We expect Fidel Castro to lie to us. We assume Osama Bin Ladin is telling lies when he makes one of his infamous videotapes. But, are our fellow Americans feeding us fabrications on a regular basis?
Probably. Do we care? Probably not. And, that’s the sad part. We are beginning to expect a lack of truth in all segments of society, from sports to school, from the president to the preacher.
The population of Marion County hovers around 12,000 souls. What would it take to double this in the next decades? Or, is slow population decline inevitable in this region?
The second question is, does the county want growth that matches the demographics of America—meaning solid numbers of young persons in addition to retired persons?
“You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what’s a life, anyway? We’re born, we live a little while, we die. A spider’s life can’t help being something of a mess with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone’s life can stand a little of that.” —Charlotte in “Charlotte’s Web”
I’m more likely to cuss and smash a spider than quote it, but had to make the exception with Charlotte. I think it’s my age that makes me appreciate what she’s saying, which, while (I hope) isn’t necessarily old by definition, does give me access to one of the true benefits of getting older—stupidity.
I was enjoying myself at Hillsboro High School’s junior/senior/assorted underclassmen/several outside dates prom two weekends ago when I discovered that I have a serious dental emergency that I need to have looked at immediately.
Thirty years ago this week a tragedy occurred at the Hillsboro airport that is permanently etched in the minds of those who were living here at the time, including mine.
It was Tuesday, June 20, 1978, when Hillsboro businessman and pilot Paul Rundstrom, 40, and his passengers Dennis Klassen and Blaine Briggs of Hillsboro Industries and Hillsboro Distributors crashed into a wheat field shortly after 8 a.m. just south of the hedge row opening at the then grass airstrip.
Tornado tragedies in Chapman, Soldier and Manhattan last week remind us once more—as if we needed another reminder—how fragile life really is. All of us survive from one day to the next by God’s grace. Those of us still alive and safe, and with home and possessions intact, are no more worthy of our great fortune than the loss of those things indicate grievous shortcoming among the storm victims. It just happens.
For now we breathe a prayer of thanks, and keep an eye on the skies. More than that, we come to the aid of our neighbors who have not been as fortunate as we have been. We do it because we have compassion on those who hurt and grieve and need the help of others. And maybe because we know our day will come when we will require their help in our hour of need. —DR
Opinion 
