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Show 2 , . .jriMFANOGOS TIMKS .. . My 27, 2011 i Newspapers are at hand all the time. When you want to look up a movie, the date of that upcoming concert, the time of the ball game, etc., it is right there. Newspapers have been used to wrap things in for years and this will not be possible when all of the newspapers are gone. You can cut out pictures from newspapers and save them in a scrapbook, and there are many of those around from days gone by. Of course, you can copy the pictures or articles from the internet, too, but it is just not the same. And you certainly cannot use the internet to wrap the garbage in, although some may think there is quite a lot of garbage on the internet, too. Soon there may not be shelves of magazines or books at the stores because you can read them or get them on the internet and not even have to purchase them. Libraries, if any are left, will be filled with books generated on line, but not in hand where you can by Marcella Walker Back in 1973 I went to a Pleasant Grove City Council meeting as part of the Valley View PTA to ask for more sidewalks for the children attending that school. As a result of that I became a reporter for the Provo Daily Herald covering Pleasant Grove news. I had a degree in journalism from BYU and a lot of love for news writing. Brett Bezzant bought the Pleasant Grove Review from Jack Pace in about 1980 and he asked me to be the city editor. I served in that position until about 1999 when I retired as editor of the Review but stayed on as a writer. This experience that I had as city editor of the Review was exceptionally fun and I loved it. It was the best of both worlds. I could be a news reporter part time and a mother and wife the rest of the time. When I retired as a writer for The Review in about 2004, we had' plans to go on a mission and we did two of those and loved them both. Then our son, Calvin, who had purchased PG Printers from Jack Pace, decided to start up a weekly newspaper. Many people had told him how much they missed the Pleasant Grove Review and so he tried the venture. At this point, this old news writer was called to duty again as a news reporter and it has been a great experience. In many ways it is too bad that with the internet and all that goes with it, the country's newspapers are disappearing. Some of America's largest newspapers from the past are dwindling down to fewer and fewer readers. Newspapers have stayed alive over all these years because of peoples' desire to know what is going in their town and in the nation and in the world. But now there is the internet and all that goes with it and many people read the news on their computer rather than in a newspaper. That is sad. pick it up and read it anytime you want. News writing has been one of the funnest things I have ever done and I will love it forever. When I graduated from BYU with a degree in Journalism, I was thrilled and went right out to a job writing ads for radio at KBOI in Boise. Since then there has been work in the News Bureau at "BLAB" continued on Page 5 I - f : ! I ! ' . . v There was so much room for just two little girls. We also visited many bird nature parks. My grandma has always loved bird watching. We drove through and it was nice to have big windows to look out of. Those windows even had curtains like a house which you could draw up or down. When they got rid of that van, it was a very sad day. Now I am on the road again with my best friend and husband. We have traveled to Texas once before when we got back from our honeymoon. It was a long drive bit we did it together. Then I had to drive back to Idaho from Texas by myself. That was hard. I have to say that drivers who drive during road trips are amazing! I give them props. It is hard. That time we had walkie talkies by Marissa Moncayo As I am on the road again, I can't help but think of many road trips. I remember driving to Yuba Lake many times. Although it is not very far away, we always had to scrunch into the truck. Four tall brothers and me. I had barely any room to move my hands. I could only sit still and listen to my iPod, play the alphabet game with my brothers, or maybe read. It was always a tight fit. I remember driving the mini van. There we had plenty of room. I was always sleeping or writing. I remember us huddled around the very small TV screen trying to watch a J movie or a computer screen. We would always fight over the middle seats, although as we got older we fought over the back seats with more room to lay out and sleep. Once I went on a long road trip with my grandparents and cousin, Markee. They had a huge van. I remember that van very well. It was a favorite. It had an aisle and two rows of seats in the back I loved the set up. They had a medium sized TV where me and my cousin enjoyed many old musical videos on tape! I grew very fond of those movies and sometimes dreaded having to get out of the car to sleep. I always wanted to finish the movie, especially if it was "Camelot." I also remember that van having lights on the floor of the aisle. It reminded me of the red carpet and the whole atmosphere was like a movie theater. I really enjoyed it. and kept ourselves entertained talking to each other still. This time we are together again, making it easier for me. It is still a long trip to make. There isn't much you can do if you are the driver. He puts his music on and "Moments" continued on Page 8 Thoughts From The Garden... by Tonya LeMone "It must be July. ...everyone has mysteriously become a bicyclist." You can tell it is July at our house for a number of reasons. We hang the bunting flags, have red white and blue cookies in the cookie jar, the yellow "Live Strong" bracelet is worn by all family members and most importantly the Tour de France flag is hung on our front porch. During the month of July our television is constantly fixed to the Versus channel, which covers the Tour de France, and we begin and end our day with the results of the stage of that day. It seems that suddenly and mysteriously there are bicyclists everywhere sporting their brightly colored spandex clothing with sponsors written all over the fronts and backs of their shirts, and hi-te- helmets are worn that make us look like we have been invaded by another planet; but they haven't the technology to travel any faster than by bicycle. The interest in bicycling has suddenly come to the forefront during the month of July and novice riders have become professionals. I credit this new form of physical fitness to the Tour de France. For those who need a little history, the Tour de France is an annual race held in France since 1903. Each year the race covers approximately 2,200 miles over a period of 21 days. The three weeks usually include two rest days. The race alternates between clockwise and counter clockwise circuits throughout France, but because of the miles needed, the race will sometimes touch into other countries. The New York Times has said the Tour de France is the most physiologically demanding of athletic events. It is compared to running a marathon every day of the week for three weeks, and the total elevation of the climbs is compared to climbing Mount Everest three times. There are between 20 and 22 teams with nine riders in each team, and entry is by invitation only by the "Amaury Sport Organization." But, the real thrill is the last day when all the riders circle on the Champs-Elysee- s in Paris and cross the finish line. The term "yellow jersey" has a completely different meaning for those of us who are involved in watching the tour, and it helps to explain the "yellow, live strong" bracelet you see many fans of the tour wearing during July. I admit I get caught up in the excitement of the race towards the end and feel the agony of defeat when a rider crashes and has to drop out because his injuries are too severe to continue. My husband and son watch intently, but they are not the "novice suddenly gone pro during the Tour de France biker." They bike and train all year long and compete regularly. ; Every weekend my husband bikes the Alpine Loop. Yes, from our house in Lindon to the top of Timp why? I know not when driving the Alpine Loop makes so much more sense to me, to say nothing of the expenditure of energy it saves when driving rather than biking. When we were in Paris, we walked the Champs-Elysee- s and we could only imagine the sound of the cow bells ringing as the spectators anxiously watched the remaining members of the Tour de France take their final minutes of the grueling three weeks, watching and encouraging each rider as they would circle one more time on the tree-line- d, cobblestone streets of Paris. As I pack away the Tour de France flag until next year, I am reminded of the hard things these men have chosen to do. Then I get a little bicycle crazy myself and pull out my old ten speed bicycle, dust off the extra soft seat, put some air in the tires, and take it for a spin around the block. The entire time I am thinking to myself if I had my spandex on and had a helmet, people might take me to be a serious bicyclist, at least during the month of July, and then I reach a slight incline. I am then thrown back to reality and decide if I continue, my heart just may fail me and I would not be able to continue with my athletic sport or choice gardening, which I might add lasts much longer than 21 days. So, back home I go. I carefully fold and put the Tour de France flag away, hang my bicycle back up, and head to the garden where I know my biggest hill to climb is dealing with the snails that seem to have invaded the gardens this year. See you in the Garden.... "Backto School" j i - , ; i ...iin . . were home schooled and some were in charter schools, while others went to regular school. It was interesting to hear the boys talk about their school experience. Most lamented having to go back to school in August. Some said they hated school and dreaded going back. My heart ached for the boys who felt that way.1 We had some great discussions about learning and the opportunities they had in this great country if they were willing to work hard and study hard. Each boy had unique gifts and talents. They came in different shapes and sizes. I thought of how precious each of these boys is to their parents and in the sight of God. Some forty years ago I recall taking courses designed to prepare one to become a teacher. We visited a special school near Price, Utah. I will never forget the cute little girl playing on the swings. She was about seven or eight years old but had the mental age of a two year old. Her mother didn't want to hear her cry when she was a baby and so she sedated her by putting various drugs in her baby bottle. The drugs left permanent brain damage. While student teaching in the Jordon District at Brighton High School, I heard teachers complain about their wages, the kids, class loads, the parents and administration. I made the decision then that teaching was not about the great salary or optimal working conditions. It was about the children and if I didn't like what I saw I was welcome to pursue another career. After all this is America. When I walked into that classroom with my name at the top of the roll book, I looked across the room and saw a variety of kids. Some were there because the law said they had to come. Some came to socialize with other kids. Some came because their parents made them come. Some came because they loved school. Regardless of why they came, I was blessed to see the good in each child. One day a secretary in the office saw a child walking down mountain areas. Here it is summer time in the Rockies. My crew of young boys that helped harvest the cherries came from diverse backgrounds. I banned electronic devices so we could just talk, like the "good old days". A crew of young boys can discuss great philosophical questions and some pretty stupid things. As a young boy I remember picking fruit for various people once we finished the harvest in our orchards. We had what my Grandfather Bezzant called "early ground" and so the fruit harvest for others usually followed our harvestT One summer we picked for Jay McFarland. Mr. McFarland was a school teacher and like a lot of people back then they also had fruit trees. Working for Mr. McFarland was like going to summer school and getting paid. He was always teaching us things in his wonderful patient way. Anyway, the cherry crew got talking about school. Some by Mark Bezzant The cherries are all harvested and the ladders and picking buckets are put away for another season. Now the days will get shorter and shorter. It is hard to believe that on July 24 there was still snow on the ground at Mirror Lake. Spring flowers were just emerging. Before long there will be "frost on the pumpkin" in those high the sidewalk toward the school. She said, "Oh no, not another one of those kids." I felt sad for this young man. 1 knew his family. His older brothers had created problems in the school and community, but this boy wanted a better life and deserved one. A wonderful educator by the name of Vera Conder said to me, "Mr. Bezzant, be kind "Bezzant" continued on Page 7 --OT""- - -- - -- - -- - - : TIMPANO GQS TIME S SUBSCRIPTION : , Name: Check Check amount: i Make check payable lo "Timpanogos Times" 1 Mailing Address: CC - 1 1 year $40 2 year $77 3 year $113 4 year $152 Exp. Date CC Billing Zip. J All credit card subscriptions will be shredded 1 Mail to: 11 S. Main St. Pleasant Grove, UT 84062 (801) 785-311- 1 timpanogostimesyahoo.com vs97 , |