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IN THIS ISSUE

• Zvonko Springer tells about helping to build a new nation
• Carol Hansen has had great success with growing tomatoes
• We get letters from Bill McNair and Kate Brookfield
• Sharon Graham sends the story of a resourceful mortician
• Miriam Ockenden forwards an important reminder
• Jack Peaker tells the story of a shoe box
• Bruce Galway´s tale is about a warm welcome for dogs
• Did you ever wonder just what Adam got for that rib?
• Carol Hansen and Don Henderson recommend interesting sites

Zvonko Springer writes: After Arthur Pays´ story about demolition, I will tell the story of how we built a new nation: Tito´s Yugoslavia.

BUILDING A NEW NATION

I got out of the POW camp on August 15, 1945. I was happy to be back home in Osijek after the most frightening and dreadful four months of my young life. Several weeks passed before I recovered part of my body weight and some strength returned after sleeping many hours in my own bed. Slowly and persistently I succeeded in burying deep in my subconscious all the horrors and humiliations I had been through.

Sometime in September of 1945 I decided to get my documents ready for entrance to the University of Zagreb. There were some initial trouble with my high school diploma, which was finally sanctioned by the new school authorities after the intervention of my former class master and an elderly colleague. Both were members of the Communist party, which I did not know during my school days. Now the way was open to start studying again, as my first attempt was abandoned after being called to army service in October 1943.

I had enrolled in the course of Civil Engineering (CE) at the Technical Faculty (TF) early in October. Soon after, I moved into a small anteroom at my aunt´s big flat in Zagreb. I was a conscientious student, attending all lectures prescribed for the CE´s course of study. I got up early to be at the faculty´s auditorium well before the lectures started. Lectures for mathematics or physics were attended by all TF´s first year students in Mechanical, Electrical, and Civil departments. There were over 800 freshmen who wanted to find a place in the auditorium that could accommodate 400 students at its maximum capacity.

The hall was not heated despite the cold winter, so we sat in our heavy coats and boots (if we had them!) and tried hard to hear the lecture; writing anything down was hardly possible unless you got a comfortable place on a bench. The only heavy coat that would fit me was father´s green "Hubertus Loden" that I almost wore out over three winters.

The first heavy blow to my newly acquired peace of mind came during all TF´s Students Club first convention late in November. The convention was held in the Workers´ Union biggest hall that held some 800 people. The hall was overcrowded by students and certainly by a large number of Communist Party activists. It lasted some nine hours, during which time many harsh words, shouts, and threatening activities took place, bringing the audience to a frantic and anxious state. The beaten-up and chased-out ones were all "Enemies of the People" or "Collaborators of the Occupation" or "War Criminals". I could not understand who made the accusations and why they were performed in such a brutal way, being accompanied by shouts of "Throw him out the window!" or "Beat him to death!" I kept my profile as low as possible, waited for a cooling off, and then by good luck disappeared unnoticed in the mass of other students leaving the convention.

The summer semester was coming to its end when a large notice appeared, calling for volunteers to join the students´ Work Brigade. I knew that it was essential for my study´s continuation to present myself to the Brigade command, and to my surprise I was accepted immediately. My political past - the "black blot" on my soul as a survivor and eyewitness - was catching up with me, despite all my endeavors to keep a very low profile. My father was still an active lawyer who would not stop showing his aversion to any totalitarian regime, like the fascists before or communists now. Lawyers and priests were the only free professions - everything else was nationalized and had to serve the Peoples´ new government. It was high time to show my loyalty to the new regime and actively contribute to the building of the New Nation.

My voluntary work would begin on the construction of the Brcko- Banovici railway lin in the summer.A new railway line of normal 1435 mm gauge had to be constructed from Brcko via Lukavac to an open-air mine of young brown coal at Banovici. The new mine was close to the Konjuh Mountain, which played an important role during the partisans´ war in 1942/43.

The summer semester ended in June and I returned home to pick up my luggage before joining the brigade. We got free railway passage from home to Zivinice, where we were supposed to join the first Students´ Brigade, "Krsto Ljubicic", named after a Partisan war hero. I took some old civilian clothes, a pair of old hiking boots, and most important, utensils and "iron rations" of food for a stay in camp. I packed all my goods in the rucksack that had accompanied me on that deadly march of a year ago. That experience would help me a lot during the next two months of my "voluntary" work to build the New Nation.

To be continued.

Carol Hansen, who lives on Long Island in New York, is proud of her

TOMATOES

{Click on any image to see a larger version.}

She writes: Another frost last night. I hope to get out and get the tomato plants pulled today. I am not sure how many there are - a dozen, give or take, but everyone thinks there is "magic" in that little 4´x4´ plot because I do everything "wrong": I have them crowded close together, fertilize more than I should (some say), and NEVER pinch back or prune. My crop this year? Well over 300 tomatoes!

I made quite a bit of sauce to freeze, and tomato/rice soup, too. I gave away maybe two dozen and that´s all. My son here on LI doesn´t eat them and there´s only so many his wife can eat!

This land was farmland more than 50 years ago. Potatoes and cauliflower were grown here, but surely that´s not the reason the tomatoes grow so well. I´ve tried other crops that didn´t do well at all.

My neighbour around the corner had a nearly-prize-winning pumpkin - 1,249 pounds! His brother helped him use a mechanical hoist to lift the pumpkin from his 50-by-27-foot patch in the backyard of his Commack home and onto the bed of his 1986 Chevy pickup.

Oh, my largest tomato was 1 lb. 7 oz, but it was not a prize winner either. The winner was huge ... but it was three conjoined tomatoes and I didn´t think that was fair.

P.S.: This story reminds me of Geoff Goodship´s tomato-growing prowess. How was your crop this year, Geoff?

CORRESPONDENCE

Bill McNair writes about what his city is doing about salvage:

A couple years ago I was into anti-nuclear furnaces for Hydro here in Ontario, and was given the name of the nuclear waste manager for Ontario: John Hunt. Mr. Hunt mentioned that Europe had been burning their waste for quite some time. They heat it to few degrees below the actual burning with fire, and cause it to decompose and use it for fertilizer. I mentioned this to both Hamilton councillors and to Ottawa, via a columnist in Ottawa. I´m not aware of what happened in Ottawa, but Hamilton is doing something quite similar: they put the yard and food waste into a large enclosure, use heat to decompose it, and then dry and sell it to farmers and others for fertilizer. This has been going on for some years now. This has to be a sensible way of making city garbage dumps last many years longer as most cities are running out of areas to use as a garbage dump sites.

We also have a green cart for yard and food waste; two blue boxes, one for paper and the other for plastic, cans, and glass bottles for recycling; paper bags for more yard waste only; and a garbage can or black bags for other things to go to a dump site.

Kate Brookfield comments on articles in last week´s issue:

Interesting to read about Arthur Pays helping to build Nissan homes for the homeless after the war ended. We were just talking about how the UK provided homes so nobody was living on the streets after the war. The government found money to build these ´temporary´ homes. I am corresponding with a computer friend in England who still lives in one and was concerned because they were talking about demolishing them. She has a lovely garden and wants to stay where she is.

In my home town in the north of England, they have demolished most of the Nissan homes, but they have kept a row as ´heritage´ properties for historical reasons.

I don´t know why we can´t build such homes in Canada and try to get some of the street people in homes. Many don´t want them ... but most do! But we are too capitalistic and our social conscience is all based on money.

Secondly, also in the UK, old people living alone have alarm systems installed in their homes linking the occupant with help. My mother had one installed by the local council. It was a red chain, like the old fashioned toilet chain! When I went to pick her up to take her on holiday to stay with us, she pulled the chain and told them that she was going away for a week. Again, this service was free paid for out of taxes. No reason why we couldn´t have the same service ... if security systems were not controlled by the commercial world.

ED. NOTE: Speaking of commercial systems, I read an ad in the latest CARP magazine for an alert system which may answer the need of some older people living alone. The initial cost is $300 for the unit, and $18 a month for 24/7 monitoring. The url for this company is http:// www.directalert.ca/

Sharon Graham sends this story, which should have been in last week´s issue:

A SIMPLE SOLUTION

A man who just died is delivered to a Kentucky mortuary wearing an expensive, expertly tailored black suit. Bubba, the mortician, asks the deceased´s wife how she would like the body dressed. He points out that the man does look very good in the black suit he is already wearing. The widow however, says that she always thought her husband looked his best in blue, and that she wants him in a blue suit.

She gives Bubba a blank cheque and says, "I don´t care what it costs, but please have my husband in a blue suit for the viewing."

The woman returns the next day for the viewing. To her delight she finds her husband dressed in a gorgeous blue suit with a subtle chalk stripe; the suit fits him perfectly. She says to Bubba, "Whatever the cost, I´m very satisfied. You did an excellent job and I´m very grateful. How much did you spend?"

To her astonishment, Bubba presents her with the blank cheque. "Dere´s no charge," he says.

"No, really, I must pay you for the cost of that exquisite blue suit!" she says.

"Honestly, ma´am," Bubba says, "it didn´t cost me a ting. You see, a deceased gentleman of about your husband´s size was brought in shortly after you left yesterday, and he was wearing an attractive blue suit. I asked his missus if she minded him going to his grave wearing a black suit instead, and she said it made no difference as long as he looked nice.

"So I just switched the heads."

Miriam Ockenden sends this timely reminder:

FLU TIME IS COMING

Choose your partners, one and all,
Aspirin, Advil, Tylenol.
Now fling those covers with all you´ve got,
One minute cold, next minute hot.

Circle right, to the side of the bed,
Grab the tissues and the Sudafed.
Back to the middle and don´t goof off;
Hold your stomach and - cough, cough, cough.

Forget about slippers, dash down the hall,
Toss your cookies in the shower stall.
Remember others on the brink,
Wash your hands - wash the sink.

Wipe the door knob - light switch too.
By George, you´ve got it - you´re doing the flu.
Some like it cold, some like it hot,
If you like neither - get the shot!

(No viruses found in this message, but get a flu shot anyway!)

Jack Peaker forwards the story of

THE SHOE BOX

A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years. They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little old woman had a shoe box in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.

For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover. In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoe box and took it to his wife´s bedside.

She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box. When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a stack of money totaling $95,000.

He asked her about the contents.

"When we were to be married," she said, " my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll."

The little old man was so moved he had to fight back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two times in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness.

"Honey," he said, "that explains the dolls, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?"

"Oh," she said, "that´s the money I made from selling the dolls."

Bruce Galway forwards this one:

DOGS WELCOME

A man sent a letter to a small hotel in a town he planned to visit on his vacation.

He wrote: "I would very much like to bring my dog with me. He is well- groomed and very well behaved. Would you be willing to permit me to keep him in my room with me at night?"

An immediate reply came from the hotel owner, who wrote:

"I´ve been operating this hotel for many years. In all that time, I´ve never had a dog steal towels, bedclothes, silverware or pictures off the walls. I´ve never had to evict a dog in the middle of the night for being drunk and disorderly. And I´ve never had a dog run out on a hotel bill. Yes, indeed, your dog is welcome at my hotel. And if your dog will vouch for you, you´re welcome to stay here, too."

This story explains a lot:

LOST CHAPTER OF GENESIS

Adam was hanging around the garden of Eden feeling very lonely. So God asked him, "What´s wrong with you?" Adam said he didn´t have anyone to talk to. God said that He was going to make Adam a companion and that it would be a woman.

He said, "This pretty lady will gather food for you; she will cook for you; and when you discover clothing, she will wash it for you.

"She will always agree with every decision you make and she will not nag you and will always be the first to admit she was wrong when you´ve had a disagreement. She will praise you!

"She will bear your children and never ask you to get up in the middle of the night to take care of them.

"She will never have a headache and will freely give you love and passion whenever you need it."

Adam asked God, "What will a woman like this cost?"

God replied, "An arm and a leg."

Then Adam asked, "What can I get for a rib?"

Of course the rest is history....

THIS WEEK´S SITES

Carol Hansen recommends this site for a roundup of can art:

Don Henderson writes: Maybe you´ve seen this before but it´s a great way to check your watch/computer clock/ etc., and see how the world changes every second:

Did you know that recorded floods, hurricanes, and other natural disasters nearly doubled between 1987 and 2006? The number of people affected by these disasters increased by more than 10 percent, representing 3.8 billion lives, or more than half of humanity. - World Watch Magazine