Originally broadcast on CHED radio Sunday August 12th, 1964

At least once every two years, I thumb through the old family photograph album.  This precious volume has been in the family for fifty years and it was passed on by my mother to me.  there is one picture in this album that always gives me pause for thought.  It's a photograph taken at my grandfathers modest farm in Innisfail.  In the picture are twenty seven brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, and cousins, all in one place at the same time.  The picture was taken in the early thirties when cars were slow and not too dependable and roads were gravelled, and could be counted on to be dusty and dirty.  And yet, somehow, because we all cared, we managed to get together three or four times a years, for a sort of a family reunion.  Some of the old-timers in the picture are gone but youngsters have come along to fill in the gaps.  And yet, today when cars can travel swiftly and roads are smooth and straight; when the Bay of Fundy is only four hours from Vancouver Island; we never manage to get together.  Each of us claims to be too busy to "get down there for the weekend".  And so weeks slip into months and months into years, and the family grows farther and farther apart.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada June 26,1964

Let me tell you how my day went.  I didn't sleep well last night.  My bed was lumpy.  It hasn't been properly made for the last while.  The radio told me I was twenty minutes behind schedule.  I forgot th wind the clock last night.  I went to the drawer for a clean handkerchief.  There was none. I selected the last pair of socks from my drawer but there was a hole in one toe.  I had to wear the same shirt I wore yesterday because the soiled ones had not been sent out to the laundry.  I went to the kitchen to fix a little breakfast.  Bacon and eggs.  (How long has it been since I ate something that wasn't fried?)  The frying pan was dirty and sitting in the sink with last nights dinner dishes.  The Ivy plant on the window ledge looked rather sick.  I had forgotten to water it. I looked out the windows and noticed that the flower beds were in much the same state.  They looked as neglected as they were.  I thought again about the inner man and decided a little light breakfast food would do.  I poured out a bowl of corn flakes and went for the milk.  I had forgotten to put out the bottles.  I planned to try and catch a bite at coffee time.  My suit looked a little wrinkled.  I hadn't remembered to send it to the cleaners.  At the end of the day I went home to the empty drawers, the dirty frying pan and dishes, the empty milk jug, the dying ivy and the limp flower beds and I thought to myself, life just isn't worth living when the little woman takes a week off to visit Aunt Martha.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada January 22,1964

The late John Barrymore uttered a great deal of nonsense in his lifetime.  He lived high and hard and to many his life would appear to be an abominable waste.  He did however say one thing that I shall never forget.  Barrymore said "Happiness usually comes into a door you never knew you left open"!  My goodness isn't that true?  All of us are inclined to hunt and chase happiness.  We think we find it in pretentious homes, in the latest model cars, and cocktail and dinner parties, and all the many gadgets with which we clutter up our lives. Yet who among us cannot reflect on the real happy times.  They are so few yet so precious.  The moment we gaze upon our first born.  The quiet moments beside the fireside when the youngsters have been tucked in.  The gentle snow falling outside on a crisp Christmas eve.  Long hours beside still waters.  Gentle words and held hands by candlelight in some small warm cafe.  The smell of fresh bread.  The feeling of crisp sheets.  The look of checked tablecloths.  The taste of warm coffee on a cold morning.  The tender kiss of a child.  The sound of those three wonderful words, "I love you".  These are the times to enjoy and remember.   These are the moments that enrich our hurried lives. Yes, happiness does come in through a door we didn't even know we left open.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada in 1964

I take a lot of ribbing at my house because I like filmed westerns.  I guess they are an escape for me as they are for many men.  Maybe they remind us of those glorious years we went through when we were kids, when we wanted nothing in life so much as to be a cowboy.  However, I pick up a lot of good ideas from some of these cowboy shows.  For example, this quote from big Ben Cartwright.  Ben said, "The hurt you feel when you tell the truth is a little shorter and less painful than the hurt you feel when you don't face the truth".  That line struck trip hammer hard and I immediately wrote it down.  How much simpler life would be if we would face the truth.  So often in our lives we turn away from the facts as we know them to be, simply because we know the truth will hurt someone else, or sometimes ourselves.  So many people today go through life living a complete lie.  When unpleasant situations arise at work or in the home, they turn away, hoping that time will change things.  So often people say things they don't mean and do things to which they are opposed simply because they can't bring themselves to look at the situation clearly and objectively.  And so they go on, waiting for the miracle that never comes.  I know it is not often easy to hurt someone with the truth but in most cases the truth is what is most urgently needed to clean up the conflicts in our lives.  Truth will often hurt, but always remember those words of Ben Cartwright.  "The hurt you feel when you tell the truth is a little shorter and a little less painful than the hurt you feel when you don't face the truth".

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada in 1963

This thought is directed to fathers.  It could just as well apply to mothers.  Ask any father if his son loves him.  He will answer something like this.  "Certainly, I'm his father aren't I".  Well I think it's a great mistake to take the love of your child for granted.  I feel a father has to work for a child's love, he has to earn it.  The accident of birth does not give him the right to assume the child must love him.  Yet how many of us really set about to earn the love and respect of our children?  We bring home the groceries. We pay the rent.  We sign the report card and dole out the allowance.  But a child's needs to go much deeper than this.  We must get to know these little people.  We must somehow identify with them.  We have to know their strengths and their weaknesses.  We have to share their successes and their heart breaks.  We have to dream when they dream and sometimes cry when they cry.  We must shape opinions, we must mould and we must guide for we are the example after which the child will pattern himself.  It's a big order, isn't it?  How few of us ever stop to think of the tremendous trust given us in our children.  Father, and mother, don't take your child's love for granted.  Set out each day to EARN it.  If at times you find this hard, try to picture your life WITHOUT your children.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada in 1963

A man came into my office about a year ago.  He was perhaps 34 years old.  He needed a shave, his shoes were unsigned, and his clothes, although stylishly cut, we're threadbare and soiled. He told me his story and a sad tale  it was.  He had just come out of a correctional institution.  He had lost his last three jobs because of alcohol.  His wife and child had left him and he was completely alone.  He had $.20 in his pocket and apologize for his appearance, explaining that he hadn't had the price of a room the previous night so had walked the streets.  He was a defeated, but pleasant, and I must say talented young man.  I reviewed his record with my superior and we both agreed that on the strength of his record, we had no right even talking employment.  I said to my boss, "this guy really needs a break.  He is as down and out as any man I've ever seen.  If we don't give him a break, who will"?  My superior, a very humane guy, agreed we should take a chance and hire him on for three months.  This we did.  At the end of two months we felt we might have a winner, but then one night he disappeared with a staff car and the next thing we knew he was in jail for drunk driving and for failing to report an accident.  I guess deep down both the boss and I knew it would turn out this way, but what do you do when a fellow human being needs "one more chance"?  I know a man who has devoted his whole life to helping men whom other men have written off as "derelict".  What would I do if my friend again appeared on the scene?  I think I'd try to give him another chance.  So often in my life I repeat the old phrase, "there but for the grace of God go I".

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada in 1964

A little journey into the nostalgia today.  When I was a kid, I used to look forward to Saturday because that was the day my father took us to the market garden.  It was an exciting place full of all kinds of wonderful smells and sounds.  It was one of the biggest buildings in our city then, with what appeared to me to be miles of low counters stuffed with fresh vegetables, fruit, homemade candy, jars of preserves, boxes of honeycomb, flowers, both real and artificial, fresh killed turkeys and geese with their heads neatly wrapped in brown paper, and a thousand other things to tempt the shoppers. Behind each booth stood a contingent of farmers-turned-merchants.  The ladies were always huge and wore colorful scarves wrapped around their heads and the gentleman wore large mustaches curled up at the ends.  Most of these good souls were from Europe and as we passed by each stall, we'd here animated conversations in 20 different tongues.  The market garden was sort of a roofed-in year-round country fair, and to me it was always exciting and friendly.  I remember how we'd always take a walk through the parking area, where ancient trucks or teams of horses would be tied up awaiting completion of the days business inside. Alongside many of the wagons we'd find wooden boxes containing small puppies or kittens or live foul, and every week we begged father for a pup, and every week he'd say" maybe next Saturday".  The old market still stands in my town, but there is talk of tearing it down. Those wonderful merchants have been sort of crowded out and frankly, I think we're a little poorer for it.  The market always remind me, even as a kid, that we do indeed spring from the soil, live by it, and ultimately returned to it.  I'd be sorry to see it go.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada in 1963

On my uncle's farm there stood a tall and ancient pine tree.  I remember back 30 years and it was a towering tree even then.  Three of us would join hands to see if we could encircle it's trunk.  During high winds, it was the one tree that never seem to lose branches.  It bore the scars of several direct hits by lightning.  I love that old tree for it seemed to me that nothing could really harm it.  Nature sent its worst against it time and time again, yet it still stood there, tall and strong and straight.  I went back to see the old tree this summer. It was leveled to the ground.   I looked closely at it and saw what had happened.  An army of beetles had burrowed through it's bark and attacked it's very heart.  Little by little they chewed away at this great tree until it crumbled and fell to earth.  Lightning and wind and the passing of time could never harm this tree, yet those small bugs, which you could squash between your fingers had brought it down.  I thought to myself, how like human beings that old tree was.  Somehow we survived the major storms of life.  Business failures, the death of those near and dear to us, the disappointments and heartbreaks we all have to face seldom bring us to our knees.  It's those beetles of day to day worry that eventually kill us.  We handle the big troubles only to succumb to the small.  We clear the high fences, then stumble over the low rails.  If you are a worrier, think about that old tree.  There is a good lesson there if you'll but heed it.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada in 1963

There is one all important law of human conduct.  If we obey the law, we shall almost never get into trouble.  In fact, that law, if obeyed, will bring us countless friends and constant happiness.  But the very instant we break that law, we shall get into endless trouble.  The law is this: Professor William James says:  "The deepest principle in human nature is the craving to be appreciated".

The unvarnished truth is that almost every man you meet feels himself superior to you in some way; and a sure way to his heart is to let him realize in some subtle way that you recognize his importance in his world, and recognize it sincerely.  Remember what Emerson said: "Every man I meet is in some way my superior;  and in that I can learn of him."

You don't have to wait until you are ambassador to France or chairman of the clambake committee of the Elks club before you use this philosophy of appreciation. You can work magic with it almost every day.  Little phrases like "I am sorry to trouble you", "would you mind", " thank you", - little courtesies like that oil the cogs of the monotonous grind of everyday life - and incidentally, they are the hallmark of good breeding.

Would you like to know how to make a woman fall in love with you?  Well, here is the secret.  It is not my idea.  I borrowed it from Dorothy Dix.  She once interviewed a celebrated bigamist who had won the hearts and bank accounts  of 23 women.  (And by the way, it ought to be noted that she interviewed him in jail).  When she asked him his recipe for making women fall in love with him, he said it was no trick at all:  all you had to do was talk to a woman about herself.

And the same technique works with men;  "Talk to a man about himself", said Disraeli, one of the shrewdest men who ever ruled the British Empire, "and he will listen for hours".

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada in 1964

A few weeks ago I drove with my family over the Banff - Jasper highway, surely one of the most beautiful spots in the world.  The passes are high through there, and often you find yourself up at or beyond the timberline.  The trees are mostly evergreens and they are small, round and perfectly straight.  There are millions of them on each mountainside, crowded so closely together that it would be hard to walk through them.  I noticed that all of the lower branches of the trees were dead.  The only branches that showed life with those at the top of the tree.  Smaller trees, those which couldn't reach up to the light had died completely.  I looked at those forests and I thought how like people those trees are, each one striving for a place in the sun, each one looking for a little light and a little warmth.  In this rough, tough competitive world we all must find our spot. Too many of us are like the little trees that can't break out of the mass and wither away and die in obscurity, lost and unlamented.  In our day to day dealings with people, I think it is well to remember that everyone needs some recognition, the girl who sets your hair, the man who adjusts your carburetor, the clerk who sorts the files, the operator who answers the phone, all have to feel necessary.  Like the trees on the mountain-side if we find a little place of our own, if we can find OUR place in the sun, then we can grow to be worthwhile human beings.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada in 1963

Mother, how often did you say it?  How often did you say "Boy, will I be glad when they're both off to school...out from under my feet".  To you that was to be the 'D' day for deliverance,...your time of liberation...the day when you'd be free of those yelling, kicking, crying, cookie-begging, little characters who gave you no piece from sun-up till sunset.  Well, many of you have had your big day, but it wasn't all like you thought it would be, was it?  There was probably a big lump in your throat as you dressed the second little boy for his first day of school, and you wondered where the years had gone since the day you brought him into the world.  And big brother...(it's old hat for him - heck he's in grade four now)...he stands by to teach the little guy the ropes...and he even forgives his little brother a few anxious tears.  Big brother stands by at the appointed time, takes little brother by the hand and with shining morning faces, they start off across the busy thoroughfare...into a new world.  You no doubt stood by the window and  watched them go and wondered what had happened to your big day...how come no cheering...no music...no streamers...only a pang of regret and bewilderment.  You look again and you think maybe you can see a tear in the little man's eye...and to you...your six-year-old never looked so small - and you fight back your own tears and the urge to run after him and bring him back home.  You watch till they are out of sight...then you sit down and drink the last cup of morning coffee and say a silent prayer and ask God to look after your littlest angel, and pray that he'll learn the ways of the world well...but gently.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada in 1963

A friend and I were talking the other day about the kind of world in which our children are growing up.  We were lamenting the fact that there were so many things about which these kids would not know. To mention just a few, did you ever spend a cold winter night on the farm, and off in the distance, when the night was dark and cool, you'd hear the whistle on the train, a long and lonely whistle that would trigger all kinds of wonderful dreams?  You'd hear that lonesome wail as you snuggled deeper into the feather tick and you'd wonder where the train was going and what famous people might be on board.   Well, that great sound is gone forever.  It has been replaced by something that could be a bus horn or a truck, a big ugly puff of sound that just hasn't the appeal of the old train whistle.  My friend mentioned too, that our kids have never seen a streetcar.  That means they've never had the great fun of flipping trolleys.  Boy, that used to be our favorite outdoor sport up on 124th St. at 8th Avenue.  All you had to do was pull the guy wire that was attached to the post supporting the trolley wires, and off would pop the trolley.  Sounds silly now, but it was great fun then.
Oh, there are a lot of things our kids will miss.  Things like running boards where you could hang on while your Dad drove the car at 10 miles an hour.  Rumble seats...where you stay even if you froze to death, the friendly, warm flicker of a coal oil lamp on your Grandpa's farm, wind-up Victrola's and Tiger Moth's, open cockpit airplanes where you could actually SEE the pilot and you would always wave, but he would never wave back.
Yes, these things our kids will never know.  Somehow today I get the feeling that things are moving too fast...or am I just slowing up?

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio - September 14th, 1960

I noticed an ad in the paper last night....FOR SALE..... one baby's bed.  Imagine, someone wants to sell a baby's bed.  But this just isn't right somehow.  That little bed holds too many precious memories.  True, it's not much to look at, but oh, the stories it could tell.  The painted rabbits and cherubs that used to fly about the headboard are faded and gone now, but that's easy to explain.  Don't you remember when the little one was so sick and you had to have the steamer on night and day and speaks to the lonely vigil and waited for the crisis to pass?  That, plus small, patient, prying fingers have taken their toll of these once bright decorations.  And look at the guard rail, once so straight and bright and new.  Look at the many little teethmarks there where the paint has been chewed away.  That rail played its part in helping a smallmouth push through a tiny tooth or two.  The spring is a little worse for wear...but then it should be, for didn't baby use it as a trampoline for two years?  Yes...there are so many memories here.  Memories of years of tucking in...of kissing good night...countless middle of night drinks of water...of damp, tussled heads in the heat of summer and cold, pink cheeks and noses when the frost was on the window...of infant smells like Johnson's Baby Powder and Babies Own soap, memories of pink blankets that started out straight but ended up in a small irregular ball in the corner of the crib...of small behinds pushed into the air, with knees pulled up tight and faces buried in downy pillows...of laughter...of tears...of hopes...of prayers...of fears.  No, you can't sell a baby's bed without tearing your heart half out.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada in 1963

I sat at my typewriter recently hoping an idea would come for one of these short inspirational articles.  My eyes wandered and I noticed a small boy perched on a high board fence across the way.  He dangled his legs over the side of the fence as if to jump, then pulled them back again.  He sat a few moments, then again prepared to make the leap, and again retreated.  Finally he bit his lower lip, threw his legs over the side and down he plunged to the ground below.  He got up, brushed himself off and whistling happily, trotted off down the street.  He had met the challenge of the high fence and in spite of his fear had made the jump and one more obstacle to growing up was behind him.  You know childhood is a time of faith and energy.  Each challenge as it comes along is met and overcome.  But as we grow older we often lose ours zest for meeting and beating the things that stand in our way impeding our progress.  Instead of overcoming these obstacles, we move cautiously around them, avoiding them completely if we can.  This is unfortunate, for if life remains a challenge; if we have the heart and the zest for life we see in small children, then indeed we never ever really grow old.   Regardless of your years, youth is yours as long as you meet and regard each day as a delightful and rewarding experience.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada in 1963

Most modern cities have laid down some hard and fast rules about the handling of garbage. I know in my town the citizens are forced to be downright clinical about this business. Indeed it is often difficult to determine whether that neat little package on the signboard is a box lunch, laundry fresh from the plant, or the leavings of last nights table going out to the refuse can. This new approach to the old problem of garbage carries itself to the extreme when we come to deal with the leaves we rake up off the lawn in the fall. That's where I got into trouble last fall.  In our town the leaves are to be raked up and neatly placed in containers to be left for pick up. (For this purpose most folks use those plastic bags that the dry cleaning comes back in). Now to me there is no smell in the world like that of clean burning leaves in the crisp fall air, and so after filling three bags with leaves, I neatly piled a few I had left over and set them afire. To escape detection, I performed this deed late in the evening under cover of darkness. Nevertheless, I got caught. The magistrate before whom I appeared must have been a man with a soul because when I told him I just wanted to smell Burning leaves a few more times before I passed on, he smiled and said he fully understood. He went on to explain however that the law has to be upheld and fined me five dollars. I have thought that whole matter over since then and come to the conclusion that it was the best five dollars I ever spent.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. Undated.

Streets of Miami

As Willie walked out on the streets of Miami,

He said to himself this is some fancy town,

The calendar says it’s the middle of winter,

But not one single snow flake comes fluttering down.

Back home all his people were slipping and sliding,

While council debated on just what to do.

Then Bill phoned the council, told them to forget it,

Said he’d book them all in at the old Fontenblue.

But council declined his worships kind offer,

Told him to get back on the next northbound flight,

The budget was shot on the road cleaning project,

With this street cleaning business, just nothings gone right.

But Willie said boys don’t give in to this panic,

I have a plan that is really the thing.

I’ll see that the sidewalks and roads are all cleared off,

The name of my plan is a season called spring.

But Willie came back from the streets of Miami,

To snow drifts and ice ruts and piles of snow.

Tho’ tanned up and healthy with vim and with vigour,

How to deal with snow clearance, he still doesn’t know. 

He should have stayed down in that town called Miami,

Down where sun shines 50 weeks every year.

He might as well stay way down south in Miami,

For all the road clearing he’s doing up here.

So pile the snow high boys...up to the sky boys,

They’ll lick the problem, they will never fear.

Each road is a beaut now, the problems acute now,

But Willie will solve it come springtime this year.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. Undated.

In an article in the Edmonton Journal Saturday evening, City Planner William Hardcastle stated that there exists in Edmonton “an extremely low standard of design in many downtown buildings.” He named the new Empire Block and the new Bank of Montreal classic examples of bad design. Here, here Mr. Hardcastle. All the Empire Block needs is bars on the windows and it could pass for a jail. The Bank of Montreal, with its bile green exterior is an eye sore on the face of the City. Mr. Hardcastle stated that City Council never took seriously his objection to the designs of some buildings on which his department wanted to withhold development permits. What a pity. We have to face it. This growing city IS ugly. There is filth and dirt everywhere you look. For eight months a year we are faced with mountains of snow and in spring and fall with thousands of acres of mud and slush and muck. And then we compound all these natural conditions by allowing companies to put up monstrosities like the Empire Block and the Bank of Montreal. Why do so many Canadians feel it’s a little “sissy” to have an appreciation for beauty? Is it that too few of us have ever seen beautiful buildings, parks in the City Centre, malls filled with flowers, boulevards lined with trees? These things can be done if enough people care. We don't have to have a city of tall, grey, bleak, ugly, boxes like the Empire Block. There is nothing we can do about the buildings that have now been built. We’re stuck with them for another hundred years, but for heavens sake let’s give Mr. Hardcastles department some support from here on in. We’re building for tomorrow, so let’s build for beauty not for ugliness.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. Undated.

Remember always that TODAY is the fulfillment of the promise made by your YESTERDAY...and TODAY is the foundation of your happiness of TOMORROW.

Today is a day for happiness, peace, prosperity, success, growth, progress, change, and thanksgiving for your blessings. Today is your opportunity to give expression to the life of God, to the love of God, to the light of God, to the peace of God, to the power of God...all of which you must know if your rightful heritage as a beloved child of the one Father.

Let's not procrastinate. Let us not put today’s joys off until tomorrow. Today’s need for happiness is today’s assurance that the source of happiness is at hand, is within each one of us. Today is sufficient unto itself. Today is blessed and a blessing. Let it bring us fulfillment. Let it reward us with the good of the present moment. 

Today is whatever is before you, first tune yourself in on God through a period of quiet meditation and prayer. Then buoyed up by the courage and confidence such prayerful communion can bring to you, you can step forth to meet whatever problem or condition lies before you. With the wisdom of God to guide you, you need never feel at a loss as regards any situation, you need never feel unequal to any demand that may be made upon you. Through prayer, you are tapping the infinite wellspring of Divine wisdom...and through prayer you will make your TODAYS wonderfully happy, building upon them the joy of your TOMORROWS.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. April 1964. Labeled #01a

When I went to work in the morning, the trees were there. It was autumn and their leaves were a riot of colour. There were about fifty trees in all on the boulevard, skirting the main artery into the city centre. The trees had been there as long as I could remember. I used to watch them in the spring for they seemed to be the first trees in the city to announce the season with a suggestion of green. During the summer the tall trees provided shade for the boys and girls from a nearby factory, as the enjoyed their lunch on the green grass under their boughs. It was autumn now, and the trees were brilliant with colour, accented by the morning sunrise. That night, when I drove home, the trees were gone. The earth lay in great ruptures, black and barren. I assumed at the time that the city was going to widen the road. Six years have passed but nothing more has been done. Again and again this is happening in city after city. Parks torn up and trees rooted out all in the name of progress. Where yesterday we had a park, flowers, trees and tranquility, today we have a ribbon of concrete jammed with automobiles. There is little enough beauty in most western Canadian cities, and yet we stand by and let administration destroy what we have, to build bigger and better roads, and often for no apparent reason at all. A concerned citizenry is the only safe-guard against the appropriation of parkland.  I’ll concede we need to solve the traffic problem, but not at the expense of what little beauty we have left.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. January 1964. Labeled #07a

When your road of life leads all uphill

And you feel that you can’t go on,

When the path you walk is hard and cruel, 

And you long for the night, not the dawn, 

Find someone who loves you and test that love,

He’ll pick you up if you fall.

If you give him a chance, he’ll show his worth,

Find that someone who loves you, and bawl.

No man’s been made who can take on the world

And not get hurt now and then,

And it matters not how oft you go down,

As long as you get up again.

Just keep remembering the someone who cares,

Who’ll hear you whenever you call....

So if now and then, life becomes too much,

Find that someone who loves you...and bawl.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. January 1964. Labeled #06b

A very encouraging public opinion poll was taken recently at the annual convention of the Catholic Youth Organization, attended by 7,000 young people at the Hilton Hotel in New York City. The modern teenager, understandably bewildered by the peccadillos of playboys and people in high places such as John Profumo and Bobby Baker and Richard Burton...is still convinced he can conquer the world of tomorrow. “People in high places go haywire,” said Roseanne Gargan of Denver. “Some of these people,” she went on to say. “adopt the lowest moral standard. Somehow, for a while at least, a kid’s ideas of right and wrong go down the drain.” Charles Rucker, 17, of Omaha, pondered this question. “Should you cheat just because it seems the way to succeed in business, government, in anything without really trying?” His confusion was echoed by Howard Hanna of Pittsburgh who said, “Your friends, being pressured to maintain an 85 average so they can get into college, start to cheat on tests. I know one kid who got every quarterly exam from someplace and never studied a minute.” The young people were a bit more worldly in their discussion of the social mores of our time. Betty Reid, a young lady from Mississippi said, “I know many of my friends drink. Some start when they are 15, usually because they are going out with freshmen or sophomores. They want to be like big shots. But it’s the worst thing in teenage life today. It takes away your intelligence and knocks down your morals.” I have to think that these tall, clear thoughts reflect teenagers the world over. I frankly believe they have an acute sense of right and wrong. It’s a wonder too, for we have given them very few guide posts these past few years.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. Labeled #11

Like it or not, we’re living in a world that is moving ahead so fast that life seems like a chapter from science fiction. We have been greatly shocked that the Russians have the jump on us in the race to conquer space. Now there is a great deal of speculation that it is only a matter of time ‘til man can control the entire weather picture. There are two things we can do; turn our backs on it all and say, this is too fantastic to believe, or face up to it and try to keep abreast of developments behind the Iron Curtain. Well. we tried to hide our heads before, and we just about got our world blown out from under us. So, face up the the pace we must.  But, where do we start?

There is no doubt about it. We start with our children. We start with our schools, our educational system. Almost overnight, the emphasis has switched from development along sociological lines to development along the lines of learning. Very simply...it’s high time our young people stated using their brains. All the multi-million dollar schools we build, the personality development courses we give, the social activities we plan, the psychological approaches we use have become secondary to the true function of any educational system...the function of learning. If the democratic system in which we believe so strongly is to survive, then we have to teach our youngsters HOW TO THINK and this can start from the day they are born. It is a world that is moving so fast it frightens you. We can go along with it, mould and direct it in the channels we think and strongly believe it should go, or we can be consumed by it. This is no time for coddling our leaders of tomorrow...it’s time for firm realistic direction. Today, the teacher is the most important person in our society. On the shoulders of our teachers lies the entire future of our civilization. My friends, they need your help, they need your prayers, they need your faith, and may God give instruction to their schemes.