Tuesday, November 11, 2008
The missed opportunity
The request was prompted by picketing at the office of the Terrell Tribune, a paper that allegedly led with national stories from the wire in advance then downplayed the national election results on Election Day. I wasn't there. I don't know what pressures Bill and his staff faced that day so I won't comment on that situation.
Besides, that's not what disappoints. What disappoints is that it appears Texas publishers missed a huge opportunity in this election.
This was an historic event, one of the biggest, easiest-to-cover stories of the decade. Everyone in our communities talked about it and everyone had an opinion, regardless of who they voted for or why. To dismiss an event of this significance simply because we had to use a little imagination to tie it to our own back yards or because Tuesdays are a little tough is selling our readers — and ourselves — short.
As many of you know, I edited and published weekly and small daily newspapers in Texas for the better part of two decades. I found that my readers really appreciated local coverage of large state and national issues like pubic school finance, immigration reform and congressional redistricting. The argument of "it didn't happen here" doesn't hold because these issues have an impact on everyone in our communities and, in some cases, a profound impact.
Agreed, had I been publishing a newspaper this cycle, my advance coverage would have been focused on the local elections because our readers could get that news nowhere else. But, by the same token, neither could our readers get news of the local reaction to the results of the national election anywhere else.
To not mention this election and the local reaction to it in a prominent fashion is, in my opinion, the same as if we had completely ignored the events of 9/11. How many of us tore up our front page that Tuesday morning and devoted the rest of that day to covering the local reaction to jets crashing into the World Trade Center? We did in Cameron and, from the standpoint of local color, it was probably one of the best front pages that year. Plus, it sold out on the racks.
Instead of taking the easy way out (“It ain’t local so we don’t pay attention”), why not have prepared some sort of local reaction piece to this historic event?
One of our most under-served market segments, the “minority” community, probably voted in record numbers so they could vote for the first black man to be nominated for president atop a national party, even though they knew their vote wouldn't really make a difference to the Texas electoral vote. Isn’t that a story? Isn’t that a local hook?
And, frankly, that’s part of where this controversy — and opportunity —comes from. Our newspapers, especially those papers serving our more rural areas, serve a dwindling elite. That elite is largely white. Despite years of effort at racial diversification (often halfhearted effort), the people running and working in those newspapers are also largely white. The advertisers who support those newspapers — also likely white — probably don't care that much about our minority communities, though they should because we've all seen the demographic projections.
In Texas (and in this country) our white population is shrinking while our minority populations are growing. At the same time, we're all terrified at how long it might take for the rot of declining circulation and declining ad revenues afflicting the metro papers to trickle down to our Texas towns. To survive, we'll have to reach out to everyone in our communities, not just the elite.
If no one else, minorities in our communities watched this election closely ... and too many of our community newspapers discounted them and this elections' importance by giving it little or no coverage. Really, that’s a shame.
Texas publishers missed a huge opportunity.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Did Alcoa really benefit Milam County?
However, not everything that company did was beneficial. Defining a company's legacy in strictly economic terms often overlooks less tangible costs.
Yes. Many Milam County residents earned good money working in the smelter and a lot of locals owe their moderately comfortable retirement checks to Alcoa. But, an unusually high percentage of them were exposed to toxic levels of asbestos and other poisons, and many of those have contracted fatal lung cancer — despite the fact that Alcoa knew in the early 1950s that asbestos exposure could have all sorts of ugly side effects.
I'll also grant that the presence of Alcoa had a positive impact on our tax base and, without that tax revenue, some of our governments will have trouble providing essential services. On the other hand, for the vast majority of those 50 years in Milam County, Alcoa polluted our land, our water and our air. Our children will pay those environmental costs, whatever they turn out to be.
And, sure ... Alcoa spent a lot of money on parks, grants, athletic fields, schools and what have you. By some standards, they poured a small fortune into Milam County. But, they also made a lot of money. Make no mistake, the money they handed out (and paid out in the form of salaries and taxes) was a pittance compared to the amount of money they made off their Rockdale operations.
In the end, Alcoa showed its true nature — as big companies like this will do. Under the cover of a spat with Luminant (the company they sold their generating capacity to) and a national economy in flames, they simply abandoned a community that had been its faithful partner for over 50 years.
I wonder who got the best of that deal? I'll lay odds that it wasn't us.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
The Ragged Edge: Despite absence, teaching continues
One of my earliest clear memories of my father is of the time I decided, in first grade, that I didn't need to go to school.
I walked to school every morning - I know I'm dating myself when I say that I grew up in a time when a first-grader could safely walk to school but there it is - and just decided to stop and play behind the railroad tracks that ran between our house and the school. That's where Dad found me.
He was probably frustrated with his first-born and likely scared to death but I don't remember him being too angry or upset. We spent the rest of the day at his office where I played with the memo graph machine (one of my favorite pieces of old office equipment) and generally made a nuisance of myself trying to help him put out the church bulletin.
I don't know how I came to the erroneous conclusion that I didn't need to go to school. Skipping school was not really an option for other first-graders but I don't remember much cognitive dissonance over the event. Since I wasn't really a model student but was given to daydreaming and inattention to my schoolwork, I suspect I avoided school that morning out of a dread about my grades. In fact, I remember a very serious conversation with Mrs. Sessions, my principal, after that. She attended the church where my Dad preached and I think lived down the street from us. She was a nice woman but that visit was scary and I stopped having trouble with my grades.
But while that is the only clear memory of Mrs. Sessions, it is one of many I have of my father. Like how he tried to keep 20 or 30-cents in his pockets on Sunday mornings.
After church services were over, Dad waited in the Narthex to speak with members of the congregation as they exited. My brothers and I always showed up for money for the soda machine. We were sorely agitated those Sunday mornings when he forgot. I know he was often annoyed with us because we could be pretty bratty.
We drank Grape Nehi. Well, sometimes my younger brother would drink Orange Nehi but he was a nonconformist. I'd drink Orange only if the machine was out of Grape. Later, that particular brother rooted for the Redskins and the Vikings while the rest of us rooted for the Cowboys. I think he did it on purpose. He's still sort of contrary that way.
Dad was usually pretty tolerant of our mischief, until we got in the car. He tried very hard to be patient with us but he had three sons, four years apart and he and Mom liked to Go Places. Like Harlingen and Odessa and Kingsville and Shreveport and St. Louis.
We didn't make it very easy for him and he occasionally lost his cool when we sat in the back seat and taunted each other mile after mile after mile (Are we there yet? Stop touching me!).
I've been thinking about my Dad for the last couple of weeks. I now realize that I should have paid more attention to my memories of him. I'd have been a lot better prepared for my own children. As it is, I've recalled these memories a bit late. My oldest children already think they are adult and that teenage girl is generally hopeless (alas, she already loves puns).
But, it demonstrates that your parents have a lot to teach you, even when they re no longer around.
Monday, Jan. 31 was the second anniversary of his death. Last Friday, I took a detour coming home from Sealy so I could visit his grave in that little Czech cemetery near Dime Box. It's kind of odd - but not at all wrong - to see his strong Saxon name mixed in with the Kovars and the Mareks and the Hrnicrs. He spent nearly 20 years ministering to some of those people and that's where he wanted us to bury him so we did.
It's a pretty site, on the top of a low hill near the church. Even when the winter leaches all colors but brown out of the landscape, there's a beauty to that hillside.
He still has much to teach me, even though he's gone.
I miss him.
Monday, January 2, 2006
EDITORIAL: It's time to fix how we pay for schools
Last week, John Sharp told Texas newspaper publishers that the problem of school funding is so complicated by interest groups who want to reform the way we educate our children along with the way we pay for it, the effort is as pointless as "watching a cock fight while a nuclear war is going on outside."
That analogy is quite apt.
The Supreme Court recently found that the way we pay for our school system is unconstitutional because it amounts to a statewide property tax. The court didn't order the Legislature to consider vouchers or to increase per student spending. It didn't really speak to how Texas educates its students or what it teaches them. It said that the way we pay for public education is unconstitutional and ordered the Legislature to fix it. By June 1. Or else.
The Legislature must stop worrying about the peripheral issues and make the school finance infrastructure constitutional. Those peripheral issues - vouchers on one hand and increased per student spending on the other - cannot be addressed until this state overhauls the tax code and reduces its dependence on property tax.
But the folks who want to use tax reform as a springboard to education reform muck up the works and make it impossible for the Legislature to accomplish anything regarding tax reform. Several failed special sessions and two regular sessions attest to this failure. We must save those battles for after we put a constitutional tax system in place.
Sharp pointed out that our tax code worked pretty well in the late 1950s and early 1960s but it is completely inadequate to the task of keeping up with our global economy and high stakes development. That's why, aside from the court mandated deadline, it's critical that the Legislature develop a tax code that is fair, makes sense, promotes our economy and doesn't balance that budget on the backs of our senior citizens, shrinking middle class and chronically poor.
Further, that deadline is important. Should the Legislature fail to come up with a constitutional plan, the court could shut off state money to the schools and do it in June. Sharp noted that, since she is locked in a bitter election campaign with Gov. Perry, Carole Strayhorn, the current Texas Comptroller, would very likely cooperate with that court order and that would create incredible havoc.
Now, the Legislature could duck the whole issue. It could put another band aide on the problem (like redistribution, the so-called "Robin Hood" plan) by throwing enough money at the problem that the court looks the other way for a couple of months.
But, that's not going to solve anything. That's not doing the job we hired them to do. Indeed, that approach guarantees continued ideological strife, taxpayer stress, expensive special Legislative sessions and legal battles.
That's not good public policy. It's not good tax policy.
The Legislature must divide the issue of how we pay for education from all the other issues, then take the deadline imposed by the Texas Supreme Court seriously.
"Don't let them do it half-way," Sharp urged. "Make them stick to this deadline."
It's past time for our leaders in Austin to quit squabbling like a bunch of spoiled 5 year olds and show some backbone and leadership.
This article was published Jan. 2, 2006 as an editorial by The Cameron Herald
Thursday, September 1, 2005
The man behind the camera loved to tell stories
Mike Peck, The Camera Guy: December 16, 1956-August 30, 2005
by Richard & Tia Rae Stone
Note:
Whether via photographs or words, Mike Peck was a storyteller. The 48-year-old managing editor of The Cameron Herald believed strongly that his place was behind the camera and the pen, so it was only his wonderful habit of sharing his stories that enabled us to write this story. His story.
"I learned to tell stories in West Cameron," he said once. "When I was a kid, I'd go over there and sit and listen to the old men tell their stories. They told wonderful stories that I could listen to forever."
Mike parlayed that experience into a career chronicling the life of this town for The Cameron Herald. The good, the bad, the indifferent, the ducks and the giant cucumbers - it didn't matter, all eventually made their way in front of Mike's camera or earned a spot as the subject of one of his stories.
That career lasted 32 years. He died Tuesday morning at his home in Cameron after suffering a stroke.
"I love this job. I can't imagine doing anything else," Mike said with a grin after midnight one Wednesday morning. Those long weeks and late nights were just part of his job. But, it didn't really matter to Mike. "What other job lets you go to a football game one minute and then to see (British Prime Minister) Tony Blair the next?" he said. "It's about the high you get when you're working on something that might actually make people think. That's more powerful than money."
Even so, Mike wasn't without a sense of gallows humor regarding this job. "Another day in the box," he'd say, sometimes cheerfully, occasionally factiously.
But that box often galled him.
He believed that Cameron's story needed to be told accurately and thoroughly. And, he knew when a story or column he was writing would anger or frustrate someone. He even knew when a story might hurt someone. And, he would write and re-write and agonize over it. But it didn't stop him from telling the story and it never stopped him from telling the truth.
"I'm not sure many people understand what that meant to him," said childhood friend and former C.H. Yoe High head football coach Randy Sapp. "He went through a lot [of personal hardship] to be a newspaper guy in his home town. Most of what he went through came from people right here in Cameron, people who should have known better. He'd get phone calls and emails from people griping at him for the smallest things. It was tough on him, sometimes. But he stood up for what he believed and didn't mind writing about it, even when it made some people angry."
Mike recalled one time a mother reacted badly to his work at an accident scene.
"She jumped in front of me and started yelling," he said. "I wish people understood that we don't like taking [pictures at car accidents] but it's our job. Sometimes, telling those stories can help someone else."
Still, Mike never went out of his way to make people angry. Ideas meant something to him and he respected others who shared them, even when they didn't agree. And there was something in him that secretly enjoyed being stopped on the street or in the grocery store by people who wanted to talk.
During his career as a photographer and reporter Mike simply called 'em like he saw them. Sometimes he saw them like everyone else. Sometimes he didn't. "But, you always knew where he stood," said Sapp. "He wasn't wishy-washy."
"When I think about Mike, the thing I think about the most is the way that he touched everybody in the community," said Rob Reed. Reed worked as a reporter and announcer at KMIL for many years and, during that time, struck up a friendship with Mike. "He had such a passion for Cameron and the people who live there. Whatever he did or wrote, it had an impact on the community."
It had an impact on those two men as well. Mike wrote stories about both men and both still have copies of those stories easily accessible.
"He could really choke you up with a pen," said Reed. "He was that kind of a writer and probably one of the best friends I've ever had."
First photo was [bad]
Mike's newspaper career began while he was still in high school. In fact, the story of his first sale to The Cameron Herald includes all you really need to know about Mike Peck and his love for Cameron and Yoe sports.
"I sold my first picture ... when I was 16," Mike said. "I came in and said, 'Hey, I'm the junior photographer at Yoe High and I noticed you don't have a sports page and thought you might like some pictures every now and then.' And by the time I left, we'd struck a deal."
He said that first profitable picture was of a running back, George Whiteside, hurdling another player.
"I took it. It was [bad] but when I saw it in the newspaper, it was real and it was, 'wow,'" he said. "I still have that first page folded up somewhere at the house."
With that, he began selling shots to The Herald for $5-6 each.
While that may tell you a lot about Mike and this business of newspapering, it doesn't really explain it.
Born and raised in Cameron, he suffered from hepatitis when he was in middle school. In the hospital for weeks upon weeks, he said he and his family were cradled and comforted by the people here.
His wife, Kim, said that the doctors had given up on him. "They gathered the family in, one night, and explained that they thought he wouldn't make it until morning," she said.
But Mike fooled the doctors that time. He survived.
But, he wouldn't have kept up with everything had not the community pulled together to help him. The schools even made it possible for him to listen in on classes though he couldn't be there physically. "They installed a telephone in my room," he joked. "It was probably the first example of distance learning in Cameron."
Within days of Mike's leaving the hospital, his mother was killed after suffering an aneurysm at work. Again, the family found comfort and support in their hometown.
"I could have gone someplace else," he said once. "I've thought about it. But, when it comes down to it, Cameron is a special place and these people have given me so much. I don't think I could be happy."
The visual storyteller
Mike spent much of his youth watching movies. His father, Billy, worked for the post office but also held a night job as manager of the local movie theater. Those moving pictures and the stories told by those movies, probably kindled Peck's visual and storytelling talents before he even realized it.
And he didn't realize it, at first. He was a typical high school kid, struggling to meet obligations with increasingly long hair and an intensifying 16-year-old attitude. He wanted (and got) a motorcycle, then wrecked it, then rebuilt it. Got an old truck and rebuilt it. But, despite being directed toward these goals, he still lacked a real focus when he got a call from the journalism teacher, Barbara Burke, one summer.
"She put this little camera down in front of me and said, 'I want you to be our junior photographer next year,' " he remembered. "I told her, 'Hey you've got the wrong guy' and pushed it back at her."
But she insisted and he, finally, acquiesced and found his passion.
"I used to get out of football games, run home for a sandwich and go back up to the school. I just couldn't wait to see what was on that film," he said. "I guess I'd be up there until about 3 o'clock in the morning."
One day a man gave him an enlarger for his home.
"I'll bet I used 7,000 trash bags plugging up the holes in my grandma's garage to make a dark room," he remembered. "I didn't have running water out there. I stuck a hose through the wall and had to run out and around to turn it on and run," he made running motions, "out again to turn it off."
"And now at, it's just about the only thing I know how to do so it's like - better do it," he smiled.
Cameras, anyone?
To Mike, doing his job meant lugging his enormous camera bag everywhere. His passion for new camera gear - for electronics of any kind - is legend. "I've got 15 or 20 camera bodies in a closet at home," he said while scrolling through a website with the specs for the latest Cannon digital camera. He weighed that last camera purchase for a very long time and could cite even the most esoteric specs on the new Cannon 20D with little or no provocation.
"There's nothing like the smell of new electronics fresh out of the box," he'd say, inhaling deeply.
But, having the best camera he could afford was important to him. "I believe that if you don't take the time to catch that moment on film, it's completely gone forever and some things only happen once," he said.
And sometimes, Mike tried to tell those stories and take those pictures, even if it put him in harm's way.
Once, he was backing up to better frame a rodeo shot when he stepped into a posthole and badly twisted his ankle. Bill Cooke, from the Rockdale Reporter took a picture of him several days later catching pictures on the courthouse lawn, his swollen foot stretched out in front of him.
"Mike's a good one," Cooke wrote on the back of the photo he sent to then-publisher Frank Luecke.
Giddings ignites opinions
While Mike took his photography seriously, he never considered himself to be a good writer.
"When Jacquie and I arrived in Cameron, Mike was already an exceptional photographer and was desperately eager to become an exceptional reporter," said former Herald publisher Wayne Green. "He was like a sponge, in a way. He soaked up every useful piece of instruction you could offer him and he put it to good use. Mike, I think, went on to become a very, very good reporter. Not only for a small town, at just about any level. He was an asset to Cameron."
While Mike grew as a reporter and writer, he resisted writing anything that gave him the opportunity to express his own opinion ... until that infamous football game in Giddings.
As the story goes, Mike was on the Yoe sideline, minding his own business when he heard the PA system call for security. He turned to the side judge to find out what was up but, instead, found two members of Giddings Police Department ready to escort him from the field.
"They said that I was creating a disturbance," Mike remembered. "What, me?!"
"I thought that Giddings was way out of line," said Sapp. "I think they were just looking for something to get our mind off the game. He wasn't disrupting us at all. I thought it was a ploy on their part but it's a standing joke, now. It is in Giddings, too."
"I'd been trying to talk him into writing a column for some time," remembered Frank Shubert, the publisher at the time. "Then, he came back from that game and he was hot. He just sat down and wrote it, beginning to end. Then, when he was finished, I worried that we would have room for it, it was so long."
Kids at school
By anyone's count, Mike attended every Cameron Yoe football game from the day he drew his first paycheck as a freelance photographer through last season. In fact, last Friday's season opener was likely the first time since 1972 that the Cameron Yoemen played a football game without Mike Peck stalking the sidelines.
It is certain that, over the years, Mike knew every kid that donned a Yoe helmet, and most of those who didn't.
"He and Kim didn't have any kids," said Sapp, "but he had a bunch of kids at the high school and he helped to raise them all."
"You know if I had to do it all again, I'd line up to do it the same way," Mike said. "It's been so much fun. I look at high school kids. This year's valedictorian wasn't even born when I started to work here."
Mike served his community and this newspaper for 32 years, through three owners and five publishers. He's watched the paper go from twice weekly and back again, from lean times when he raced to the bank with his paycheck, to more stable ones.
And like his community supported him, he supported it, with his life and his energy, his stories and his pictures.
-30-
Funeral services
Family visitation will be Thursday from 6 - 8 p.m. at Marek-Burns-Laywell Funeral Home in Cameron.
Funeral Services will be Friday at 1 p.m. at the funeral home.
Burial will follow the funeral service in Oak Hill Cemetery.
The Cameron Herald will close at 11 a.m. on Friday and remain closed for the rest of the day.
Mike Peck: side bar
Over the years, Mike garnered a variety of press awards. He was even quite proud of many of them.
However, he coveted the state trophy for sports photography. After years of trying, someone else always won.
"Always a bridesmaid, never a bride," he'd say.
To make matters worse, one year, his cross-county rival at the Rockdale Reporter won that particular category with a rodeo photo.
"That's not really even sports," he said in dismay.
But, in 2004, Mike's material won the first place trophy in both sports and feature photography.
In the last few years, he'd won state and regional recognition for his sports coverage, news writing and a third place national trophy for humorous column writing.
Mike is survived by his father, Billy, Kim, his wife of 23-years, his Aunt Lois, his step-mom Melissa, two step-sisters, a variety of nieces and nephews, two cats, a computer, an iPod and more camera gear than you can shake a magic stick at.
In lieu of flowers, you may make a donation in his name to the Cameron ISD Scholarship Foundation.
We'll miss you, Mike. This place will never be the same. We're expecting you to have the cigarette boat fired up and ready to go!
This story was published in the Cameron Herald August 31, 2005.
Friday, August 12, 2005
THE RAGGED EDGE: Lighten up on the dress code
I think I've just about had it with the CISD dress code. The following story may be exaggerated for effect but, if there is even the tiniest shred of truth to it, I give up.
According to some students (and at least one school employee), several girls here in Cameron were sent home from picture day last week because they had exposed their collarbones. Not their bare shoulders. Not their midriff (though cheerleaders seem to get away with ignoring that particular regulation). They got sent home because the collarbone below their neck was exposed. It is, they were told, a new part of the dress code.
The only response I could come up with was ???????.
Our district already has a reputation for draconian enforcement of a rather draconian dress code that seems to be re-interpreted every two or three months. I'd lay odds that we can trace at least part of our sharp decline in enrollment to this.
Last year, for example, our kids were banned from wearing hoodies (hooded sweatshirts), of all things, because the garment seemed to let some of the boys get around the stricture against baggy pants and un-tucked shirts.
What have we become, some kind of crazed fashion Nazis? Let's just wrap these kids up in shapeless, one-size-fits-all orange coveralls and call it done, shall we?
Let's consider those baggy pants for a moment. That particular garment sparked much of the silliness that now passes for a dress code at Cameron.
Some school trustees and parents don't like baggy pants but what they really, really dodn't like is the fact that some white kids have started wearing these pants. They are fashionable among young Hispanic and black men but we can't really have white kids wearing them, can we?
Listen, I don't much care for them, either. I think they look silly. You can't run in them and you can't climb into a pickup truck wearing them because the crotch hangs around your knees. But, that's no reason to ban them. In fact, a sharp lawyer might be able to make the case that banning this kind of clothing is discriminatory.
The fact is, folks didn't like long hair on guys back when I went to high school and wasted a lot of time trying to ban the custom. Sharp lawyers across the south tied school boards up in knots over that one.
On the other hand, school officials didn't seem to mind that most of the girls wore micro-mini dresses so short that they would be considered positively scandalous by today's standards.
Times change and fashions come and go. So what?
If you don't like baggy pants, don't wear them. If you really don't like baggy pants, don't let your kids wear them. But, friends, this is a fashion issue. It's probably even a cultural issue. It is not a school issue.
My mother-in-law, a veteran teacher with years of service teaching at inner city schools, once warned that it is very dangerous to challenge the creativity of teenagers. They have a lot more time - and motivation - to figure out ways to defeat school rules they consider inconsequential and ultimately meaningless than administrators have to figure out ways to enforce them.
We publish the Thorndale Champion so I'm occasionally on that campus and see pictures of their kids all the time. Barely half of them dress in a fashion that would meet the letter of our dress code. Yet, that district has been ranked by the Texas Education Agency as "recognized" for three consecutive years. The year before this incredible run, TISD was rated "exemplary."
When was the last time that CISD earned "recognized" status as a district? (Never.)
Thorndale has a pretty simple dress code and doesn't waste a whole lot of time or energy enforcing it. Here it is: Don't show underwear; don't wear ratty jeans, flip flops, tank tops or t-shirts that promote alcohol, drugs or tobacco. They don't like baggy pants either but don't get all bent out of shape about it as long as there's no visible underwear involved.
That's about it.
Violators don't get sent home; nor are they sent to some sort of punishment class. Instead, the principal makes the offender exchange his or her clothing for a horrid lime green t-shirt and a pair of ugly gray shorts. All it takes is one day in that outfit for a Thorndale student to see the light. The school has very, very few repeat offenders.
Some claim that a strict dress code, strictly enforced, instills discipline and teaches citizenship. This may be true, in the Marines or at a Catholic school or with a sane and consistent policy. I posit that aggressive enforcement of an unreasonable dress code that doesn't let kids learn about life by making poor fashion choices, or allow for cultural differences or differences in body type, creates as many discipline problems as it solves.
Enforcing this dress code is sapping our resources and instilling in our kids a sense of resentment and contempt for school rules. That's much more dangerous, in the long run, than the occasional bare midriff or un-tucked shirt.
Our school officials should worry less about what our kids are wearing and more - a whole lot more - about what they're learning.
This column was published Aug. 11, 2005 in the Cameron Herald.
Saturday, October 30, 2004
The Ragged Edge: Some background on the Pledge
The case, decided by the 9th Circuit Court last summer, ruled that it is unconstitutional to require recitation of the Pledge in public school. The offending passage, the court ruled, is the phrase "under God," and cited the Establishment Clause of the Constitution as its authority.
I remember wondering what all the fuss was about but let the whole thing pass with little comment. Last week's Supreme Court decision prompted me to find out more so I did some research.
Most of us probably grew up reciting the Pledge and just assumed that it was a part of our patriotic tradition. In fact, the Pledge is only 111 years old and has been altered twice - most recently in 1954 because the Knights of Columbus felt that it sounded too much like a Communist oath and lobbied Congress to change it. That's when "under God" was inserted.
The Pledge was written in 1892 and introduced during a nationwide celebration of the 400th anniversary of Columbus' discovery of America as part of a National Education Association program. It was recited as part of that patriotic salute to America and its fledgling public school system.
As an aside, the event also saw about 26,000 American flags sold to public schools all over the land. This item generated the saw that the Pledge was written only to sell flags but the fact is, until then, American flags flew only over military bases.
At the time, the progressive Socialist movement was in full swing in America. If I can trust the historians, the Pledge was written by an avowed Christian Socialist, Francis Bellamy, who was ejected from the pulpit of the Baptist Church where he was employed for preaching Socialist rhetoric. One particular sermon, "Jesus was a Socialist," really earned the ire of the congregation.
Those early Socialists wanted the government to take over the whole economy and enforce equality of income, class and social standing. Their mission statement read like something straight out of a Communist Manifesto with ideals like "worker's paradise" and "industrial army" and "utopian society." (Looking Backward by Edward Bellamy - Francis' cousin - was published in 1888 and sold more copies than any book save for Uncle Tom's Cabin and Ben Hur. Apparently, American Socialism was quite popular.)
One important component of the movement is that Socialists believed that they could subvert society, incrementally, if it weren't for that pesky document called the United States Constitution.
Now, here's where it becomes interesting. Socialists believed that the state (or should I say: State?) reigned supreme. There was no way for them to realize their utopian ideals if the rights of individuals trumped those of the State and the U.S. Constitution was their biggest single roadblock.
In his comparison of American and English constitutions, Francis Bellamy is quoted as saying, "England's Constitution readily admits of constant though gradual modification. Our American Constitution does not readily admit of such change. England can thus move into Socialism almost imperceptibly. Our Constitution being largely individualistic must be changed to admit of Socialism, and each change necessitates a political crisis."
In addition to being difficult to modify, our Constitution (and the Declaration of Independence) consciously promoted certain principles. Under these documents, the rights of individuals come first and the state exists simply to protect those natural, pre-existing rights.
Collectivism, statism and socialism argue the opposite point: that the government comes first and any civil liberties are merely privileges bestowed at the whim of the all-powerful State.
Our Republic depends on the Constitution, not the other way around. If Americans are loyal to the Declaration and Constitution, the Republic is safe.
In other words, would you rather have our elected officials swear to "preserve, protect and defend" the Constitution (as they are required to do) or to "preserve, protect and defend" the government - whatever that vast, faceless organization might happen to be? The former is comforting. The later is, or should be, scary.
All this leads me to wonder how the Pledge became central to our patriotism ... and how the very people who stand for conservative family values, smaller government and individual responsibilities have such a knee-jerk response to any perceived slight against it.
I suspect that Franklin, Jefferson, Adams, et. al. spun in their graves when the Pledge entered our collective (no pun intended) patriotic consciousness and became commonplace.
Might it be more appropriate to teach our children respect for the Constitution? (Not if you are a Socialist and you are trying to indoctrinate children with Socialistic values and disdain for individual liberties.)
And, of course, a lot of people seem to prefer that we all march in unswerving, unquestioning lockstep with current ideology. It's just less contentious that way.
Does this mean that Francis Bellamy was un-American? Probably not; he just had a different vision for our country than the rest of us.
Nor am I trying to make the argument that the Pledge is somehow un-American or unconstitutional. This is just food for thought, context for the fracas surrounding this controversial Supreme Court case.
I'm interested in how things came to be the way they are.
I'll grant that the flag is a very important symbol and the Republic is due our respect but it's important to remember that everything this country stands for springs from the Constitution. Not the Republic. Not the flag. Not a particular political ideology. It's all about the Constitution.
We forget that at our peril.
This was published Oct. 30, 2004 in the Cameron Herald.
Friday, April 23, 2004
The Ragged Edge: Follow the money to tax reform
An editorial we published in our April 8 edition asserted that only a few school districts are clamoring to reform the way Texas finances public education but that Texas Legislators are beholden to these districts for votes and campaign contributions.
A new report states plainly that these few school districts also have tremendous clout with Texas' political leadership. Last week, Campaigns for People, an Austin-based political action committee, released a study indicating that the districts that stand to benefit the most by dismantling the so-called "Robin Hood" school finance system are also those whose citizens donated most generously to political campaigns. This study draws its conclusions through information gleaned from campaign finance reports filed with the Texas Ethics Commission.
Indeed, the report points out that campaign contributions from people living in the top 10 wealthiest school districts accounted for almost 28 percent of all campaign contributions to all candidates in the 2002 election.
House Speaker Tom Craddick was the chief beneficiary of this largess. Nearly 31 percent of his campaign contributions came from within these school districts. Donors from only two wealthy school districts - Austin and Highland Park -- accounted for over 15 percent of all the money Craddick raised to finance his 2002 re-election bid.
These districts took care of Gov. Rick Perry as well. In all, he raised over 25 percent of his 2002 war chest from people living in the top 10 wealthiest school districts.
Of course, these districts represent some of the wealthiest communities in Texas so it's probably not too surprising that they also contributed to re-election campaigns at higher rates than the rest of the state. Still, when you look at the numbers this way, and you recognize that many of these same districts are the ones hollering the loudest for school finance reform, it's got to make you wonder.
Now, I'm not diving back into this issue because I'm opposed to reforming the way we finance our public schools; nor do I think holding a special session or three to address the issue is a waste of time.
It's not a waste of time. Wealthy schools are right to beef about this and rural schools have been watching their state-sponsored revenue stream steadily dry up over the last few years. The current plan isn't really working for anyone. It was, at best, a band aide applied to our tax structure in order to get out from under a Texas Supreme Court mandate. We need to find a more permanent fix, not another crazy-quilt patchwork cobbled together because of political expediency.
My biggest heartburn is with the idea that any system devised at the behest of people from wealthy school districts will be entirely fair to small rural schools or to middle class taxpayers.
Everybody, it seems, insists that our property taxes be reduced, despite the fact that Texans have one of the lowest state and local tax burdens in the United States. The Tax Foundation, a non-profit Washington group, found that Texas ranks 46th nationally. Only Tennessee, Alaska, Delaware and New Hampshire pay lower state and local taxes than Texans.
Further, high property taxes don't seem to be deterring anyone (who can find a job there) from moving to Richardson or Plano or Alamo Heights. These school districts maintain tremendously high growth rates. If low property taxes were such a draw, more folks would be moving to Granger or Buckholts or Zapata.
If we cut property taxes, we'll have to find some other source (or series of sources) for the balance of the $26 billion required to pay for our public education system. You're kidding yourself if you believe that there will actually be more money in education's pot, after all the dust settles. There won't. It's entirely possible that there will be less.
In fact, few of the financing schemes I've heard about actually end Robin Hood. Most of them establish a sort of Super Robin Hood plan that ships all property tax money off to the state for redistribution.
You'll also be kidding yourself if you believe that middle class taxpayers will have a lower tax burden when this is all over. Our property taxes may see a small cut but most of us will pay more in sales and "sin" taxes than we saved. Even the most ardent supporters of tax reform acknowledge this.
So, once the Legislative shell game has run its course, our schools won't have any more money than they do now and most Texans will have a higher tax bill. Does that sound right?
I don't know what the answer is. I think it was former Gov. Ann Richards who said you can't really "fix" school finances; all you can hope to do is manage them.
Our tax system needs to be reformed but it's just not right to "manage" the state's education budget on the backs of rural schools and middle class taxpayers.
This column was published April 22, 2004 in the Cameron Herald.
Thursday, March 4, 2004
Ragged Edge: Gay Marriage, a moderate perspective
Further, I'm not convinced this is the best time to hold this particular national debate. I mean, what's the hurry?
But, since Rev. Dan Darby took up one corner of the debate last week ("Gay marriage: a Christian perspective"), I'll stake out another.
First of all, I'm just parochial enough that the whole idea of gay marriage leaves me a bit uneasy. However, I learned at my parents' knee that it is my place to neither condemn nor condone cultural differences and personal choices. It's not our place to judge personal behavior.
My parents (a preacher and a teacher) preached tolerance to (and sometimes at) my brothers and me so I grew up with an appreciation for and recognition of personal differences.
While I'm not convinced that we should mainstream gay marriage, I'm very distressed at the idea that we would consider amending our Constitution to discriminate against certain of our citizens simply because some of us are uneasy - or downright hostile - about certain lifestyles.
There are so many facets to a marriage: love, commitment, affection, devotion, sharing of experiences, mutual support, sharing of financial obligations, etc. It seems to me that the State only has an interest in one of those things - the sharing of financial obligations, specifically to provide for children.
The document that the State uses to formalize a relationship between two people is simply a legal contract. Its purpose is to delineate the responsibilities of the parties involved. From a purely civil perspective, a marriage license is no different from any other legally binding contract.
What this contract does not do is sanctify, edify or in any other way make this relationship holy. The State cannot sanctify a marriage. We reserve that to God and His terrestrial representatives.
Frankly, I'm not sure we really want to walk down a path that ends with State being able to tell an adult with whom he (or she) can or cannot enter into a legal contract.
Aside from mutual support (in all its permutations), the primary purpose of a marriage (both civil and Biblical) is to provide for children. Since gays and lesbians are able to adopt children, the State should allow them to enter into a contract that provides for the support of those children. Indeed, they should probably be obligated to enter into such a contract.
I know, I know ... the Bible says certain things regarding marriage and those who are adamantly opposed to this idea can ferret out chapter and verse to support their contention that gay marriage is unholy, disgusting, unnatural and represents a clear and present danger to the Republic.
The simple fact is, you can look in the Bible - particularly the Old Testament - and find justification for all sorts of things our society no longer condones including several forms of polygamy, the execution of women who have lost their virginity out of wedlock, the murder of children who tease old men and several passages that grant men permission to keep mistresses ... as many mistresses as they can afford.
However, you cannot turn to the New Testament and find a verse where Jesus taught we should judge other people. You won't find it because it doesn't exist.
Never mind that our secular government shouldn't meddle in religion - and vice versa. Never mind that our secular government should be able to find room for all sorts of cultural, choice and religious lifestyles. Biblical prohibitions against gay marriage are no more relevant to our secular society than Biblical exhortations to murder girls who lose their virginity before they get married.
This country was founded on certain principals, among them that all men are created equal and have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Who are we to allow the tyranny of the majority to impose its will on the few who are simply trying to live that American Dream? Aren't all of our citizens entitled to a life free from bigotry and religious persecution?
(Look it up: when a class of people are subjected to unfair treatment, it's persecution. When that persecution is justified because of religious beliefs, it's "religious persecution.")
I've known a few - a very few - openly gay men and women. I can't say that I can call more than a bare handful of those friends. However, none of them are ogres bent on destroying the moral fabric of this country. They are simply people - sinners like the rest of us - who want to be accepted for who and what they are.
It's okay to be uneasy about all this and to question how best to protect our society from too-rapid change.
But it is just plain wrong to allow our Constitution to be sullied with words of hate, fear and discrimination.
This column was published March 4, 2004 by The Cameron Herald and was part of a package of personal columns which won a First Place from the Texas Press Association.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
The Ragged Edge: Victims were real people, too
Albert, 38, was a groom at Valhalla Farms and lived in Rockdale. Adolfo, 27, had a wife and baby girl. They lived in Cameron.
They were both born in Mexico but they lived and worked here. They had friends and family here, people who loved them. They were real people.
Albert and Adolfo died June 4, 2000 when they crossed in front of a BNSF train at the Houston Street crossing, the same crossing where Brian Reinders and Travis Mueck died last month.
The circumstances between the two accidents are chillingly similar.
It was a late on a Sunday afternoon, around 6 p.m., according to the report published in this newspaper, when Adolfo and Albert attempted that crossing. The weather was clear, the sun bright. It's likely that Adolfo, the driver, never even saw the train coming, not necessarily because the sun was blinding (though that is also possible) but because the glare off the rails makes seeing anything past about 100 feet very difficult.
In fact, you can test this particular theory yourself. The next sunny day, go to that intersection at around 5 p.m. and look to the west. Note that the sun is not on the horizon but the glare from the sun glances off the rails and right into your eyes. No one could see a train if it is right behind the glare.
One striking difference between the accidents is that Brian and Travis crossed that intersection from Houston Street. Adolfo crossed from the other direction and would have had to look back over his shoulder - right into the teeth of the glare - to see anything.
In both accidents ... well, never mind. Let's just say that the immediate aftermath of both accidents was also very similar and leave it at that.
Recently, we mentioned Albert's and Adolfo's deaths in an editorial. We meant no disrespect when we referred to them as "Mexican laborers." Had we known more about the men, likely we would have written the editorial the same way because we were trying to make a point.
That point is that, four years ago - long before Brian and Travis were killed - our city leaders had a stark demonstration of the danger posed by that particular intersection. It may be "seldom-used," as one news report put it, but it's not "never used." People in this town - particularly young folks in a hurry - often use that intersection as a short cut.
But, Adolfo and Albert were first-generation immigrants. It's possible they weren't even American citizens yet, but that's not information I have. They were laborers, fully employed but employed at low-skill positions. They weren't well known. While their families and friends - of which, by all accounts, there were many - mourned their passing, they had no family or business connections to the people in Cameron who would feel outrage at their deaths and could Get Things Done.
Brian and Travis were bright young men with stellar futures. They were well loved and well respected. They touched many lives in this town and their deaths affected all of us.
Adolfo and Albert may have been real people but, the way Texans often look at things, they were nobodies.
So, when they died that sunny Sunday afternoon in June four years ago, the community at large shrugged its collective shoulders, tsk'ed briefly at the tragedy then moved on in glacial indifference.
And that's a shame because their deaths were rendered senseless by that very indifference. If nothing else, that accident four years ago should have been a catalyst to appropriately mark - or at least close - that dangerous intersection.
Instead, it was still open, still unguarded last month. It remains open and unguarded today.
This was published Feb. 19, 2004 in The Cameron Herald.
Thursday, February 5, 2004
Editorial: Close it. Now!
In June of 2000, two Mexican laborers were killed while crossing that intersection. It's unfortunate that the men were neither popular nor particularly well known. Had they been, someone in this community would have pushed hard to upgrade or close that crossing a long time ago. Instead, their deaths were largely ignored and the manner of their passing was chalked up to inattention or alcohol or drugs.
Had someone pushed four years ago, that crossing would have either been closed or adequately signed when those young men tried to cross it last Tuesday afternoon.
Just as nobody took responsibility for the accident four years ago, no one wants to take responsibility for last week's accident.
As we've reported in our page-1 story, three entities -- the Texas Department of Transportation, Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railroad and the City of Cameron - have been discussing since May 2002 upgrading the warning signals at the Houston Street rail crossing (the crossing is listed as the Cedar Street crossing, # 022924R, in an inventory maintained by the Federal Railroad Authority).
But the sequence of events that, on one hand, listed the intersection as the 26th most dangerous rail crossing in Texas as of December 2001, then declared the intersection a private crossing in August 2002 (which dropped it off the federal list of dangerous rail crossings needing improvement) has a hard time passing the smell test.
Further, it gives credence to the conspiracy theorists who insist that state rail authorities are in cahoots with railroad companies to avoid marking any crossing they don't have to.
The three entities met, looked over the crossing and decided that the road opposite Houston Street is not a dedicated city street. Since it's not a city street, the crossing is not eligible for federal funds.
TxDOT insists that it can't advance the project any further until the issue of public-private ownership is resolved.
BNSF officials won't "speak to public or private" issues, even though the railroad actually owns and pays taxes on the property.
For its own part, the city has said it would do whatever is necessary to upgrade the crossing but has been waiting around for either TxDOT or BNSF to tell it what to do.
In other words, everyone's been sitting on their hands waiting for someone else to do something.
That's not good enough. It shouldn't have been good enough and it certainly isn't good enough any more.
Only one of these three entities has the authority, mandate and responsibility to correct this dangerous situation. Only one of these entities is charged with protecting the safety and welfare of the citizens of this town: The City of Cameron.
The city is the only one of the three entities responsible for railroad crossings in the city limits that can and must harass TxDOT and BNSF until something is done.
Make no mistake, this is a public safety issue. Our elected city council members can no longer stand by while more powerful interests dither. It is up to our elected representatives - and the professionals they employ - to cut through the chaff and protect us and our children.
The city council must close the Houston Street crossing - temporarily but immediately, regardless of any protest - until a permanent, safe solution can be found.
Anything less is negligence and places other lives at risk.
This was originally published Feb. 5, 2004 as an editorial in The Cameron Herald. It was part of a package that won awards for editorial writing from the National Newspaper Association, the Texas Press Association, the South Texas Press Association, the Texas Gulf Coast Press Association and the North & East Texas Press Association.
Thursday, January 22, 2004
The Ragged Edge: Politics and religion don't mix
The very worst chapters of human history were written when these two very powerful spheres of culture collided. Theocratic states -- countries either run by a religion or so bound up in religious law that secular and theocratic doctrine become confused -- have generally been intolerant of people who do not firmly and zealously hold to the beliefs of the majority religion.
This intolerance has ranged from oppression of women and denial of citizenship to non-believers, to torture and outright genocide. Indeed, many of the worst atrocities ever committed by mankind have been committed in the name of one religion or another.
That's why this democracy was founded on the very clear understanding that our government has no business messing around with church business and churches should stay out of the government's business.
I bring up this point because there as been a recent trend -- a trend illustrated by several letters published in this newspaper -- that political ideology and religious beliefs should go hand-in-hand.
This trend has been growing for a number of years but intensified after the tragedy of Sept. 11, 2001. In the span of 24 hours, it seemed that you couldn't be patriotic unless you are also a Christian. Never mind that this country has always been a haven for a cacophony of religious voices ... and a place for non-believers as well.
Now, all of a sudden, according to some, you can't be a Christian if you are also a Democrat.
'Democrats believe in abortion and no Christian can hold to that.' Besides, every good right-wing Republican knows that all Democrats are godless.
Excuse me, all liberal Democrats are godless. Those other Democrats are simply confused.
Baloney. That's not only wrong-headed, it's dangerous, divisive and completely against the spirit of our country and Christ's teaching.
There is a sharp difference between secular law and religious doctrine. Secular laws -- the laws passed by the federal and state governments -- are meant to apply to everyone, regardless of their religious beliefs. There's even tolerance built into our secular laws to allow for different religious beliefs.
Religious laws apply only to those who believe in that particular sect of that particular religion. To believe and act in any other way smacks of sanctimonious self-righteousness.
Though some of our laws are grounded in the Judeo-Christian foundation of this country -- in fact, there is a distinct correlation between most common law and Christian doctrine -- the U.S. Constitution does not recognize any religious law as the law of the land.
This is so for the very simple fact that one person's religious law is another person's idiocy.
For example, there are some (actually most) religious doctrines that teach that taking any life is against the Word of God. In fact, the set of laws most revered by Christians in this country include a frank prohibition against taking a life. As I recall, there are no exceptions to the Commandment: "Thou shall not kill."
Indeed, many of the same people who would carve the Ten Commandments on the walls of every public building in the land cite that Commandment as grounds to deny women the legal right to terminate an unwanted pregnancy, the right to retain control over her own destiny.
Yet, many of those same people also support capital punishment, state-sponsored execution.
So, which religious laws should we observe? The ones that tell us what food we can and can't eat? The ones that tell us to take unruly, disrespectful children out to the edge of town and smash their heads against rocks?
Who will play Solomon and decide which of God's Words we must observe and when it's okay to safely ignore them?
Politics and religion make a dangerously volatile mixture. Our government is an instrument of secular life, not a tool to compel conformity according to some religious principle.
The Constitution specifically protects minorities from the tyranny of the majority.
We can't afford to let the narrow religious beliefs of a vocal few -- no matter how right and moral they believe they are -- dictate to the rest of us how we should feel, what we should believe, which laws we should pass or overturn and how we should vote.
It would be un-Christian and un-American.
This was published in the Cameron Herald in January, 2004.
Friday, August 15, 2003
The Ragged Edge: The inflammatory incident at Bob's
But, since my wife was dragged into this mess, I suppose I'd better set the record straight. Full disclosure and all that.
First of all, despite what you might have inferred from the radio, Tia Rae had nothing to do with it. She was an innocent bystander, possibly guilty by association but certainly not by commission.
(By the way, that blabber mouth on the radio - and you know who you are- should take this as fair warning that I don't get mad, I get even ... and what I write stays in print for a loooong time.)
I'd like to blame it on exhaustion or Shiner or distraction but the simple fact is: I tried to burn down Bob's Steakhouse.
Fortunately, I'm as inept at pyromania as I am at fighting fires.
Here's the whole, sordid story.
It was Friday evening about two weeks ago. Tia Rae and I were tired ... exhausted from eight long weeks of rehearsals at the community theater combined with a brutal work schedule. Since all the kids were away, we didn't have to go home and cook (not that we've done much of that this summer - but vegetables are something you don't eat unless you take time to actually prepare a meal instead of heating up sausage or opening a can of tuna).
Anyway, on this Friday evening, all I really wanted was a good steak and a cold beer - not necessarily in that order. So, we went to Bob's where they know to keep the Shiner cold and how to cook a rib eye that J. Frank Dobie would have appreciated. We barely even have to place the order, which is mighty handy when you are so tired you can hardly speak.
Before we had a chance to find a table, James Brogger sidled out from behind the register. The youngster used to work in our mailroom and spent Friday nights busing tables. It was thrilling to discover that James had not only graduated from C.H. Yoe High School in good standing but from washing dishes at Bob's: James was our waiter that night.
James came back with my Shiner and a basket of bread. While we waited patiently for our steaks, we spent a little time catching up with him.
I flipped over the paper napkin that had wrapped the bread and buttered a piece while we visited. You know, James is a tall fellow; I remember craning my neck to keep up with our conversation.
Suddenly, a brilliant flare of light danced between us.
"Uh, that's on fire," Tia Rae said, pointing to the breadbasket, her voice tinged with the tenor of mild hysteria.
I glanced down at the breadbasket and saw that, sure enough, I had carefully draped the paper napkin across the sugar dish and over the candle in the middle of the table. As I watched, flames spread from the candle, kissed the sugar packets and engulfed the breadbasket. The scoop of butter, which was nearby, developed a shiny glaze.
James, bless him, tried to smother the fire with his tray, his eyes growing larger by the moment.
Mary Beth, one of the waitresses, raced over and whisked the flaming sugar packets away. A brief flurry of activity by the rest of the staff saw all flames extinguished before I could think to do something really brilliant like grab a handy bottle of whisky and pour it over the flaming bread.
I remained rather calm throughout the incident; my sole effort at fire control was blowing on the flaming sugar packets, a monumentally unhelpful and ineffective action as it merely fanned the fire and spread bits of charred paper onto the melted butter and across to an adjacent table.
A few minutes later, James returned with a fresh basket of bread, this one helpfully labeled, "Caution, contents is combustible." One of his cohorts kindly placed an industrial grade fire extinguisher on the corner of our table.
We've been back to Bob's since. They actually let us in, though they thoughtfully blew out all the candles in the vicinity.
This column was published August 14, 2003 in the Cameron Herald.
Thursday, February 6, 2003
The Ragged Edge: The enduring human spirit
Very early in the program, while the various initial boosters were still on the drawing board, Werner Von Braun, the father of our space program, worried that the mandate to put a human in orbit would turn the effort into a circus. He believed that automated probes would be cheaper and deliver more in terms of scientific discovery, that manned space flight would waste resources and lives.
The launch pad fire in 1967 that took the lives of Ed White, Gus Grissom and Roger Chaffee re-ignited that debate, as did near-disaster of Apollo 13. Predictably, with the loss of the Challenger in 1986, and the lives of its crew, opponents of manned space flight once again marshaled its arguments.
In the wake of Saturday's tragic disintegration of STS Columbia on re-entry, we can be sure that this argument will re-emerge as part of the national debate surrounding our space program.
For 40 years, manned space flight has taken place at the very edge of our technological capabilities. Never mind that the space shuttle is an over-grown, glorified grocery truck, it represents the leading edge of our technical abilities ... plus, it is a very flexible and useful grocery truck.
But, every mission is fraught with peril. Every time we light that can of hydrogen on the belly of a space shuttle, every time the shuttle drops like a winged brick into the atmosphere, the lives of the crew are put on the line because the process is not and can never be 100 percent safe and risk free.
Seventeen astronauts have been killed in the last 40 years. If we continue the effort of putting humans in space, we will lose more.
Is it worth the risk? After all, our space probes are becoming more and more sophisticated. The Mars and Jupiter missions of the last decade seemed to vindicate Von Braun's assertion that automated probes are cheaper and can return a huge value for the investment. What's more, the last Mars mission cost about 25 percent of the cost of one shuttle launch and no lives were placed at risk.
But unmanned space missions just aren't the same. They engender no pride; they don't celebrate the human -- the American -- spirit of adventure, of discovery, of pushing back the dark of night the way a manned space mission can.
Apollo 13 was a terrifying moment in the history of our space program but it made heroes of James Lovell, Fred Haise and John Swigert. Few of us remember -- or even care about -- the highly successful Mars Viking project.
We need robotic space missions to help pave the way but the final frontier's grand adventure isn't real until we go there and touch it ourselves.
There is a painting of a pretty little girl wearing a red hat by Pierre-Agusta Renior hanging in the Chicago Museum of Art. You've probably seen pictures of that girl in her red hat in art books or prints of the painting hanging in someone's home. But, until you see the actual painting with your own, unaided eyes, you've never really experienced the depth and vibrancy of the color red. You can't even know that a particular color can have that kind of depth and vibrancy. When you think of it, is awe-inspiring.
Manned space flight is similar. Until we experience the adventure for ourselves, we can't know the awesome potential of human presence in space.
Our manned space program illuminates and even defines our national character and sense of adventure. Those 17 astronauts knew the risks involved and gave their lives in pursuit of that adventure in discovery.
The coming debate over our space program is welcome but, as we discuss its merits, we should never lose sight of the sense of wonder and our aching desire to experience what lies beyond that horizon with our own eyes and heart and mind.
In memoriam ...
• Apollo I (AS-204)-- Jan. 27, 1967 -- Ed White, Gus Grissom, Roger Chaffee
• Challenger (STS-51-L)-- Jan. 28, 1986 -- Rick Scobee, Michael J. Smith, Judith Resnik, Ronald McNair, Ellison Onizuka, Gregory Jarvis, Christa McAliffe
• Columbia (STS-107)-- Feb. 1, 2003 -- Rick Husband, William McCool, Michael Anderson, Kalpana Chawla, David Brown, Laurel Clark, Ilan Ramon
This column was published February, 2003 in the Cameron Herald.