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A little bird told me
By Stew Goodwin
columnist@barnstablepatriot.com
Those of you who saw my column
on Penguin Politics probably won't
be surprised to discover that I talk to
birds. Frankly,on anumber of subjects
I find their opinions stimulating and
their candor refreshing. Recently, I
have been consulting them about
global warming.
Early last fall a red-bellied wood-
pecker visited our suet
feeder. I interrupted her
snack to ask why she and
her compatriots, who were
rarely seen in these parts
until a few years ago, are
now regular visitors, even
spending the winter. She
caused for a moment , gave
me a scornful look, and replied crisply.
"It's warmer." Then she returned to
munching the suet.
A passingoriole,sensingmy discom-
fort withthewoodpecker'sabruptness,
descended for a gentle elaboration.
Almost inaudibly she reminded me
that as early as 1951, Rachel Carson,
who did some of her research here
in Cotuit , noted in The Sea Around Us
that her oriole ancestors , along with
greater yellowlegs and American avo-
cets, were already moving northward,
often reaching the arctic.
This winter I saw large groups of
sea ducks gathering in North Bay.
One day I put my kayak in the water
and paddled out to ask them some
questions. A male common eider was
really excited about the prospect
of rising and spreading oceans that
might offer an advantage to his par-
ticular species.
"Not so fast," said his female com-
panion. "Anincrease in storm activity,
especially if they are severe, could
make things very dif-
ficult for us. So could
higher ocean tempera-
tures that might affect
our food supply."
A black scoter float-
ing nearby chimed in.
"Drought and irrigation
have shrunk the size
of the lakes I usually nest near," she
said, plainly concerned about her
reproductive future.
One day this spring as I was bicy-
cling to the post office I managed to
callloudly enough to attract the atten-
tion of a turkey vulture lazily circling
overhead. It turned out that he had
family connections in the Andes and
the Tanzanian highlands near Mount
Kilimanjaro.
"You know," he intoned solemnly
as he glided closer, "my cousins have
CONTINUED ON PAGE A:10
Talkin' 'bout my education
COMMENTARY
By David Stewart
Last week,representatives from the
Massachusetts Department of Educa-
tion examined the students and fac-
ulty of Sturgis Charter School. Their
goalwasto identify the characteristics
of a model high school for other high
schools in Massachusetts.
One primary reason our school
received acclaim and notice was our
credentials asanInternational Bacca-
laureate Organization. The program
started forty years ago in Europe to
prepare transfer students to be on
the same academic level as students
in other areas of the world.
In May of 2004 , Sturgis Charter
Public School became one of the
few schools in the country to ad-
minister the IB program to all of its
students.
I amin my senior year at Sturgisand
for the past two years I have studied
under the academic standard of the
IB program. It has been hard and,
at times, somewhat stressful dealing
with the challenging requirements of
my subjects, on top of trying to have
a social life.
Also, I have seen my classmates
become stressed from the abrupt
change in the requirements. Some
students even dropped out of the
IB class.
I have considered giving up when
the work seemed too difficult. Then
I realized that this is going to be my
reality when I enter college and later
become a member of the workforce ,
and I should accept it and be thank-
ful for what I have. Besides, it beats
being part of the 29 percent of stu-
dents nationwide who don't make it
to graduation.
In the May 1issue of a local news-
paper not only did I notice my photo
and gleaming article about Sturgis, I
alsonoticed the headline beneath the
photo , "Model Classrooms."
My initial thought was, "What will
become of the studentswho follow the
same path?" Ithink that students and
teachers are afraid. Afraid of taking
another step toward expanding their
academic curriculum. The change can
be frightful when you are looking at
the economical factors, enrollment
and dropout rates.
It can be overwhelming to admin-
istrators , teachers and students, but
imagine what these students will be
learning when they go beyond the
classroom and become more attuned
to the world around them.
The only numbers that should be on
the minds of teachers and administra-
CONTINUED ON PAGE A:10
LETTERS
Help fight drunk driving
I am askingyour readers to help support some soon-to-be-proposed legislation
which Rep. Cleon Turner is preparing to file. The legislation will allow the use of
a refusal to take the breathalyzer test to be admissible in both civil and criminal
cases in Massachusetts.
At this point in time, juries hearing an OUI case are not permitted to know
that the "alleged" drunk driver refused breathalyzer testing. Many such jurors
wrongly assume that no test was offered, or, if it was, the defendant passed the
test. Information of adenial for such testingcan only come into play after the guilt
or innocence of the driver has been determined.
As the parent of a daughter killed by an "alleged" drunk driver who refused a
breathalyzer, I am askingas many voters as possible in Massachusetts to contact
their legislatorsto askthat they signonto the legislation.Also,please watch for any
announcements that the bill willbe sent to the Joint Committee on the Judiciary
for apublic hearing. Votersand supporters willbe welcome to goto the state house
to testify on behalf of passage of the legislation. That will be some time away.
It is very possible that this legislation will also have some significant opposi-
tion.
Mary Jane Laferriere
Little Compton , R.I.
Fed up with town 'fathers'
It's very obvious why some areas in town have cars over neighbors '
yards!
The town "fathers" have danced all around the obvious answer, and as
weak and penalizing as it is, they want someone to pay for their lack of
leadership!
Provide some incentives to builders to put up low-cost housing or lodg-
ing houses for these transients from other countries, or flatly make it a law
that anybody that wants to hire these folk, they will have to find a way for
them to live!
This town has not put out for anybody not making a fat salary! And prob-
ably won't in the near future with the present roster of town councilors. That
was obvious at that fiasco of a vote on the Darby property !
Don H. James
Centerville
CONTINUED ON PAGE B:4
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a By Paul Gauvin
Fear of local night
crowds gnaws at
hard-won freedom
By Paul Gauvin
pgauvin@barnstablepatriot.com
A lot changed when WWII ended and
Johnny came marching home. Thousands
of bewildered young men trained to kill
returned to jobs that never were, or no
longer existed.
A grateful government helped many go
to college for their re-entry into normalcy,
infusing new life in academia and fresh
hope into the emerging middle class. For
those unable to choose schooling, there
was the "52-20 Club" -$20 a week (a
substantial amount) for 52 weeks or until
work could be had. Women had taken on
jobs for the war effort , creating a compet-
ing labor source that was here to stay.
So these war-hardened young men,
shiftless and confused for the moment ,
donned pegged pants and penny loafers
and took their war stories to the pubs
with painted windows that occupied
nearly every corner in the dying mill cities.
In these sunless, smoke-filled sanctums of
pool tables, pinball machines and bookies,
they drowned unwanted memories in ca-
maraderie and lager by the glass or bottle.
Drinking age was 21 then and younger
veterans started the movement to lower the
age based on the contemporary logic that
if you were old enough to war, you were old
enough to partake of the devil's brew.
In the neighborhood there was "The
Cameo Cafe," the "Square Deal," the
"Rainbow Lounge," the "Polish National
Home," the "President Cafe," the "Knick-
erbocker," the "Blue Bird ," ad infinitum.
Hanging out on those corners became
a way of life. Ten, 15, 20, 30 unarmed ex-
marksmen, outside, pitching pennies from
the curbstone , trying to strike cracks in
the sidewalk with spittle , watching the
world go by, particularly ogling the young
damsels waltzing along with a blush on
their cheeks to get to the bus stop.
Now and then the Cameo crew might
have a disagreement with the Blue Birds
and an alley fight would ensue. There 'd be
bloody noses, a loose tooth , abrasions and
contusions. There were no guns, knives,
drugs, bats - or cops. It was more like
cathartic sport.
Nobody ever closed down the bars or
swept the congregations from their corner
pulpits. Police walked beats then, famil-
iar, friendly, fatherly and forgiving. Those
young men had fought for freedom over
safety and they got it.
That was then and this is now. The
Barnstable police chief, aping President
Bush's peculiar philosophy of heavy-
handed pre-emption , wants to close
most all-night business from 1to 3 a.m.
in downtown Hyannis, just as the air was
let out of the Thursday night street fairs.
Presumably, this will prevent nocturnal
crowds under various degrees of inebria-
tion, drug stupor and aggressiveness from
fluttering about convenience store lights
like moths to a flame.
The proposal , unfortunately, abrogates
the freedoms of the blameless, the busi-
nessman and his patrons -those needing
a prescription at 2 a.m., a mother needing
milk for baby, a visitor out of petrol , an
insomniac yearning for an Oreo -rather
than target the faceless crowds that foist-
ed this decision upon the town council.
A general curfew would be un-American,
unwieldy and give touristy Hyannis a bad
rap. So take the easy way: Cage the sheep
rather than the wolf.
One might ask at this point why the
police administration disemboweled the
auxiliary police that could have helped
maintain the Thursday night street fair
and why it abandoned the summer police
force of vigorous young men that gave
downtown a cocky police presence - and
not at overtime wages.
At issue also is a statement that the
police are outnumbered by these crowds
(as are U.S. soldiers in Iraq, but they are
there anyway) and don't want to take
the chance of being overwhelmed and
getting hurt. The citizenry is under the
impression the police , with SWAT team ,
sharpshooters , bean bag guns, helmets,
back-up, gas, dogs, and other aids were
trained and paid to handle possible flare-
ups without abridging the freedom to
shop, move about or do business when
one wants or needs.
What happens if the individuals in those
crowds congregate on some citizen's front
lawn instead?
The public can speak to this before the
council Thursday night and help decide
whether to gnaw a chunk out of freedom
won the hard way by the boys on the
corners or take a bite out of crime - i/ any
develops.
iCORNER
By Edward F. Maroncy|
More change?
So what else
is new?
My first question is the
same as yours: where's John
Watters?
The Cummaquid Kid ,
who'shad at least one finger
in the newspaper pie since
his early days in circulation
at The Register , then cover-
ing Barnstable for the Reg,
then sports and arts for the
Patriot , and now as an ad
rep at an Orleans-based
biweekly, cited competing
demands on his time as
reasons for suspending his
triple-threat Patriot roles as
theater reviewer, compiler of
our Early Files , and monthly
columnist.
All that work will be con-
tinued by others , but we will
miss John 's humorous and
honest recollections and
commentaries in our pages.
You're welcome to come sit
on the dispatch case for a
chat anytime , old friend.
Selection of Early Files will
be my pleasure now, a happy
return to atask I gave myself
in 1988 when I was editor/re-
porter for my first newspaper,
the Chatham Current. I fell
in love with the eloquence
of Chatham Monitor editor
Levi Atwood' swritings from
a century ago, and marveled
at the connections between
1888 and 1988.
John 's monthly column
space willbe filled in rotation
by this writer, a washashore
of 18 years standing and by
David Still, the Patriot' s
editor, who requires no in-
troduction.
• • •
Washashore , near-native ,
ll th
-generation , or just ar-
rived, there is at least one
"constant" we allexperience:
change.
I was living in a rent-con-
trolled apartment in Boston
in 1987, half a block from my
office at Children's Hospi-
tal, when a church official
called to tell my wife that
she was being assigned to a
congregation on Cape Cod. I
took a message because she
couldn't come to the phone:
she was living in Israel at
the time.
Thinking it wise to main-
tain our base in Boston, I
drove down to the Cape to
scout out an apartment that
my wife would like and that
I could visit on weekends. I
found awoodsy-lookingclus-
ter of new buildings off Camp
Street in West Yarmouth
and arranged to rent a two-
floor, two-bedroom , two-
bath townhouse unit with a
full basement.
Plenty of housing was
going up here back then ,
and there were plenty of
affordable options. That
was in contrast to Boston ,
where my neighbors and I
had been engaged in a long
struggle with a large rental
and development company
that had taken over our
building from a white-shoe
Boston bank. After years of
neglect , the new lads were
pushing cosmetic repairs and
big rent increases. Many of us
-including two elderly sisters
who had lived in the build-
ing since its construction
decades earlier - demurred,
and we wound up winning
our case at a hearing before
the Rent Equity Board. It
wasn't cheap: our apartment
was broken into three times
duringthe fight (I stillmourn
my IBM Personal Self-Cor-
recting electric typewriter).
While not the cultural
cauldron that Boston repre-
sented , Cape Cod in 1987 had
its attractions. There were
so many trees , especially on
the long, straight roads such
as Route 39 in Harwich. You
could get lost on back roads
CONTINUED ON PAGE A:10
lThoughts™tjTwili
ght