The Kennewick courier-reporter. [volume] (Kennewick, Wash.) 1939-1949, 1939-10-19
DEAR EDITOR:

Today l stand upon the zenith OF
of my existence where I can look
back over the torturouS trail over
which have just passed and ahead
into that path that leads always
into the great unknown.
The road ahead leads through
dark valleys, which are shrouded by
the misty mysterious wells of un-
certainty and are but dimly light
ed by the great light which is re-
Elected by the glorious land whose
attainment is the reward of right
living humans.
OF the future have no fear; Of
the past, no regrets, except the
many, many things should have
done and did not and they are so
numerous that couldn't get them
all in one life time even If I could
live it over again.
But as I look back over the
crooked trail by which I Travelled
more than sixty years of my mis-
spent life there are certain things
that were so deeply impressed upon
my memory that made it impossible
to forget them. These occasions
cherished as keepsakes and polish
ed by being frequently relived and
dimmed and softened by the passage
of time stand out as the high lights
of my life. AS I look back I see
many a shady nook close by my
trail, but unseen at the time of
passing, where I could have paused
and enjoyed a pleasant hour if nv
mind had not been so fully en-
crossed in persuing- some will o'wisp
tnat proved of no consequence.
These little sheltered spots hid
den away from the main trail light
ed with gay laughter covered with
reSt1ul grasses and shaded with
beautiful trees which bore much
luscious fruit (some forbidden and
some not) were put there for NV
especial pleasure, but I was so
Dlnded by my Puritinical teachings
tnat believed that every thing that
was pleasure was sin. But everv
Time I should have been sitting in
the shade of tree or resting on the
grass I was wallowfng in some
Shrinking bog hole of needless worry
or striving to correct some, fancied
wrong which was not of my making
ana was none of my business. And
what was I worrying so much
about?, you ask, and as bad as /
nate to confess tit was women.
Can you imagine any one of NV in
'elleence ever wasting any time
worrying over any one as capable of
looking after themselves under anv
ana every condition as are the wo-
men OF America today?
About the time I started TO
school the board Of education de-
cided to teach ''The Care and Fit
ness OF the Human Body" Remem-
per those little red hygiene books
we used to have? The first lesson
learned was about the evils of tioht
laclng. How I worried about that
for at that time all the girls were
strung up tighter than a concert
Ilodie. I thought what's the use of
growing up because all the girls will
elmer be dead or chronic inyalids
ana there won't be anybody to plav
around with. didn't stop to think
mat those same tightly laced girls
coulo out-ride, out-run, Guidance
ana out-Work us boys with our free
normal lungs, but I used to sit and
brood about it and let my sister
carry In the wood and water and if
the weather was too bad I couldn't
even get out in the rain and mud to
help them with the milking. And
then came the bicycle and all the
worry and abuse that followed. Now
believe me that was something. The
sermons that were preached and the
scathing editorials that were print
ed about why women should not
ride them would make worlds war
seem like a high school foot ball
game.
No doubt they were devised by the
devil and manufactured by ingen-
ious men, but neither man nor
devil ever devised a way that you
could get your arm around a girl
while she was riding one of the
darn things. And the bicycle bloom
ers? Did you ever see a pair OF