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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (April 24, 1987)
Page ^/The Battalion/Friday, April 24, 1987 Opinion MAR&OUBS €>1907 HCXX>7ZM FOZT c The governor’^ ideally serious about running* the state like a business... .Ii V\/hat i-diq Mm AFTER 151 YEARS cm puaniMi* 31—Li-El Tt T M mu© p io TV is a normal part, of American life and I V adver TV. mm II NrteMMNMMMMMMMI probably mercia i„ ave tl *r to ( onvince that our current ueod< ing and lu-ithei is out n worse tliougli is that (| try to convince ns we i unlovable. No longer taking it all for granted Anne Dejoie Guest Columnist I learned the hard w ay that heart attacks don’t always happen to the old man down the street. Five years ago my dad, only 42 at the time, had two attacks, complete with a' quadruple bypass and warnings from the doctors to change his habits. As time went on, the whole thing be came a part of the past, easily recalled everytime I saw the elongated scar on Dad’s leg (where the vein was borrowed for the bypass) or heard the menacing wail of an ambulance siren. Life at the Dejoie home returned to normal — as close as it could get any way. Mom broke her ankle; Roy Jr. worked on his master’s degree; Lisa, only 17 years old, still tried to get her curfew extended; and I could see the end of my college days lurking a few months away. However Dad, seemingly healthy, de cided to have another heart attack. This attack was more serious than the first two, and Dad added muscle dam age, pneumonia and several days of ir regular heartbeats to the already com plicated situation. Mom phoned me at school to tell me that Dad was in the hospital again. At that point, nothing in the world was more important to me than being with my family. Driving to the hospital, all I could think about was what if ... ? What if he needs another bypass op eration? What if the doctors keep him in the hospital too long? What if Dad won’t be around to watch his grandchildren grow up? What if he dies? This last question, crouching in the back of my mind since Mom’s call that afternoon, sprang forward like a jack- in-the-box that had been waiting for the top to open. I couldn’t wash the horrible thought away despite the tears running down my face. Every stop light was red and every car on the road drove at what seemed like ten miles per hour, but I finally arrived at the hospital. I had only been at the hospital five minutes when Dad’s doctor came by with a report. “It doesn’t look good,” the doctor said. “I won’t lie to you. He could die.” There was that word again. I kept pushing it back and it kept springing up again. I found myself thinking of the times Dad and I had spent together and won dered if there would be more. I remembered weekends at the duck pond near our home when I was very young. Later as I grew into a teenager, Dad and I spent afternoons at the stables, or Sundays in the French Quarter in New Orleans, or summers painting the house — sharing a cold beer to keep the fumes out of our lungs (Dad’s favorite excuse). We laughed and talked and shared stories, and our friendship grew stronger. That wasn’t just my dad in intensive care, it was one of the best friends I ever had. i looked over at Mom. She always looked young enough to be my sister instead of my mom. But now she seemed to have aged 10 years in 10 minutes. Her husband was in the next room — possibly dying — but as always, she re mained in control and provided sup port for my brother, my sister and me. Watching her, I knew Dad would be proud oFTier for taking charge, and I hoped that I would be like her when 1 became a mother. And all the what ifs sprang up again. After minutes that seemed like months, I was allowed into Dad’s room. The man I saw lying on the bed wasn’t my dad — it couldn’t have been. My dad was always strong and vibrant — except for those Sunday naps on the sofa. He was the one I leaned on and turned to for help. The man I saw lying on the hospital bed with tubes and needles coming from every penetrable part of his body couldn’t have been Dad. This man, ap pearing to fight for every breath he could manuever, looked weak and scared. Yet something in his eyes comforted me and made me realize that the doc tors were in for a surprise. As Dad forced a smile to convince me that he wasn’t in pain, I saw the deter mination in his eyes — a look that told me he wasn’t going to give up easily and that he was going to make it through this ordeal — alive. I went home and prayed. We all seem to take breathing, heart beats and tomorrows for granted until they’re gone or someone we love is dy ing. We fail to say I love you as often as we should, assuming that there will be time for sentiments tomorrow. And we avoid the discussion of death unless it pertains to the man down the street or someone we’ve read about in the paper. One month and three bypasses later, Dad came home with more warnings from the doctors. My family was luckier than many. Despite wishful thinking, I know that my family is not immune to serious in jury, or. death, and I no longer take good health for granted. 1 try to make the most of every day, relishing the good things and accepting or changing the bad. Every night, I fall asleep wondering what would have happened if. . . The Battalion (USPS 045 360) Member of Texas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conference The Battalion Editorial Board Loren Steffy, Editor Marybeth Rohsner, Managing Editor Mike Sullivan, Opinion Page Editor Jens Koepke, City Editor Jeanne Isenberg, Sue Krenek, News Editors Homer Jacobs, Sports Editor And every morning, I thank ( »;>d th it I still have a father. Anne Dejoie is a senior journalism ma jor. Naturally, the the t ha nee to t >. ning out and b great many of i fall into this . these ads art i ones. Etribat ra.‘ the prize lor the ourselves by urn- their product A rv ctiftimerciab >rv. rating and ea >ilv lot the mosl sing coniine most annoy! Mai! Ca*S but most w< these ads Hi niely ik.' ample, the a i who is g telling hm v< '‘NT w, l>s.r men in r .11 .1 , '°W many of if theyreniovd gif ne from tit k> ( >nc, excep: tug these pro4 iliat anyone jaii i and fun, in high schoolr dal someoneo® t IV? Most of i intents of des! it dragged byt mething tt libitionsvai; a feminine |’- lt sudden! anything .ti i ly how gn es uncont them. Nolo it somethin, private, bit (1 of ways.! about the left With all due respect... EDITOR: I would like to apologize to Bryan Kelly coin ernimt m\ I.* u*-. m i Battalion (April 21). I now realize 1 was overly Tn lined 'i ,, mild and unoffensive letter. Ido not regret the t < ur uia !e ?; i tuv letter my harshness toward Kelly. I am sure Kelly is hoiK si .iiul j" : opinion. An honest and sincere opinion ah. •>s d« v i , .m.: i spec t S I would also like to point tmt the views presented m mv lettc-t'Jirt'^Sjttow™ it would be unfair to stereotype the othei < lul> : eh' v.-nit tuv views. 1 hope 1 have soothed any hard feelings, and any <a itu ;■ in . <: oiua t nmg rnv g over-zealousness toward Bi yan are deserved. John R. Spessard We must know to defend EDITOR: Last week, we received a two-part eyewitness reporr by (lout* 1 lianh in t The Batta/Zon concerning the communist conquest of VietHmi. ! hank you, Thanh, for making the effort to share your painful an mk • t- > T, ;; V.'e ought to contemplate your words. Thanh’s story reveals the communist ideology in actum. It is lot a reasoi that many have declared the pen to be mightier than tb< men’s actions, and it is through the medium of :1k pen ilu v an expressed The communists declare that an irreconcilable class - onf in t t xists. and i n in e the proletariat must seize power to suppress the Eoin K nee, h- \ 1 . ■ u: these'ideas have been executed. 1, these raaxi ow many tin ihat the li ttle sister won <*x back in h n sister’s face keep the n i Staiting M taxi pads. Ill there’s no . 4, we’ll all c of watchi eu mode*! lit , -ric. Good rut W’hitc it “V, heel of f ever tsUk As a history major presently studying the f’u sja ' b’evolnt mu in drpil*. 1 have been extensively reading communist theoi y. 1 dn is v, as am acted to the | Communist Party of America’s table in the Memorial Student ' '•enter lot, several hours April 14 when the party’s representatives, aloi representatives of other political groups, came to sli ir< tiu ir »<1 s w«i!' us. Many students stopped to listen and argue. Fat t(to fnany, aiteSfiudiu out that the communist viewpoint was being expounded, di .ar t-d it as load of b.s.” and walked away. Others engaged in eniotional di itrilie ; ho themselves to be far from rationality or true knowledge of the subject. One student attempted to quote Marx, but upon being ch; llenged, admitted that he had never read Marx. Few seemed to understand die read i: Communism is not “a load of b.s.” You may not agree with it. but tt is an a idea that powerfully inspires many around the world. It is not . hat ink- ;s, abstract notion but has real, discernable consequences, i ft. idea of liberty has j had consequences which we enjoy today, but how marly of us undet stand that idea so as to be able to defend it? How many of us have read our Constitution ; and Declaration of Independence and understand the signs lit a nee o! the ideas contained therein? How many of us realize how scam libt ! 1 . 1 a .s we enjoy has been throughout history? For example, in Russia’s long history, the years in which she has had a free press can be nuniU red on the ! ingei s oi two hands. but insi® live. I can live despite the embarras it J ( rh Wl! still unacce models cond < Editorial Policy 7 /ic Enttalioii is a non-profit, self-supporting newspaper oper ated as a community service to Texas A&M and Bryan-College Sta tion. Opinions expressed in The Battalion are those of the editorial board or the author, and do not necessarily represent the opinions of Texas A&M administrators, faculty or the Board of Regents. The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper for students in reporting, editing and photography classes within the Depart ment of Journalism. The Battalion is published Monday through Friday during Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holiday and examination periods. Mail subscriptions are $17.44 per semester, $34.62 per school year and $36.44 per full year. Advertising rates furnished on re quest. Our address. The Battalion, Department of Journalism, Texas A&M University, College Station, TX 77843-4 111. Second class postage paid at College Station, TX 77843. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to The Battalion, De partment of Journalism, Texas A&M University, College Station TX 77843-411 1. In athletics, it is imperative that the players thoroughly ki is also useful to study films of the opposition to know how to < effective defense. Dare we think it is any diff erent wish to preserve our liberty, we must not only essa; behind it thoroughly but also to know opposing id consequences. We cannot defend what we do not to defend against that of which we are ignorant. Does the workers’ paradise of Thanh’s homel valuable material possessions cannot protect then liberty cannot defend or propagate itself . Each g< secure the blessings of liberty to themselves and t in the MSC is any indication, we are failing to d<> must discharge this responsibility lest we, too, fin our own graves. Brian Arthur Frederick’87 : ' ys. Ij y.to understauc gas and. to observe their know and are hard-pr-- rid enchat list as out ind often n®', i to is that I iscments k' 1 (|1, j ranted, 1 have^J nnouncemen^ condoms top 11 but if we fol io iy the linger' 03 iply showing 3 nent should a ihout condo® 5 '; ocatmg the list 3. in tny four-pa^ .iouwlMS l.etters to the editor should not exceed 300 words in length- Trie editorial stuff for style and length, but will make every effort to maintain the a at hoi intent, i must include the classification, address and telephone number of.the write, l.ggmg erw ■ the right to edit h tiers j '*** «• ****•'<*■ ch letter must lu signed a nl j dqillS, CSp event human co l e*er *f*i ifpasia*^ e aria. .^ d.< foK“'l lOinotifS worth thef’ tcrall. * tl "' :veryotl*f^ n incMl cunallf* !, ad, eV£ ” J if it will ^ ■amxmmiiiiie