Saitta talks SDPC budget

Dear Editor,

I voted against the School District of Pickens County budget for 2016-17 for three reasons.

This budget again eliminates classroom teaching positions, boosting class sizes. A total of 65 classroom teachers have now been eliminated over three years. As families break down further, and some children become more difficult to teach, the board should be reducing class sizes, not making them larger.

In good economic times, when revenue is growing, the board should be putting money aside. Thus, when the bad economic times hit, the district will have a savings nest egg to fall back on to cope with falling revenue, and it will not have to cut spending as much. This budget runs savings down $1.7 million in good economic times, so little savings (if any) will be available when the next recession hits.

There are a variety of extra pay raises in the budget. It is well intentioned — I support most of them, but too many are being done at one time. It is like with the extra teacher pay raises. I thought it was a good idea to phase them in over a few years, as was originally proposed. However, I opposed the last minute change to give three teacher pay raises in one year, because it threw the current budget into deficit and caused more of a drawdown in savings.

You can see the stress the aggressive spending plan is causing. Look at the actions taken to try and make it all work — closing schools, eliminating teachers and raising tax rates (1.5 mils) on the borrowing side. None of that the public supports.

Alex Saitta

School board trustee Pickens

A letter to America

Dear Editor,

America continues to display the foolishness of man by trusting in man rather than God the Creator. Many now foolishly claim that science proved there is no God. That of course, is man’s lie.

Ironically, God’s truth is questioned by man, who God formed from “the dust of the ground.”

According to the word of God, before God created time, he “created heaven and earth.” And Earth was void (no life), completely covered by water, it was dark, “And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”

And then God lit up the sun when he “said, let there be light: and there was light.” That was the beginning of time, the first day.

Then in the next five days, God separated the waters, made about 70 percent of the earth surface rise above water, ordered earth to produce all sorts of grasses, herbs, flowers, fruit trees. Then “God, out of the ground, formed every beast,” and every fowl. On the sixth day of creation, he formed Adam (the first man) from the dust of the ground and gave him life.

Then “God said, It is not good that the man should be alone.” So God put Adam to sleep, removed one of his ribs, and from that rib, formed the first woman, Eve, for Adam’s wife. And we thank the LORD for that.

God saw that his creation was good. Unfortunately, a few thousand years later, man became very wicked and every imagination in man’s heart was evil. This “grieved Him (God) at his heart” and He “Said, I will Destroy man” and “every living thing.”

But because God found Noah righteous, God gave his living creation a second chance. He had Noah and his family build the ark (a very large ship) to keep them and the animals safe during the “great flood” so they would “replenish the earth,” as God commanded them

Now Noah’s descendants are denying God’s word and denying that God created the heavens and earth and every living thing, including man. But God has said, He created everything that was created, and He rightfully claims he owns everything. Including you and me. It is time we give God his deserving glory. Glory be to God.

Manuel Ybarra Jr.

Coalgate, Okla.

My cousin Gwynne was waiting for me in front of the Hertz Rental Car counter in the Ft. Lauderdale airport. She’d flown in earlier, as we couldn’t work out flights that arrived at the same time.

We were meeting our cousins Scott and Elizabeth in Coconut Grove and were all heading to our cousin Becky’s 50th wedding anniversary celebration.

Gwynne lives in McMinnville, Tenn., and had rolled out of bed at 3 a.m. to drive to Chattanooga and catch a flight to Charlotte. She changed planes there and got to Ft. Lauderdale after lunch with no time or opportunity to eat. She did have three pretzels on the plane. I’d driven to Charlotte that morning, caught a flight to Atlanta, changed planes there and arrived in Ft. Lauderdale at 4 p.m. with only the plane pretzels keeping me going.

Liz and Scott had snagged a direct flight from Greensboro. Of course they had to fly out at 6:30 a.m., so they were safely checked in to the hotel before we arrived.

We were supposed to be at Becky and Tom’s house for supper at seven and were afraid to take time to eat. So we picked up our rental car and loaded up to begin the 32-mile drive to Coconut Grove. Neither of us had ever been there, but we were confident we’d have no trouble as soon as we figured out how to get out of the airport.

We knew we were going south on I-95 — we had a map and Gwynne had a GPS. No worries. We made it safely to I-95 and chose the center lane. We’d been happily making progress when we suddenly had to move into the left lane to avoid exiting to a place we didn’t want to go.

That was when we realized that the side mirror on the car was mashed tightly against the car and was completely useless. I found the little control button on the door and tried to adjust the thing, but it ignored all my attempts, so Gwynne would watch for me and tell me when we could get over.

Not ideal, but it worked. We merrily made our way along the highway when suddenly the traffic slowed to a crawl. We’d hit rush hour, and it was bumper-to-bumper. Oh well. We waited for the traffic to thin out. It didn’t, but we picked up speed. In order to keep up with the flow, we had to go a lot faster than felt safe, but we did it.

We checked the tiny map we’d picked up at the airport, and theoretically we weren’t far from Coconut Grove, but apparently there was no way to get on the road from where we were.

So we called Liz. At least Gwynne called Liz, but it went to voicemail. So then Gwynne called the hotel and talked to the desk clerk for directions.

He apparently thought Gwynne was difficult to understand, as she had to repeat herself a number of times before he understood our problem. She thought the same about him.

He gave us directions to Coconut Grove, but after Gwynne called him the third time, we realized he was giving directions from the Miami Airport, not the Ft. Lauderdale Airport.

We were on our own. We backtracked, got back on the highway and went in the opposite direction. Finally, we saw a sign that said, “Welcome to Coconut Grove.” We were on Brickel Avenue and kept going, thinking we would eventually hit the ocean and find Bay Shore drive, the street our hotel was located on.

Nothing doing. We drove very slowly, looking for something promising. By now it was 6 o’clock and we were losing hope. Suddenly we saw an older lady who looked respectable strolling along the street.

I pulled over, Gwynne rolled down the window and told her we were lost and asked for directions.

The lady said, “You’re not that far. All you have to do is go straight down this street, take a right, take another right and drive until you come to a really ugly intersection. Take a slight right there, not a hard right, and you will run into Bayshore.”

We thanked her, followed her directions and began looking for a really ugly intersection. As we approached each intersection, Gwynne would say, “Do you think that’s a really ugly intersection?”

I’d say, “I don’t know. Ugly as compared to what, I wonder?”

Finally, we came to an intersection that wasn’t particularly ugly, but it did have a hard right and a slight right, and sure enough we found Bayshore Drive. Three blocks later, we saw our hotel.

It was 6:30, but Liz and Scott had patiently waited for us, so although we couldn’t shower as we’d hoped, we did get to change clothes. We made it a little late, but they were glad to see us, dirty and almost hysterical with exhaustion though we were. The cheese plate and wine before supper helped a lot.

And then, as always, we had a wonderful time. So despite the few hitches along the way, it was well worth it.

Has this ever happened to you? The car keys go missing, you can’t retrieve a once-familiar name or you’ve forgotten a phone number. You walk into a room with a purpose and then forget why.

In many ways, our memories shape who we are. They make up our internal biographies — the stories we tell ourselves about what we’ve done with our lives. They tell us who we’re connected to, who we’ve touched during our lives and who has touched us. In short, our memories are crucial to the essence of who we are as human beings.

Age-related memory loss, then, can represent a loss of self. It also affects the practical side of life. Forgetting how to get from your house to the grocery store, how to do everyday tasks, or how you are connected to family members, friends and other people can mean your ability to live independently. It is therefore no surprise, then, that declining thinking and memory skills rank among the top fears people have as they age.

We know that the ability to remember can fade with age. Many of these changes are normal, and not a sign of dementia. In fact, sometimes what people experience as a memory problem is really a “not-paying-attention” problem.

Statistically, only about 10 percent of the population develop dementia at some point in their lives. The possibility does increase with age and is common in very elderly individuals. However, it is not a normal part of the aging process.

What is common as people age is that the speed at which information can be retrieved on demand is slowed. Through most of our life, we had a wonderful gift. Information was retrieved instantly. As we age, we may lose a word that will be retained again, only not as quickly as when we were young. There are many causes for memory lapses. Here is a partial list:

The primary difference between age-related memory loss and dementia is that the former is not disabling. The memory lapses have little impact on your daily performance and ability to do what you want to do. Dementia, on the other hand, is marked by a persistent, disabling decline in two or more intellectual abilities, such as memory, language, judgment and abstract thinking.

Remember, only approximately 10 percent of our population ever experience dementia. Most of us experience normal, age-related memory loss.

Bonnie Holmes is president of Loving Health Care Inc. Although the well-qualified caregivers care for clients with many different types of needs, the specialty of the company is clients with dementia. For more information, call (864) 916-9204.

What a Story

Dear Editor,

Once, a long time ago, there was a country being formed from 13 colonies that would become the world’s greatest nation.

In those days, the men wore three-cornered hats, silver buckles on their shoes and knee britches. Called themselves The Sons of Liberty, while England’s ol’ King George simply called them those low-down sons of … weeellll do you remember reading about back in 1776 when the colonies were on the march to freedom, laying down a lot of hot licks?! “You’ll pay my tea tax,” said ol’ King George! “Not so,” said they! “We ain’t gonna pay, no sirree!”

Well they fought the British on the left and on the right. Fought in the day and in the night. “One if by land, two if by sea, and I in the old North Church will be.”

They yearned to be free. Liberty or death, no more no less, as the king and his subjects would soon see.

Lexington, Concord, Cowpens, Bunker Hill and the rest. They gave their best.

Some gave their lives — “no greater love hath any man.”

All for our great land!

Later we would have the Emancipation Proclamation and the rejoining of our divided nation.

World War I followed by World War II, along with Prohibition and the Great Depression .

The start of the atomic age with the dropping of the atomic bomb. Korea, the marching for civil rights in Birmingham, Nam, Kent State, Desert Storm, 9/11 and still we stand this great land that began so long ago in 1776, when a mere 13 colonies rebelled. Red, white and blue. Yellow, red, black and white, too.

All of the races contributing. That’s me and you.

Never take your freedom for granted, for freedom isn’t free. Many paid the ultimate fee. For them, raise your voices and yell “We will never forget! Because of you, we are truly free!”

What a great story written in the pages of history of the greatest nation that began when 13 colonies rebelled oh so long ago in 1776.

P.S. Happy 4th!

Eddie Boggs

Westminster

Encourage Alzheimer’s funding

Dear Editor,

At a cost of $236 billion a year, Alzheimer’s is the most expensive disease in the nation. Nearly one in every five Medicare dollars is spent on people with Alzheimer’s or another dementia. And these costs will only continue to increase as baby boomers age, soaring to more than $1 trillion in 2050.

Alzheimer’s disease is the sixth-leading cause of death in the United States and the only cause of death among the top 10 in the U.S. that cannot be prevented, cured or even slowed. Today, more than 5.4 million Americans are living with Alzheimer’s. And, barring the development of medical breakthroughs to prevent, stop or slow Alzheimer’s disease by 2050, the number of people age 65 and older with Alzheimer’s disease may reach as high as 16 million people.

Alzheimer’s disease is a growing crisis for our families and the economy. The federal government must address the challenges the disease poses and take bold action to confront this epidemic now.

I lost my father to Lewy Body Dementia in November 2010, only three short months after initial diagnosis. He was only 72 years old. There are 130,000 more Georgians suffering with Alzheimer’s and dementia and more than 500,000 more caregivers just like me. The time to act is now.

Please contact your local representatives and ask them to continue the fight against Alzheimer’s disease by increasing funding for Alzheimer’s research by at least an additional $400 million in fiscal year 2017.

Caroline Smith

Alzheimer’s Association

Georgia Chapter Advocate

When we were children, summer meant a lot of different things to us. Long days of freedom, the river, the woods and the many errands thought up by the adults to lighten their load and keep us occupied. And there was also a bounty of good things to eat. Things you couldn’t get for love or money the rest of the year.

It was always a big day when the field peas started coming in. We had Dixie Lee Field Peas, and once they began it seemed there was no end.

Looking back, there was a lot of time spent companionably on the front porch, shelling and snapping. Dixie Lees are the field peas that are a somewhat smaller version of the black-eyed pea, but the flavor is a little different and the ones that aren’t filled out enough to shell are snapped up and put into the pot with the peas to cook.

We always ate them as Hopping John, a simple dish of peas served over fluffy white rice. It was a staple of the summer table and accompanied by sliced ripe tomatoes — there is nothing this side of heaven to compare.

There are two kinds of peas grown on Fowler Farm, Red Rippers, an heirloom pea, and Dixie Lees. They’re classified in most seed catalogs as cowpeas. At least, they used to be.

And when we first began planting them years ago, they weren’t that hard to locate. But that was then.

One by one, seed suppliers stopped carrying the seed. For some time, we’d order them from a seed supplier in Richmond, Va. But last year that company dropped them, too.

I suppose there’s not enough of a demand any more, as fewer and fewer people farm.

Thank goodness for the internet. I searched and searched and finally found a farm supply company in East Texas that carries them.

I called and talked to the nicest man. He told me that the ranchers they supply plant hundreds of acres of the pea and harvest them as cattle feed. I suppose this is why they are classified as a cowpea.

We only needed a couple of pounds, but he explained that the smallest amount they shipped was a five-pound bag. We could order a 50-pound bag, which I suppose would plant several acres.

So I put in an order for a five-pound bag, and he said they’d ship them out. But when I asked how he’d like me to pay, he surprised me.

“Y’all can just mail us a check after it comes. We’ll stick the bill inside.”

I didn’t think there was anyplace left on earth that did business this way, and it was a good feeling to know there is still some trust in the world.

So when the seeds came in the mail a few days later, I immediately filled out a check and sent it off. The shipping bill was as much as the cost of the seed, but well worth the expense.

So now we know what to do when we run out of seed. And as long as we can grow food, we’ll have plenty of peas for the freezer.

Someday I’d like to go out to East Texas and meet these folks at this feed and seed store. I think they must be pretty nice people.

This morning I ate a bowl of Cheerios with delicious sliced peaches on top. We are enjoying some of the best peaches I’ve ever tasted, and we didn’t buy them or grow them.

Well, you may ask, where did they come from?

These peaches came from the magic tree.

Our Merritt corn has been coming in this week, and it’s been a very busy time. We’ve put corn in the freezer and sold a lot. So there have been many trips back and forth to the garden. Two days ago I was standing by the chicken pen and noticed a tree near the pen full of small peaches. They were ripe. So we picked one, and I tasted it expecting it to be bitter. But it wasn’t. It was absolutely delicious.

We go that way often and have never noticed this tree. After all, there are a lot of trees out there.

But somehow with no help from human hands, a peach tree has appeared out of nowhere and is full of wonderful peaches.

We grow blueberries, figs, grapes and blackberries and have one old pear tree. But we’ve never been successful in trying to grow peaches. So we always buy them during the summer. It’s nothing short of a miracle to discover the existence of this tree.

There’s a covered metal bucket in the kitchen we put vegetable and fruit scraps into. When it’s full, it’s taken out to the chicken pen and thrown out for them to enjoy.

The only explanation for the appearance of this tree we can come up with is that at some point in time years ago when a bucket of peach peelings and pits were thrown into the chicken pen, one of the pits must have gone through the wire and somehow planted itself.

Then, with no care, no fertilizer, no insect spray and through drought and flood, this tree not only survived, it thrived.

When I think of the hard work involved in growing produce — the plowing, planting, weeding, cultivating, thinning, spraying and picking — it is amazing to know this little peach tree made it on its own.

Now that we know it’s here, we will care for it. Next year we’ll see what happens after a year of loving care.

As it has thrived on neglect, it will be interesting to see if care makes it better or kills it.

Humans always think they are in control of things. Grandmama was a collector of quotable quotes. One of her favorites was, “Man proposes, but God disposes.”

Recognizing a fallen hero

Dear Editor,

A number of people gave some. However, some gave all.

The Memorial Day memories touch my heart, when the dedicated men and women serving in the armed forces get recognition. That’s never adequate considering how we get protection for our country.

The hero I wish to recognize is Sgt. Jerry H. Williams — a Pickens native, and son of Hiott and Verna Williams. Jerry died on the battlefield in Vietnam June 24, 1966.

He had a wife, Irmgard, and children, Michael, David, and Sandy, who were deprived of companionship with Jerry. Their ages were 6, 4 and 1. The cost being so great it cannot be counted. He is remembered daily by family members, sister Margaret and brother Wallace.

The years have passed, now being the 50th anniversary of Jerry’s death. Let us never forget all who served.

Margaret W. Cassell

Pickens

Well, I never

Dear Editor,

Well, I never. We won’t be able to come out of church on Sunday without sitting beside a drinker in a restaurant.

We shouldn’t be able to come out of church and go to a restaurant. We are remembering the Sabbath to be somewhat holy.

And Larry, it’s God. The man upstairs is named God.

Chris Nicholson

Easley

What next, America?

Dear Editor,

Now that we have our presidential candidates for the upcoming election, what do we hope for? A few months ago I wrote a letter about hope. The question is still there.

Regardless of who our next president is, will it change anything? I fear and am assured it will not, due to the sinful nature we have become. We just experienced the tragedy in Orlando and will experience more of that type of violence in our nation.

We have left our first love and are doing that which pleases each of us, just as the holy scriptures have predicted. We will return to worshipping God and serving him, or we will continue to reject that which God has commanded.

God established laws and covenants with his chosen people. In Deuteronomy 28 and Leviticus 26, God tells of the blessings we will receive if we are obedient and also of the curses which will be upon us for our disobedience.

Look at what is happening in our nation. Our forefathers founded this nation using Judeo-Christian values and through prayer to the God in heaven who created all things for his purpose and good pleasure.

He stated that everything was good. He created man in his own image, which is spiritual. He gave man certain commandments and laws. He also gave man the ability to choose right from wrong. His commandment about eating fruit from one tree in the Garden of Eden man disobeyed, and sin entered into the world. As a result, each of us is conceived in sin.

Man’s sin thus required a sacrifice for our sin. This sacrifice was to be a blood sacrifice. In the Old Testament, this was the killing of animals, which was repeated over and over. When Jesus Christ came (the one and only son of God) the ultimate sacrifice, shed his blood on the cross of Calvary, the sin debt was paid for eternity. Each of us has to choose to accept or reject this atonement.

Those who repent of their sins and ask for forgiveness become the children of God. Those who do not repent and receive this forgiveness are still the children or servants of the devil. Which condition are you?

In Joshua 24:15, Joshua told the children of Israel: “Choose you this day whom you will serve.” He then stated: “but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” This is what I have chosen. I pray that you, too, have made that decision.

Max Wilson

Pickens

Right now, according to a report on CBS News, there are 700,000 people in our country on the terrorist watch list. They aren’t allowed to fly, but they are allowed to buy an AR-15 assault weapon, the weapon of choice for mass murderers.

This past weekend, 50 people were slaughtered in a night club in Orlando with an AR-15. The shooter is linked to ISIS and was under suspicion by the FBI.

The AR-15 was one of the guns used to kill 14 people in San Bernardino, Calif. It was the weapon used to kill nine people at Umpqua Community College in Oregon.

It was the weapon used in the slaughter of 12 people at a Colorado movie theater in 2012.

And in 2012, 20 first graders and six adults in Newtown, Conn., were shot down with an AR-15.

The assault weapon ban instated in 1994 lapsed in 2003. Although numerous attempts have been made in the past 13 years to reinstate the ban, time after time the bills have been defeated in Congress.

Colt, one of the makers of this weapon, describes it as being manufactured for our armed forces.

So why is it on the streets and readily available to anyone?

The National Rifle Association spends millions lobbying Congress to defeat any bill that increases public safety in the United States, according to a 2014 report from the Pulitzer Prize-winning Center for Public Integrity.

In the first three months of 2014, the NRA spent $800,000 lobbying Congress to oppose any form of gun control. And it was successful. Below is a list of proposed legislation that was defeated.

• H.R. 751, the Protect America’s Schools Act of 2013

• H.R. 274, the Mental Health First Act of 2013

• H.R. 329, the Strengthening Background Checks Act of 2013

• H.R. 575, the Second Amendment Protection Act of 2013

• S. 54, the Stop Illegal Trafficking in Firearms Act of 2013

• S. 374, the Fix Gun Checks Act of 2013

• S. 146, the School and Campus Safety Enhancements Act of 2013

• S. 174, the Ammunition Background Check Act of 2013

• S. 480, the NICS Reporting Improvement Act of 2013

• H.R. 138 and S. 33, the Large Capacity Ammunition Feeding Device Act

• H.R. 142 and S. 35, the Stop Online Ammunition Sales Act of 2013

• H.R. 437 and S. 150, the Assault Weapons Ban of 2013

According to a report from PBS, our own senator and Pickens County native Lindsey Graham also opposes the ban on assault weapons and expanded background checks, but he does think the mentally ill should not be allowed to buy them.

Approximately 75 percent of Americans polled want assault weapons off the streets.

I would be very surprised to see any sensible legislation to keep assault weapons out of the hands of terrorists pass unless the public could form a public interest lobbying group that could exceed the millions of dollars the NRA uses to control votes on public safety issues.

It is also doubtful that any campaign finance reform act would pass. In other words, as long as the votes of some members of Congress are bought and paid for the public must rely on a miracle for meaningful change, and there is no school, church, restaurant, movie theater or club that is safe.

Now I lay me down to die

Dear Editor,

Three thousand four hundred abortions in America a day. With that in mind, I wrote the following.

Now I lay me down to die, no one will ever hear my silent cry. Now I lay me down to die.

Never asked to be conceived, America you have been so greatly deceived. Told I’m only a fetus, not human like you. Never will lay my precious head upon my mother’s breast. Never feel her warm loving arms around me or her gentle caress. My little ears never hear her sweet voice sing me to sleep with a lullaby. Never speak my first word, take my first step, laugh or with my sweet little face smile, coo or sigh. Now I lay me down to die, no one will ever hear my silent cry. now I lay me down to die.

Today it’s me, tomorrow the mentally challenged, physically impaired, elderly or perhaps even you.

Now I lay me down to die, no one will ever hear my silent cry. Now I lay me down to die. Now I lay me down to die.

Wake up and scream bloody murder, America!

Eddie Boggs

Westminster

I’m in Arkansas getting an education — in what, I don’t know. Brooke and Andrew are technology-savvy. They were born knowing how to control the world by hitting a few buttons. It’s my fervent wish that their brains will not be short-circuited through intensive computer knowhow.

They are 8 and 10 now and have grown by leaps and bounds since last summer. As a niece and nephew go, they are the best.

Their card skills have also developed in a year. They have mastered Crazy Eight and play for blood. I only win every now and then, and I’m not letting down my side either. I’m trying.

We still play War, but they have added Blackjack to their repertoire, as they wanted to learn a gambling game. Brooke pulled out the poker chips, and we divided them up and had a few practice hands.

They know how to bet, stay, raise, call and fold. They know what it means to be busted. When they want another card, they tell the dealer, “Hit me.”

When their Poppa comes at the end of this week, he will be so pleased. Poker paid his college tuition his junior and senior year, plus what he made in the summer scouting cotton.

It was interesting to see how they bet. Brooke is a risk taker. She will put more on an uncertain hand. Andrew will fold if he thinks he can’t make it.

However, he’ll bet the farm if he has a solid hand and then we fold.

Brooke wants to win, as does he. He will get discouraged if he thinks he’s going to run out of money.

I was amazed at how quickly they can add up the cards. And these are people who just a couple of years ago couldn’t tell a spade from a club.

Now that they have mastered Blackjack, we are working on Gin Rummy. We’re taking it a little bit at a time, as it’s just a bit more complicated. There’s an awful lot to remember. Frankly, their memories are a bit sharper than mine.

Also, I’m ready for bed before they are.

The energy level they are able to maintain is unbelievable.

If we were like cellphones and could see how much juice is left to operate on, theirs would have 95 percent as the lowest level, while mine would show minus-10.

We’ve been hiking, swimming, played putt putt, cooked homemade French fries and baked a three-layer chocolate cake. I considered reading in bed last night, but that’s as far as it got.

It’s turning out to be a wonderful visit. I’ll really miss their bright little faces and busy brains when I go home. Children are a special gift, and I hope I never take them for granted.