast airways. Then it was discovered County Commissioner Greg Skrepenak used his debit card to pay a $248 bill for a hotel room for his children while at a work-related convention.

And all of a sudden there was a new chorus of complaints that Skrepenak looked like the fox guarding the hen house. At that point we lost focus. And my fear has been that we might rush either another story or an editorial into print to avoid being "beaten" by other media. While I applaud and respect reporters who are first to report a story through hard work, painstaking digging for facts, and developing good sources, being "first" is not high on my list of priorities for this newspaper. Being accurate, fair and balanced are on the top of the list.

The real problem here is not use or misuse of debit cards; it is the lack of a clearly articulated policy and system of procedures. It is difficult and perhaps unfair to criticize debit card users when there was no set of rules to follow. Hyder has repaid the $7L And now all debit card holders have reviewed their receipts or are in the process to see if they owe money to the county. The next step is for the county to adopt a clear policy for debit card usage and move on. Currently, a flap over $300 of money, perhaps misspent accidentally, is neither a crime nor the biggest problem facing the county.

And Skrepenak and Hyder haven't been proven to be crooks. PI 3 More than a decade before starring In "Gilligan's Island," Russell Johnson starred with future president Ronald Reagan In 1953's western "Law and Order." Johnson played the role of Jimmy Johnson, Reagan's brother In the film distributed by Universal-International studios. 'Actor Russell Johnson had many 1 but none more prominent than the one on "Gilligan's Island." By SHERRY LONG slotigtmusleader.com SHLEY With so many area universities and colleg es, there are a lot of professors in Luzerne County. Jut do you know who the most famous professor is? Russell Johnson of Ashley. Well, he's not really a professor.

But he did play one pretty convincingly on television for three seasons as "Professor Roy Hinkley Jr." on "Gilligan's Island" from 1964 to 1967. Johnson said he initially thought the Professor was just another character to play when he was first cast in the part. Little did he and other cast members know the show would eventually become a cult classic. And 40 years after the show left prime-time, Johnson is still best known for his "Professor" role. He admits that after the show was cancelled by CBS executives, his association with the character made it difficult to find other work.

But eventually, he said, he realized just what an honor that role was. In the years since the show has aired in re-runs and syndication, Johnson said, The Professor has inspired children to learn more about science. Tve had many people say their interest in science was sparked by the show whether they be doctors or scientists," Johnson said. "It is always a wonderful thing to hear." Hometown roots Although his character hailed from Cleveland and earned six college degrees, Johnson had a more modest and patriotic background The oldest of five children, he was born to Russell Kennedy Johnson and Marian Wyonna Smink on Nov. 10, 1924 in Ashley.

Johnson attended school locally at the Ashley Public School through third grade, until a tragedy struck the family. In 1932 his father, the family breadwinner as a nighttime railroad police officer, died of pneumonia. Two years later he and his two brothers, Kenneth and David, were sent to Girard College, a boarding school, in Philadelphia. "In my day it was for poor white (male) orphans," he said recently in a phone interview. Today it includes girls and A -A.

JJU Guinea to bomb a Japanese airstrip base in the Philippines while flying only 100 feet off the ground. He recalled flying the same mission several times before, but said the Japanese had gotten better at hitting their targets. "We ended up in the ocean. We were shot up a bit. Our radio operator was killed," Johnson said.

After sending out a Mayday, he and his crew were picked up by the Army Sea Rescue before being transported back to a military tent hospital in New Guinea. Johnson broke both ankles after the plane hit the water. He spoke of the injuries, which earned him several medals, as just part of a normal day's work. "We were just like everybody else -just doing our job," he said "We are just fortunate enough to be here today." He was awarded the Bronze Star, Air Medal with Oak Leaf Cluster, Purple Heart, good conduct medal, Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal with three service stars, Philippine Liberation Ribbon with one service star and the World War II Victory Medal with Honorable Service Lapel button for his military service. He returned to the United States on a ship, passing under the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco in August 1945.

Acting Jobs start In 1949 After being discharged that November (1945), Johnson took acting lessons at the Actors Laboratory in Hollywood for three years using money from theGIBilL He also has two sisters, Marian and Lorraine, who live in New York state. The brothers came home in the summer and 10 days at Christmas to visit family and friends. Johnson recalled the many times he and his good friend, Warren Williamson, walked three miles to Wilkes-Barre just to attend the movies or go to the Planters Store. "It was not much, but it was our life and our time," Johnson said "I carry great memories with me." Military service After graduating from Girard in January 1942, Johnson said he desperately wanted to enlist in the military to fulfill his life-long dream of becoming a pilot to perform his patriotic duty, but had to wait until his 18th birthday in November. "The world was at war.

This country was 100 percent committed to the war," Johnson said. "It was a completely different world" He said when people turned 18 if they weren't being drafted they were signing up to enlist. After joining the US. Army Air Corps as an enlisted private, he was stationed in Sioux Falls, S.D., where he studied at a radio and mechanic school He soon applied to become an aviation cadet with the Corps and was eventually sent to Santa Ana, to train as an aviator. Johnson was commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant on Jan.

15, 1944. After flying several missions in a B-25 twin-engine bomber over the Pacific, Johnson and his crew were injured in March 1945 during their 44th mission. They had orders to fly out of New Sm CONNOR Pagt 6B.