The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1940-09-12
minister's salary doesn't run to
big doctors bills.

minister's salary doesn't run to
big doctors bills.
Everybody in town contributed,
because everybody in town likes
and respects the minister and his
family. Seven hundred dollars or
so was raised to pay hospital fees
and specialists from Boston. And
the boy got well.
When one church puts on an
entertainment, supper or a fair
the people of the other churches
pitch in and do their part. A week
or two ago the first prize of $500
at the Catholic fair was won by
the widow of the Episcopal bish-
op of this diocese. The Congrega-
tionalists and Episcopalians uni
ted this summer to run an out
door Bible school camp for boys
and girls.
POLICEMAN died
AS I write this I've just heard
of Tom Killfoile's death, and my
wife has started up to old Mrs.
Killfoile's house to see if there
is anything we can do. Tom was
one of her thirteen children, and
was one of the most popular
young men in the village. He was
one of the three village police
men, and directed traffic at the
danger spot where the state road
crosses a well-travelled village
street.
Last night youth of twenty,
driving his fathers car with his
mother as passenger, came down
Prospect Hill at 70 miles an hour,
dashed across the through traffic
and struck Tom Killfoile, on his
post. Toms body was hurled 81
feet. He died at 4 o'clock this
morning. The whole village is
grief-stricken, likewise seething
with indignation.
The indignation is directed to-
ward the politicians who got the
red flash-light at the crossing re-
moved because some nervous wo-
man said it kept her awake. I ex-
pect to hear some strong language
at the town board meeting next
Saturday night. Of the two mo-
theirs, Toms and the boys who
was driving the car, it is hard to
say which is the more deserving
of sympathy. What tragedy for
both of them!
AMERICANS all
Somebody referred to Mary
Consolini one day as an Italian
girl. l never saw anybody so mad
as Mary was. ''I'm Americana"
she cried. "Don't let anybody tell
you different" Her parents came
over from Italy, like many others
who were brought over to work
in the marble quarries here, but
l don't know of any better Amerl-
cans than there are among my
neighbors of italian ancestry.
/ met Sam Baldassare on the
street the other day and asked
him how his oldest son John was
doing. John used to work for me
on the farm, and after he grad
uated from the town high school
with honors he wanted to 60 to
college. I helped him get a job
in New York so he could work
his way through Fordham Univer-
sity, but I hadn't heard from him
for five years.
Sam beamed as he told me that
John had got his university de-
gree a year ago and is now stu
dying for the priesthood in a Jes-
uit seminary. "And isn't his mo-
Their proud!" he exclaimed. Sans
second son, Francis, is going to
the State College. His oldest
daughter has just graduated from
a famous training school for nurs-
es. Sam runs one of the towns
three barber shops. Paul Klien
a Jew, runs another, and Steve
Sobieski, a Pole, owns the third
Good citizens and good Ameri-
cans, all of them.
EDITOR featured
You are reading this in a small
town newspaper. Maybe you are
one of the people who think Life
in the big cities must be mucE
more interesting than in a small
town. Life depends on the liver,
an old country doctor once salt
to me. You can take that beth