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AAR SEAS FR LE VIG Wuitsdery, March 17, 1966 $2 >OO% Port Perry Star Co. Limited Serving Port Perry, Brooklin and Surrounding Areas 4 -- PORT PERRY STAR, fooeses TOSS OPOIOOLDPODOLDD § Aaa aa aa og ag PPP aa P. HVIDSTEN, Publisher Member of the Canadian Weekly Newspaper Assoc. WM. T. HARRISON Editor Member of the Ontario Weekly Newspaper Assoc. MB a a a aa a Published every Thursday by The Port Perry Star Co. Ltd., Port Perry, Ontario. Authorized as second class mail by the Post Office Department, Ottawa, and for payment of postage in cash Subscription Rates: In Canada $3.00 per yr., Elsewhere, $4.50 per yr. Single Copy 10¢ POOP ) ~ HR Dr lh - OBC GB rrr oR POOP OOOOOOOOPOP PPP N A dd A A 8 a a a a a a a a oa a a 2 XC POP SPS DP OOP DOOO PD POPOV OPPO OOO POOO® @- TOIT OIOVITOO® SO OOYOP Speaking Of Ambulances Myr. Hugh Garner, columnist for the Toronto Telegram writes the following about this timely subject "THE ONTARIO AMBULANCE situation is a disgrace to a civilized province, and we desperately need ambulance legislation, probable subsidization through the Ontario Hospital Services Commission, enforced training of am- bulance attendants, and many more ambulances than are available today. At the beginning of 1965 Ontario had a population of nearly seven million people but only 425 ambulance opera- tors. An ambulance bill has been drafted for presenta- tion at the current session of the Ontario Legislature but what, if anything, will come of it is anyone's guess. Today, if you are the victim of a highway accident, let's say north of the village of Gargantua on the Nipiss- ing, you may just as well rely on prayer as on succor, for there have been many cases where those suffering from comparatively minor injuries have died before help has arrived, hours later. When the local ambulance does arrive it might be anything from a 13-year-old station wagon to a recondi- tioned hearse, driven by an attendant whose sole first aid supplies are a bottle of iodine and a box of Band-Aids. And his total first aid training might consist of being able to cure a White Leghorn pullet of the croup. Most of us are prone to blame the private ambulance operators, but according to a well-documented article in (A) the current Canadian Motorist, the publication of the On- ~ tario Motor League, this is unfair. The magazine men- tions a Frontenac County ambulance operator who ser- viced 1,420 calls during 1963, which should have realized him $12,281.83 in fees. He was able to collect only $1,470 from his patients. ' No law says that anvone using an ambulance has to pay for it, and as a matter of fact nine out of 10 patients never pay at all. SHULL, QTLING AMYPQNOANO? pr NIST BNYT? 10d 4 / QI IW ION - 9 I MINOW [VN Loa a a2 SHODOOOO® SOD OOPOOO® TPO ® REMEMBER WHEN? | 50 YEARS AGO 25 YEARS AGO 10 YEARS AGO I NV VV I~ AAA Aa aa a a ol CaCaOR ROR OR De® Besides some sensible legislation governing every phase of ambulance service, I would like to see something I noticed in some midwest American states. Change the provincial police cars to ambulance station wagons, as we have done here in Toronto with the fire chiefs' cars. SOME ROAD DEATHS ACTUALLY SUICIDES "Some of the deaths on our highways, perhaps 10%, are actually suicides rather than accidents," K. H. Mac- Donald, general Chairman of the Canadian Highway Safety Council told a Montreal service club last week. "Driving is, to many, a competitive sport, an outlet for the showoff. Sometimes with the younger set, it's' a desire for recognition--a reflection of emotional strain or personal defects." "Lack of common courtesy and re- spect for others is at the bottom of this." It is reported that Montreal proper has 40% more traffic fatalities than Metro Toronto--despite the fact Toronto has more vehicles. --C anadian Hignuay Safety Council Wednesday, March 15, 1916 The store and Post Office and the residence of Mr. Var- coe, Ashburn was totally des- troyed by fire. Mr. Varcoe and family narrowly escaped in their night attire. Port Perry Creamery will again open for business some time in April. The W.C.T.U. of Prince Albert have arranged a pro- gram, Those to take part in the program are, the Port Perry Male Quartette, under the leadership of Mr, H. Fol- lick, Bandmaster Roach and son Ross will assist with the cornet, March 13th, 1941 Mr. Malcolm Nasmith is in Rio de Janerio, where he is one of the crew of an Im- perial Oil Tanker. Twenty-six members of the Port Perry Farm Bureau ac- companied by Agricultural Representative E, A. Innes of Uxbridge, went to Toronto to visit the plant of Canada Packers, One of the guides that showed them through the plant was Mr. Albert Cawker who was on duty that day. Mr. and Mrs, Joe Ward, Utica moved to their new home in Brooklin, SHBG NN March 15th, 1955 At the Drama Night, held in Brock District High School, Brock district won with their play "The Pot Boiler", Barbara Love, Port Perry brought home the a- ward for the best actress. The International Plough- ing match will be held in Brooklin this year. Mr. George L. Jackson had the misfortune to fall and break his arm. Mr. Saywell"s Store in Blackstock was robbed of a considerable amount of money. BODE AHEAD SN Beene ee ODA R SHG DOE GEG ®@ DD OOPPOODPDOODP Aad AAA AY SUGAR and SPICE BATS AND BUTTERFLIES life can be a real drag. but it has its moments. aerobatics that stole the show. He swooned and swirled over audience and actors. in the world's biggest music festival. Her teacher and her mother had both is rough, AAA AAA Ad LA Aaa aa oJ By BILL SMILEY Competition A couple of them came to me this week to convince me that it's more fun to be alive and suffering than stone cod dead in the cemetery. The other night I took three busloads of students to see a play, "Murder in the Cathedral," in a neighboring town. I won't even mention what a nightmare such an excursion is for the man in crarge of a hundired-odd lively teenagers. We arrived in best clothes and best manners, ready for an evening of culture. The house lights dimmed; the stark set was revealed; the chorus came on with its brooding note of doom and death. You could have heard a feather drop as a thousand youngsters sat enthralled, Suddenly a ripple of sound went through the theatre, The ripple rapidly became a wave. The chorus, in the best stow tradition, bravely pressed on, its chant almost lost in the swelling titter, The ghost of the old opera house had taken over. He had assumed the form of a large bat. The noise and lights had frightened him out of his eyrie among the rafters. And he put on a display of He flickered through the shadows, in ever-descend- ing circles that had all the girls clutching their hair. He peeled off and dive-bombed the chorus, making it duck collectively and frantically floor- wards. He disappeared intermittently, but, a born scene- stealer, was right on cue for his entries. Thomas Beckett, Archbishop of Canterbury, intoned. "For a little time the hungry hawk will only soar and hover, circling lower . , ." And there was Mr. Bat, whistling around the actor's ears, The chorus wailed, "I have heard flut- ing in the night-time . . . have seen scaly wings slanting over." And guess who was fluting around gaily on his scaly wings, right past their noses. All in all, a diverting evening in the theatre. I won't speak for the players, but the kids and the bat loved it. My second reviving experience was nop with a bat, but a buttefly. TI think that term Hest des- cribes my 14-year-old. = She flits. She can't quite decide whether she's going to be a writer, a folk singer, a concert pianist or a basketball player, Last Saturday, I took her to the city, to compete told her she hadn't a chance, "Because you haven't worked hard enough," She was pretty jittery. Teeth chattering, great nervous yawns, four trips to the bathroom in 20 minutes. My heart bled for her. In her first class there were 12 competitiors. Guess who was last. It was for students 20 and under. They were all good. Even though I've been to a hundred festivals, and am pretty worldly, my spirits sank, for her sake. The bell clanged. She went on stage. And as I sat, turning purple while holding my breath through a Bach prelude and fugue, she played like a tiger, Second place we take. We tottered out of the auditorium in a daze, leapt into a cab, rushed to meet her Mom, and hurled her words back in her face, The kid repeated twice during the afternoon, and we arrived home after a 12-hour day and a 200- mile trip, staggering with exhaustion but flushed with triumph, Of bats and butterflies, 1 guess, is the essence of life, --Toronto Telegram News Service