Opinion
It was a beautiful fall evening on the Island and I was taking an after-dinner stroll with my children. My six-year-old son, Hardy, crashed about in the woods. My daughter, Pickle, not her real name but definitely her given name, walked a few yards in front of me.
Pickle is two and a half and becoming now a small creature of the world rather than just something of my own. She walked in front of me, not even looking back to see if I were following. I felt a tug at my heart.
Ports of Call
From Gazette editions of November, 1935:
The following was sent to President Obama.
Dear Mr. President,
They came in out of the chill of a cool autumn night for the fellowship that can surround a hot meal. The Barnacle Club is the oldest running waterfront club on the Island, and its name always inspires interest. A barnacle by definition is a creature that doesn’t move a lot.
The club is made up of men who have a love for the sea and a gift for sharing their experiences on the water. Since the 1800s, the club has existed with two simple rules: no booze and no women.
The Island community has been watching with interest the dialogue between a veteran teacher credentialed by the state to be considered eligible for a position of assistant principal or principal and the public school administration. It would appear that the issue is one of “fit” on the part of administration rather than one of legally required academic credentials.
I am a lawyer, former prosecutor (assistant state attorney general, 1982-1986), and a member of a drug reform organization called Law Enforcement Against Prohibition (LEAP).
Responsible citizens should be appalled by the news from Mexico about the near 30,000 homicides committed by the drug cartels in the past three years.
People on the Cape and Islands might ask if this is our problem. Do we share the blame? Is there anything we can do about it?