Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

To get to my office from my home, I have to pass one of the big high schools of which our city is so proud. The school is surrounded by a high close mesh wire fence. That fence is closed down completely 3 feet up with papers, gum wrappers, boxes, and every other kind of debris you can imagine. In a word, it's a mess. Now there are several hundred youngsters going to the school and every day you can see them out in the schoolyard, relay running, broad-jumping, pole vaulting and playing all those active games that keep children healthy. I have often asked myself, "why not just one hour per week devoted to cleaning up the schoolyard?” It was a ritual when I went to school and I might say, rather looked forward to. Are today's kids too good to pick up a few papers and clean up the school where they spend so much of their time? I asked one of the young fellows one day if any attempt was ever made to clean up the schoolyard. "Naw, let the school board do it. We're at school to get an education not learn how to be garbage collectors." He couldn't talk long. He had to get back to the urgent business of foot racing. In a way I guess you can't condemn the kids. Least ways not so long as father drives to the golf course where he hires a small powered cart to haul him around the 18 holes, and then has the gall to say he golfs for exercise.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

Pretense is that which… far from fooling the beholder… serves only to induce contempt for the pretender. In our experience, economic and social position are generally the most common basis for pretense… so many of us have that irresistible urge to go the Joneses one better. If we don't have the means to do it… we rely on pretense. Strangely enough, the more means we get, the more necessary it is to pretend that we are even higher up than that. It has been said, and probably with a great deal of truth that the only people who are completely without pretense are the very rich, because they don't need to pretend… and the very poor, because it would be pointless. In the middle are the haves, in varying degrees… many, grateful and contented with what they do have… but too many, adding that extra helping of "have" through the folly of pretense. Folly… yes… because all they are doing is grasping their way vainly to something completely unimportant and unnecessary… and living behind their own self respect.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

Mans business is to work… his BUSINESS is to work. When we think about it a moment, we realize that indeed, living means working… work is what brought through the Neanderthal man to the world of today. Yet, our daily workload is the one thing we complain about most. So many of us just can't seem to accept that overpowering fact….. we can't wait for the day when we can drop it all and relax….. retire. But, ask the retired folk, the ones who "do nothing all day”… and they’d give anything to be in your shoes, with the whole world ahead of them. For, whether we know it or not… our work is our greatest happiness… so why spend so much time rejecting it when we could be building it up into something we can really be proud and happy about.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Tuesday, September 8, 1959

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 D-day… D for deliverance… your timer for liberation… the day when you'd be free of those yelling, kicking, crying, cookie begging little characters who gave you no peace from sun-up till sunset. Well, many of you have had your big day, but it wasn't at all like you thought it would be was it? there was probably a lump in your throat as you dressed the second little boy for his first day at school, and you wondered how the years have slipped by so fast since the day you brought him into the world. And big brother… (it’s old hat for him, he’s in grade 4 now)… he stands by to teach the little guy the ropes. And he even forgives his little brother for the few anxious tears he sheds as he tells his mother he doesn't want to go to school, that he doesn't even know how to make a 2 or anything. Big brother stands by and at the appointed time takes brother by the hand and with shining mourning faces they start off across the busy Thoroughfare… into a new world. You know 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 do 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're out of sight… then you sit down and drink the last cup of morning coffee and say a silent prayer and ask God to watch over your littlest Angel and pray that he'll learn the ways of the world well… but gently.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Monday, January 4, 1960

Nightclub comic, Joe E. Lewis, has had more than his share of ups and downs. You may remember his story. In book form it was called "The Joker is Wild". They also made a movie of it. Joe grew up in the rough days of the mobs in Chicago. He started singing and telling his jokes in the whiskey mills around the big city and over a period of some 20+ years worked himself into the big night spots of the strip in Vegas. However, between the beginning and the present, Joe E. Louis took raps, hard ones. He had his throat cut by a couple of mobsters in Chicago, who left him to die in a cheap hotel room. He was caught in the middle time and time again when the underworld warring factions were trying to get control of the club business, through which to distribute their bootleg booze. Joe E. Lewis couldn't afford to make an enemy, even as it was dangerous for him to have a friend. And so it was all uphill. When he moved on and out of Chicago, he still took knock after knock, professionally, in his personal life, and with his health. When you read his story you say, "no guy should go through life like that". Yep, he's a remarkable guy. Do you know what he does every morning when he rolls out of bed? He goes over to the window of the room, looks out and says under his breath, “Well, I made it again". That's right… "I made it again". And then I imagine he is grateful. Joe E. Lewis no doubt has learned what so many of us never learn, that we can live just one day at a time, and if we make it through tomorrow, we should figure ourselves lucky. If you do as I do, and try to meet today's problems while nursing Yesterdays hurts and worrying about tomorrow's outcome, why not try the Joe E. Lewis approach. When you get out of bed tomorrow, remember, it's a clean slate you've been given and be thankful you "made it again”.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

One of my favorite targets is the child guidance expert… the writer of unlimited articles on how to raise children. A bit of research has unearthed the fact that most of the articles on how to raise kids that I have read, were written by experts who were single and have never spent a rainy weekend with a child in their life. One of their favorite theories is, "You should never spank a child." They say he'll feel rejected… unloved… unwanted, he'll grow up with a complex… twisted, warped, personality. Well if that is the case, I created yesterday morning three rejected… unloved… unwanted… complexed, twisted and warped personalities because just after sunup I wailed the be-jeepers out of my three boys who have been hooting, hollering, screaming, jumping, pumping and rolling around the house since 6:30. This I have not done often… but this, when it has been done, has been done well, and I assure you, it has a marked effect on children. Last night, they were as good as gold… they kissed me good night… they said they loved me and this morning, dawn came up as gently in our home as when it left the good Lord's hand. Conclusion… a good tanning of back-sides when deserved never hurt any kid… and I feel myself that it's high time children learned that adults have no piece of cake in running a home and a family these days, and that because of this fact, they deserve a little peace and quiet and respect from the children. I have found that children have a remarkable sense of fair play, and when they get a licking and it is truly justified, they know blessed well they had it coming. So mother… read your articles if you wish… but when all else fails, remember the remarkable advances that have been made in human behavior with a good swift swat on the derriere.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

We have a bird at our house. He is a yellow-green Budgie who goes by the name of Max. This creature gets more attention each day than I do. He flies about the house making a great deal of noise and perches on your shoulder to chatter when you are at your busiest. Frankly, Max is a useless pest… but we adore him. This is strange because not too long ago I used to get most impatient with people who, as I used to say, "Make darn fools of themselves" over pets. Had anyone told me I'd ever have a real case on for a budgie, I have told them they were out of their minds. I guess we love these little creatures because they ask so little of us. If we leave the home they are always glad to have us back when we return and are not afraid to show it. They never appear out of sorts and always have in their own way a cheering word to say. When the going gets tough in the whole world seems to have turned against you, you can always count on your pet to give you the acceptance you need so badly. Where a pet is concerned there are no demands, there is no treachery. When a man no longer has time to make a fool of himself over a bird or a dog or a cat, you can stop the world and I'll get off.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

For three years, every Monday, I joined 235 other gentleman at what they call a service club luncheon. This particular club had as its project, the maintenance of a home for less fortunate children. During the three years of my membership, I noticed with alarm that the executive of the club concerned itself constantly with the "burden" of this home. Indeed, it was often suggested openly that in someway the home should be abandoned, if it could be done without damaging the "image" and "good name" of the club. It further concerned me that most members of the club spent their luncheon period involved in business discussions. More cars, homes and insurance policies were sold at that "service" luncheon then were ever finalized in the members respective offices. I would like to say that this club was not typical of service clubs but I am afraid that is not the case. I have nothing against business luncheons, but I do not approve of service club luncheons being utilized for this purpose. In organizations of this kind, there must be a high degree of integrity, and it is amazing to me how year after year so many good fellows allow themselves to be duped into thinking that when they joined this service club or that, it is indeed for the purpose of “service" to some segment of our society. It is an unhappy commentary on our times that throughout the country, more and more so-called service clubs meet for a little else than the betterment of business among the assembled members. My one three-year hitch with a service club has made me a paid up lifetime member of the "non-joiners club.”

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Tuesday, September 19, 1961

There is a man in this town I wish you all knew. I can't tell you his name, nor will you ever see it in Who’s-who. Nevertheless he is a very successful businessman, and what is more important, an extremely good human being. Over the years I have watched this man help person after person in his own quiet way. Now I know lots of people who will lend a person a hand when he's down and out, but this fellow is different. If you fall down 20 times he'll pick you up 20 times and when the entire world has written you off as a lost cause, this gent will always give you one more try. In this cynical dog-eat-dog world we’d probably called this man a king-sized sucker… an easy mark… but really this isn't so. He is no fool believe me, but he places many, many things ahead of money and success in importance. To him the most important thing in life is human dignity. Perhaps because he has been over the hurdles himself in by-gone years, he has this extremely high regard for the value of a man. Sure, he's been taken advantage of many times in his span of years, but this doesn't change his outlook. He is still always ready and willing to take another chance. You know, a person like this gets a great deal out of life. I think one of the most rewarding things in life is giving of oneself for someone else. If as you listen to me this morning, there is someone who needs your help; regardless of the circumstances; why don't you give it. Every human being, regardless of the situation in which he may find himself, is worth one more chance. Why don't YOU be the person who offers that chance. The rewards are not calculated in dollars and cents, but in something infinitely more precious; something you can only know about when you have picked up the person that the rest of the world has written off.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

She was not a young woman when her husband passed away. He had always looked after the business of running the home, paying the bills, seeing about the insurance, things like that. After his retirement, he had taken to the road again with a line of merchandise, hoping to keep busy and earn a little extra over and above his pension. She decided it would be a good idea if she learned to drive the car; then she could help him out on the long, weary road trips. And then he died, leaving her alone to cope with all the matters with which she had never had to concern herself.

Her grief was unbearable for they had been very close for over 40 years. She continued with her driving lessons. She took over the business which was so strange to her, and each spring and fall made the rounds of her accounts and even opened new ones. Though it was all foreign to her, she looked after the bookwork, made up the orders and kept the little business alive because, as she put it, "That's what he would want me to do." Though there were many, many lonely hours, she would not quit. If tears were shed, they were shed in the loneliness of her bedroom after the lights have been turned out. Though more than half of her own life died with the passing of her husband, she knew that she had to go on. This great woman was a sterling example of how a human being should handle grief. This past summer she went to join her departed husband, and everyone who knew her said the same thing. "This woman had great courage and faith.”

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Wednesday, April 28, 1965

I took the long road to work yesterday. Like most people, it's my custom to stay in bed until the last minute. I switch on my radio to discover that I have just 20 minutes to make it to the office. I bolt breakfast and then I'm off, bumper to bumper, down the freeway, the shortest route between home and work. Yesterday dawned warm and clear. I heard a robin in a nearby tree just after daybreak. I rolled out early and after a solitary breakfast climbed in my car and started out along the river road. My goodness, how much I have been missing in all my rush. The ice was breaking up and huge jagged floats were drifting lazily down the Saskatchewan. The bugs were starting to show on the trees along the riverbank, and the call of the cock pheasant echoed across the valley. Up on the hill, the grass was starting to turn green and here and there the bright yellow of an anxious dandelion could be seen. As I passed the golf course, I noticed two young men who had removed their jackets, the better to feel the warmth of the springtime sun. The season hadn't officially opened, but they couldn't wait to get out on the links for the first game of the new season. As I drove along I noticed an old man with his ancient dog, walking along the roadside. He waved to me as I passed and I wondered how many spring times he had seen and how many more it would be his good fortune to see. I am one of those people who hates our long cold winters, and yet I could not help but wonder as I drove along in the crisp spring air, if I would really enjoy these moments as much had they not been made so precious by the cold, dreary months through which we had just passed. When I got to the office, one of our young ladies said, "Good morning, Mr. Forbes." Yes, indeed, it was a good morning. A VERY good morning.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Wednesday, February 19, 1964

Were anyone to ask me when the greatest emotional change takes place in the adult male or female, I would say it occurs in the half hour period between taking a child into his bed and your going upstairs to "see if he's covered". Yes, a wonderful almost miraculous change takes place in a few short minutes. It's an acknowledged fact that a child will loudly protest the evening ritual. As you bath him he will scream about soap in his eyes. He will yell when a rough towel brushes a wounded knee. He will yelp as the comb catches a knot in his wet hair. When you finally tuck him in, he will rapidly develop leg pains, acute thirst, and unbearable abdominal cramps. After much scolding, pleading, bickering and bargaining, he will be stilled. Feeling much the worst for the ordeal the adult can then retire to the living room to "read the paper". Now the emotional change starts to take place. 25 minutes after you have allowed that your child is a spoiled little hellion, you creep upstairs again to "see if he's covered". In the dim light you see him. There he lies so still and warm, so sweet and cuddlesome. Tight little curls cling to his damp forehead and he smells like Johnson's Baby Powder. Was there ever a more wonderful child than this? The devil of just 30 minutes ago has grown wings and all the trials and tribulations of the early evening are forgotten. Yes… I am always amazed at the transformation that takes place in a parent as the small progeny slips off into dreamland.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Thursday, February 13, 1964

There is a great movement afoot in our mass media to bring back that old hush, hush business of the birds and the bees into the open. Where we used to protect our children from all knowledge of this important business, we now seem inclined to expose them to a deluge of fact at the drop of a question. There is much to recommend this new approach to sex education, and yet I think it is doubtful business to jam these facts down a child’s throat long before he is ready to accept and understand this complex area of life. It seems to me that too many parents answer questions that the child really hasn't asked at all. I like to recall the story of the little boy who came home and said "Mother, where did I come from?" The mother sat the child down, asked father to join the conversation and together they gave the child a lengthy, clinical lecture on the business of reproduction. At the end of the long chat the father inquired of the boy why he had asked at that particular time on that particular day, where he had come from. The boy replied, "Well, that new kid up the block told me he came from Halifax and I was just wondering where I came from". Be honest with children, by all means, but answer the questions they ASK not the questions you THINK they have in mind.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Monday, March 1, 1965

A few weeks back I wrote a little piece about my late mother is home remedies. There were one or two more which I forgot to mention and have since recalled. My mother used to have a unique way to fend off germs. Not just some germs but all germs. She did it with what she called an asafetida bag. I wore one for three years from the time I started grade one until grade three. Mother made these bags by tearing up a small piece of cloth into about 6 inch squares. In the center of the square she put a cube of camphor and a clove of garlic. Then she’d gather up the four corners of the cloth, wrap a spring around the gather and tie it to my neck under my heavy drop-seat Stanfields underwear. I tell you, in a hot classroom you can smell young Forbes 50 feet away. As soon as the smell started to weaken mother would put together another asafetida bag and we'd have a fresh go at those germs. Funny thing about it is this. My mother, when I was a kid, didn't believe in shots. I never had a needle in my arm until I joined the Royal Canadian Navy. All my other friends were inoculated and vaccinated for everything from hangnails to bog spaven, but my brother and I went unprotected except for mothers asafetida bags. The miracle of the matter is that while other kids, protected as they were by the advances of modern medicine, were dropping like flies with measles, mumps, chickenpox and whooping cough, my brother and I never got a thing. We had to be the healthiest kids in school. Naturally I would like to attribute this to mothers asafetida bags. No one should have to suffer as we did without some benefit, but in the quiet turning of my own considered judgment, I can see now why my brother and I never caught all those childhood diseases. Very simply, no diseased kids; in fact no healthy one either would get within 20 feet of us. The asafetida bags were just too much to take. Just one thing more. Those bags gave me a nickname which I carried with me for 25 years. They called me…..  stinky.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Friday, March 20, 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 picked 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 a little 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 of our lives. Truth will often hurt, but always remember those words of Ben Cartwright. "The hurt you feel when you tell the truth it's 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 - Tuesday, May 12, 1964

Every now and then you'll pick up a magazine or paper and see the picture of some man who has set up a barricade against invading construction crews who wish to cross his land with a super highway. Whether it's a matter of price or principal I do not care. I immediately identify with that man. You see, I am anti-progress in this respect. I have spent too many glorious hours wandering down warm, friendly, silent country lanes to have too much affection for those forbidding wide ribbons of concrete and steel we have come to call Freeways. Free in what way, I often ask myself. True we get there and back in a great hurry on these roads but oh, there is so much we don't see as we strain along at breakneck speeds. Me, I may always be late and a little dusty, but I'll stick to the little back road with its shallow ditches, its flowers, its tall crop borders, its overhanging trees and its occasional ancient creaking bridge. I hope before I die that I happened upon the scene described at the beginning of this piece. Just once before I die I would like to shake my fist at the blade of an oncoming bulldozer.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Wednesday, March 25, 1964

I celebrated my 40th birthday recently, and in a moment of quiet meditation, realized that my expected journey through life was more than half completed. It seemed to me like a good time for reflection, and I must confess, I was not very happy with what I had accomplished in life. I have always felt that a man must have some strong meaning to his work in order to fulfill himself during his brief span on earth. "Surely," I said to myself, "there is something more important to do with your life than what you are doing". During a discussion with a group of gentlemen a week later, I brought the subject up and I was amazed to find that just about every man in the room and had the same experience. These men were a real cross-section of our society. They range from grocery clerks to Doctors of Divinity, and each one felt exactly as I felt, that there was so much more we could have done with our lives. A very learned clergyman said that this kind of introspection was in itself a high accomplishment. He said it was most encouraging that responsible businessmen should even consider that there was a higher calling to which they each felt he could answer. Well, we cannot all be Dr. Schweitzer or Eleanor Roosevelt. We cannot all change the course of history as some great men have done. But in the context of our own lives, we can each do something for the betterment of our fellow man. It may be such a simple thing as giving man back his self respect through your confidence and understanding. It may be in walking with a blind man on a sunny afternoon, or visiting the sick Children's Hospital. These are simple things but they can give your life some meaning. Even caring about your fellow man can be rewarding for today it takes great courage to really care.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Friday, January 31, 1964

I suppose it is only natural for all children to wonder from time to time how they will react to the loss of a parent. I know when I was younger, I often thought about this. I recall to exactly what I thought on that dark rainy evening when I was told my own father had passed away. As I drove along to the hospital one thing kept running through my mind. I thought "There is so much I didn’t say”. By then it was too late and all the things I had felt about my father, but never told him, would now never be said. It is a great pity, I think, that we wait so long to put into words all that we feel in our hearts for those we love. Often we are embarrassed about these deep feelings so we keep them locked in our hearts until it is too late. How much happier we could all be if we could only express our love in actions and words. As a father myself I know how much the love and respect my children means to me and how I long to have my sons express this love in word and deed. My father two must have harbored these same yearnings, and yet I waited until it was too late. I hope you will not make this same mistake. It is always tragic to lose a loved one, but I am sure the feeling of loss would be so much less acute if everything has been said.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Thursday, April 22, 1965

Maurice L. West is one of the worlds most successful writers. His books include The Devils Advocate, The Shoes of the Fisherman and his latest, The Ambassador. Maurice West has traveled the world over researching his books. Much more than most of us who by the very nature of our lives live far removed from much of the worlds suffering, West is painfully aware of man's inhumanity to man. On a recent television interview Morris West was asked to make an observation on the world situation… where will all this injustice end, or indeed, will it end at all. I wish I could remember West’s reply verbatim. I cannot, but the underlying idea was this. The world is in an almost unbelievable mess. The last two world wars proved nothing. Today across the face of the globe we see the great power of the east flexing its military and ideological muscles against the great power of the west. We see country set against country and countries divided against themselves. Author West said all this would never change until we all learned "to live in the other man's skin”. He said "only by living in the other man's skin can we ever know what is crucifying him." Think that over. Are you prepared to "live in another man's skin?" Are you prepared to set aside your own selfishness, prepared to lay even your life on the line in the name of human justice? Are you willing to pick up the cross of the colored man, or the Indian, or the Chinese communist, or that neighbor across the way who goes to a different church than you do and who is not a member of your political party and has a name that comes hard to you. Are you prepared to "wear these peoples skin" in an effort to find out what makes them tick, what they feel, what they want for themselves and their children? It's a big order isn't it? You know, I thought as I listen to Morris West , it is all in vain. To live in another man's skin? Who among us will do it. Today, who cares for his fellow man? Who really cares? If we haven't learned to care at this point in world history, we will never care. Another great leader had the same message 2000 years ago.  Jesus said, “Love one another.”

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Tuesday, January 28, 1964

I found this little piece in a book which came to my desk last week. It's in titled "Take it From Me", and was written by a gentleman named W. Randall. It is so worthwhile, I hope Mr. Randall will not mind my repeating it for you.

An artist to paint the most beautiful picture in the world. He asked a clergyman, "What is the most beautiful thing in the world?" "Faith", answered the clergyman. "You can feel it in any church; find it at any altar." The artist searched further and found a young bride. Upon asking her the same question she replied, "Love. Love builds poverty into riches, sweetens tears, makes much of a little. Without it there is no beauty." Going further he made the same inquiry of a soldier who answered - – "Peace is the most beautiful thing in the world. War is the most ugly. Wherever you find peace, you will find beauty". "Faith, love, peace; how can I paint them?" wondered the artist. Entering his home, he found Faith in the eyes of his children, Love in the eyes of his wife. And there in his home was the peace that faith and love built. So he painted "The Most Beautiful Thing in the World." And when he had finished, he called it “home”.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Tuesday, January 12, 1965

When I see on occasion how deeply a man can feel about his pet, I gain new hope for the human race. I visited a friend of mine a few nights ago who is one of the hardest man I have ever known. He is a violent man who has been in and out of trouble all his life. He has no family and few friends. I would've given odds that there wasn't a kind bone in his body. When I entered his modest flat he was sitting in a chair looking out the window. I could see he had been crying. When I asked what the trouble was, he explained that his canary had died. I really couldn't believe my ears. This man who is a complete outcast and rebel in human society had been this deeply touched by the loss of his pet. Alexander King tells a wonderful story about seeing a man and a dog get out of a cab in front of an apartment. The man started to go up the stairs into his flat. The dog, an ugly long tailed beast with shaggy long hair, walked in the other direction. King called after the man to tell him his dog was walking away. The man said, "Oh, that's not my dog." "But he got out of the cab with you,” explained King. "If he's not yours how come he was in the cab with you?" The man walked over to King and said, "Well, I was going into my place here when I saw that ugly dog. He was the worst looking hound I have ever seen. I thought to myself, how often does a dog like that get a ride in a taxi. So I took him around the block a few times." I think as long as we feel that way about animals, the human race is going to be OK.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Tuesday, June 30, 1964

About a month ago I stood with my family looking into the steep gorge of Maligne Canyon in Jasper National Park. In places the canyon is so deep you cannot see the rushing water far below. On the upper edges of the canyon you can see the deep ridges cut in the rock where the river ran hundreds of years ago. It is almost beyond belief that the force of the water rushing over those rocks could in time cut a gorge several hundred feet deep, but such is the case. There is a great lesson to be learned looking at that swiftly flowing water rushing to the lake below. As we go through life there are things we want, goals we hope to reach, ambitions we hope to fulfill. The way of life, however, it is never smooth. We all have our ups and downs, our triumphs and disappointments. We see our castles tumble and our dreams fade away in the dust. What then does a man require if he is to reach his rainbows end? He needs what that mountain stream has. Force, determination, ability to twist and bend, the capacity to compromise on a course, and above all, a sense of purpose and direction. True, the water always runs downhill while your life and mind has ups and downs, but remember this, if a mountain Stream can cut its way through 200 feet of rock with nothing more than force and direction, can you not reach your goals with these same qualities?

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Friday, June 5, 1964

A short while ago I was driving across a somewhat barren section of Colorado. The road was straight as a rail for 50 miles and the traffic very light for it was early in the morning. As I drove along I came upon a car in the ditch. It was a fine automobile but it was hopelessly stuck in the deep sand in the shallow ditch. A young Air Force officer was standing beside the car. I stopped to give him a lift. I asked him how he happened to go off a road that was so straight and completely free from traffic. He smiled a little and seemed a bit embarrassed. It didn't make sense to me that this young officer whose job it was to fly a faster-than-sound aircraft should not be able to keep a car on a straight broad highway. After a little prodding he explained that a small white kitten had darted from the ditch right into the path of his car and that in his effort to miss the little animal he had ditched the car. Being a bit of a softy, a lump came to my throat and I said no more, but let me tell you this – when I let my passenger off at the Air Force Base I felt very close to this man. I wondered if as he continued his study of mass human destruction that day, he would appreciate the incongruity of the risk he took in ditching his car to save a small, white kitten.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Thursday, May 7, 1964

I suppose we like to think that as a society, we treat them rather well. We build them special homes where they can be with those who are the same age. We open and operate hospitals where they are carefully looked after and provided for. We erect small communities were all their neighbors had the same problems as they; and yet how many of us take a moment now and then to spend some time with those people we have come to know as "our senior citizens". Above all, these people want to be wanted. They want to feel that they are still part of the main stream of Canadian life. What we are doing for the aged is great, but is it enough? Is it enough that we isolate them amid others who are reminders that the world and time is passing them by? True there are many who require special care and it is only right that they should have it. But there are so many more for whom the years have been kind. They are bright and attentive. Their lives have been full and they are filled with the accumulated knowledge of many, many summers. They are old, yes, but they are wise and I often feel we are all too anxious to write them off. I count myself very fortunate in that I have many, many friends of very advanced years. I often take my own problems to these people. I do this for two reasons. First is a selfish reason. I know that their's is the accumulated knowledge of the passing years and that their observations have a validity that only time can provide. Secondly, I know of their great desire to be needed and wanted and I recognize that when I let them help me, I am also helping them. How long has it been since you have spent time with a "senior citizen"? Why not enjoy this rewarding experience soon.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Monday, January 20, 1964

Most of us have our children when we are pretty young. I'm sure the prospect of raising a child doesn't frighten most young parents at all. It is when that child starts to grow, physically and mentally, that we finally realize what a great responsibility we have undertaken. The older we grow, the more we realize that life can be rough and tough. It is when we begin to worry about this life we have started, and the job of shaping that life takes on new dimensions. Well, how do you shape a life? How do you prepare a boy for manhood? I have my own ideas, you know doubt have yours. I'd say that in shaping a boy, it is important that you give a great deal of yourself to the lad. Give him all the answers you have, but at the same time lead him on to the many unanswered questions that exist in the world today. Give him confidence in his own thought but at the same time point out the folly in that thought when it becomes apparent to you. Let your own good habits rub off on the lad. Work with him, play with him, study with him and if need be, cry with him. When the sordid and shabby side of life becomes apparent to him, do not shield him from the truth. At the same time, expose him to beauty and goodness at every opportunity. Above all explain to him God does not expect perfection. Show him that there has only been one perfect human on this earth, and tell him that he died on the cross.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

One of my favorite plays is Thorton Wilder's OUR TOWN. I am sure I have read it 50 times. OUR TOWN is the story of Grovers Corners, New Hampshire, a small New England town, where people are born, live out their lives and die in much the same fashion as you and I. Toward the end of the play, Emily Webb, whose life the drama has traced out from childhood, dies bringing a baby into the world. After her death she decided to return to earth for just one more day. The day she selects to relive is her 12th birthday. In a very moving scene Emily watches the events of this particular day unfold and she becomes painfully, tragically aware of how much she had missed; how much we all miss in our day-to-day life. Clocks ticking… sunflowers… food and coffee… new ironed dresses and hot baths… sleeping and waking. When the pain of it all becomes too much Emily says "Oh earth, you are too wonderful for anybody to realize you." And goes on to ask "do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?” Emily returns to death, sadly disillusion by her experience, and she is told "Now you know. That's what it was to be alive. To move about in a cloud of ignorance; to go up and down trampling on the feelings of those about you. To spend and waste time as though you had a million years. To be always at the mercy of one self-centered passion or another. Now you know" well, that pretty well sums up our lives doesn't it? There are so many things we take for granted. There is so much beauty our eyes behold but do not see. We fritter away time like we had a million years to live and indeed we are always "At the mercy of one self centered passion or another". Possibly like Emily Webb we will be able to get life in proper perspective from the vantage point of death. What a pity so few of us can do so here and now. Again to quote OUR TOWN… "This old planet keeps straining away, straining away all the time to make something of itself. The strain’s so bad that every 16 hours everybody lies down and gets a rest.”

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

There are destructive attitudes abroad in our society today - attitudes which should cause us as parents and responsible citizens a great deal of concern. In regard to these attitudes we must take much of the blame for their prevalence, because we are all a party to them. Last night, with a teenage boy sitting beside me, I thumbed through a recent copy of our national magazine which showed the pictures of the Vietnamese campaign. As an experiment, I pointed to a photograph of 10 dead Viet Cong soldiers lying face up beside a muddy road. I said to the lad, "What do you think of that"? He looked at the picture for a moment, and then said "So what, they are only Viet Cong". It frightens me that we have become so accustomed to brutality and to death, that such photographs and such happenings no longer really concern us, providing it is only the enemy that is dead. This kind of thing is a cancer which can eventually grow and destroy us. We saw it in the last war, when photographs came in from Europe and the Pacific Islands. We were appalled at the photographs of the Allied troops, but if the photographs depicted the dead enemy, we would think in our minds they are only Japanese, or they are only Germans. The value of human life has dropped to an all time low, and will eventually if it has not already begun to, reflect in our own attitudes within our own society. Human life will become of no consequence. We are all searching for some peaceful solution to the worlds problems. We are all searching for the answer to hatred. We will not find these answers until we get the value of human life in proper perspective. We must care as much for the Viet Cong as we do for the American. We must be as concerned with the Negro as we are with our white neighbor. We must help the Indian as often as we help our best friend who lives down the block. I am 42 years old today and I cannot remember a period in my life when men were not killing men in some area of the world. To me the answer is so simple, it was voiced over 2000 years ago by another leader who was crucified, it consists of only three words, "love one another”.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I come from a family of two, and I want to go on record as saying those are lousy odds. Look at it this way. If my brother and I got into trouble there was a 50-50 chance that I'd take the whipping since naturally we always tried to blame the other guy. Things are different with my kids. I have four sons. When open warfare breaks out in the home, as it often does, each child has a one in four chance to escape my wrath. Before I was a father myself, I used to watch other dads as they quickly set the blame for a four or five child free-for-all and just as quickly administer the required tanning to one small backside. I remember asking one father how he was sure which kid started it. "It really doesn't matter," he said. "Sooner or later it will all even itself out.” I have found this to be the case. I have also found that when you single one lad out for a good thumping, it has a very sobering affect on the others. Furthermore, if you happen to nail the wrong lad, the one who is to blame will no doubt "get his" later on behind the garage at the hands of the boy who "took the rap". So fathers and mothers, take it from a veteran. Don’t waste too much time trying to figure out who is to blame, or who started it. When big trouble hits, make an arbitrary decision, cut one guy out of the herd and have done with it. And remember, as my friend said, "over the year it will all even itself out.”

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

It's an unfortunate fact that in this day and age we often forget our manners. They used to be so important, but now it appears, people just couldn't care less. Perhaps you are one of those persons who thinks that a "please" or "thanks" is not really important. Believe me, one word like that can mean the difference between friend or foe. On a trip to New York once, I noticed that New York cab drivers do not talk to everybody. They’ll talk the leg off one person and be completely silent with the next. I asked a driver about this one day. He said "listen mister, it's a complement when a driver talks to you." "How so?" I inquired. The cabbie went on "I picked up a million fares driving in this city. I get two kinds of fares. One kind is the guy who says, "take me to Grand Central Station." Him, I don't talk to. The other one says "Will you take me to Grand Central Station?” Him I know I can talk to.” "Just that one word, WILL, is that the key?" I asked. "That's it mister. Ain't it funny how that little word, WILL always makes the difference between a stuffed shirt and a friend?" My friends, I think there is something to ponder in the observations of that cab driver. It is amazing what one little word can do, especially when those important small words are so seldom used.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I used to think I wanted all my children when I was in my 20s. "Let's have them and get it over with," was my attitude. Now here I am over 40 and I still have a two-year-old around the house and I'd like to believe there will be more. I find now that the older I get the more I appreciate the little ones. There is one disadvantage and that is the older you become the busier you become and hints you have fewer hours with the kids. Unfortunately you lose touch a little. For example my wife left me with our small son on Saturday while she went to the hairdressers. It had been a long time since I had fed him. He is now eating what they call I believe junior foods. These have to be the messiest, most unappetizing little tinned lunches in the world. At any rate, I was commissioned to feed the baby, strained tinned liver along with other things. Just the smell of liver is enough for me. Pulverize it into a gray semi-liquid mess like in those Junior food tins and liver becomes without a doubt the worlds most obnoxious food. Now along with the liver my wife left a tin of squash, which is in my books another one of natures most nothing foods. The little guy did well for three or four spoonsful and then he got the idea it would be a nice gesture to offer daddy a spoonful of mashed liver mixed with mashed squash. I was trapped. Several old clichés is flashed through my mind. "Set a good example." "Like father like son." "How do you expect him to eat it if his father won't". So like a brave little soldier I shut my eyes, held my nose and took a spoonful. Yeeek. Nothing which tastes that bad can be good for a kid, I don't care what you say. One good turn deserves another so it was one for baby, one for daddy until the unholy mess was gone. Now don't tell me the modern day parent doesn't suffer for all his offspring. When my wife came home we reached an agreement. The next time she leaves me in charge of the child's luncheon menu, the boy either eats T-bone steak, fried onions and hash-browns, or no deal! I made the supreme sacrifice Saturday. That was enough liver and squash for two lifetimes.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

During the 40s, one of the best known gentleman in our town was a fellow by the name of Louis Kagoul. He attended every social event of the season. He toured the night spots. He was a frequent visitor to far away places. His name appeared constantly in the social columns and there was always a table reserved in his name for the Saturday night supper dance at one of our swank hotels. However, no one ever met Louis Kagoul. You see, he didn't exist. Louis was the creation of two young men in our town who decided it might be fun to see how well-known a person could become without ever really existing. When the war came along, Louis Kagoul was one of the first to go. He enlisted in the ranks, but we read in the paper shortly after that he had been promoted. The newspapers after that often carried news of Kagoul's great acts of bravery on the field of battle. It was with considerable regret one Saturday that his many friends read of his untimely death in the face of enemy fire. In social circles, his death was discussed at great length and it was agreed that we had lost a friend. During his brief but spectacular career, I was one of the very few who knew that there was no such person as Louis Kagoul; that he was only a name in the social column in the newspaper. Yet I talk to many, many people who had entertained him, dated him, toured with him and fought with him. I must confess however, I felt a keen sense of loss when he was reported dead. You see I had always felt there was not enough of this kind of harmless nonsense in this grim world.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I am a "small print" reader. I am the kind of guy who goes through an insurance policy cover to cover, reading all the "where as’s" and "to wits" and "parties of the first parts". No, I don't understand what they say, but by golly, I want to be protected nonetheless and therefore, I devour that small print. That is why today I'm coming out strong against vitamin pills. You read a great deal in some of our better medical journals like the Readers Digest, about the benefits of vitamin pills. I am against them. Let me tell you why. If you are a small print reader you'll realize that on every vitamin bottle label there is a list of the vitamin and minerals contained. This is good. But right at the bottom, beside an asterix, is the smallest print on the label. It says, "the significance of this vitamin in human nutrition is not yet established." Now that scares the pants off me. I have friends who take vitamins. One is a chronic backache sufferer. Another's hair is falling out. Still another can't sleep. A fourth suffers from double vision. All of these ailments I attribute to those vitamins "the significance of which has yet to be established in human nutrition." All I want to know is this. If the drug company doesn't know what reaction it has on people like me, what is it doing in my vitamin pills? I do hope that at some time in the future I can come on strong FOR vitamins, but first they'll have to get rid of those spooky ingredients. Until then, it's me for black strap molasses, yogurt and an apple a day.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

There is an excellent a little book on the market called You Learn by Living. It was written by a woman I admire very much, the late Eleanor Roosevelt. In this book she says some pretty compelling things about optimism, things that I feel are important in this frantic world in which we live. A woman said to Mrs. Roosevelt, "I can't understand your optimism. I think it is hard not to be cynical when a person looks around him”. Mrs. Roosevelt replied by stating that to her, cynicism is a form of philosophical defeat. It comes only when you have given up any thought or hope of achievement. She goes on to say "if you care enough about certain things and work for them, I think you are bound to find them in the people you are with. What matters now as always is not what we can't do; it's what we can and MUST do. Affirmation rather than negation. I do not believe that good always conquers evil, because I have lived a long time in this world and have seen it isn't so. I do not seek the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow or think that everything will have a happy ending because I would like it so.” Mrs. Roosevelt goes on to say that she has seen, under the most improbable circumstances, that man can remake himself. He can even remake the world if he cares enough to try. Given leverage enough, a wise man said, "if I could lift the world." Given incentive enough, man could remake the world. Surely, in the light of history, it is more intelligent to hope rather than fear, to try, rather than not to try, for one thing we know beyond doubt; nothing has ever been achieved by the person who says, "it can't be done.”

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

Running a radio station as I do you can be very hectic work. The pressure is great, the tension is constant. I thank my lucky stars that in my business I have such great contact with people, because so often at the end of a hard day, when things have gone wrong and I'm feeling very miserable, one of our listeners will come to my rescue. For example, I got a call last week from a postman who has to get up at 4 AM every day. He phoned to tell me he listens to our station at that weird hour every day and enjoys it. I thanked him. He went on to say, however, but the station had caused him some marital strife. I asked him why. "There I am drinking last nights warmed over coffee, which is bad enough," he said, “when on comes that commercial about the fine services offered by an airline. They tell you about the pretty stewardess who is always ready to serve you a good hot steaming cup of nice fresh coffee. This is what I hear”, he said, "As I drink that old stale stuff my wife made last night." "That's too bad," I told him. "Have you discussed this with your wife?" I inquired. He had. "What did she say?" I asked. "She said, so why don't you take a plane to work, then rolled over and went back to sleep." Like I said. Thank heaven for people. I find them very amusing and usually at precisely the right time.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

18 year old Johnny B. Antillon, a student from the Philippines made the following contribution to a discussion on “THE WORLD WE WANT". 

"Usually, when I discuss with people the kind of world we want, they astonished me by describing a Utopia without cares. As for me, I like this world we have. I like living in this century - - so full of striving and plans that I feel part of a wonderful and exciting experiment. I like the suspense which gives to life it's only true zest. Let me have this world, with dreams for me to dream and problems for me to solve.”

"If I had lived before the A and N bombs, I might be less optimistic of the future. But today I have great hope that we shall enjoy peace, for I feel deeply that no nation will start a war which none can possibly survive.”

"I believe that this world we have deserves a vote of confidence. With its dirt and cleanliness, it's ups and downs, and it's total unexpectedness, it has given, through variety, more pleasure than pain. Whatever else it may be, this particular century is still the brightest, the most exciting, the most promising of all."

"May this world always be as challenging as it is. May it always have something to be solved, patched or mended. But above all, may this world never be a soft place for soft people with soft heads. For I want a world where a man, by facing his troubles, can prove his manhood. With a world of such challenge and scope our lives will never be complacent, but they will certainly be worth living.”

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I am a cat fancier. I like the whole cat family, from the backyard tabby to the giants of the jungle. I was therefore most interested in an excellent article which is appearing now in 

Life magazine, concerning the life and hunting habits of the Indian Tiger. There are contained in the publication some fantastic photographs and facts on tigers. One fact really impressed me and stuck with me. We all assume the tiger to be probably one of the supremely skilled hunters. Well the startling fact of the matter is this. A full grown tiger, who is not a wanton killer but kills only for food, usually tries from 20 to 30 times to make his kill before he is successful. Imagine, the supreme hunter of the jungle has that high a rate of failure, and yet he never gives up. What a lesson for you and me; those of us who quit after the first failure; those of us who are so discouraged because we go a day without a sale; those of us who assume that because one course is close to us, that another doesn't exist. Unlike the great hunting tiger, we lack the tenacity to hang on; to try again and again and again until we meet with success. Instead we lie down and give up on the chase for rewards and blame circumstances, bad breaks, and everybody else for our failure. Or perhaps I'm being unfair. Perhaps it's just that we are not HUNGRY enough; perhaps we don't WANT strongly enough. Well no one can do anything about that but YOU. Also can put a tiger in your tank my friend, but YOU, only YOU can put a tiger in your THINK.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

On page 25 of last nights Edmonton Journal was a picture of a group of delightful little five and six-year-olds, all dressed up in gowns and mortar boards for their graduation from kindergarten. I don't know why parents allow their children to be part of this kind of ridiculous nonsense. We now have full graduation ceremonies from kindergarten, grade school, junior high school, high school, and finally college. Graduation used to be a special, once in a lifetime thing for a young person. Now by the time a child graduates from college, chances are he's already been through at least five other similar ceremonies, and mark you, these play school and grade school graduations are not just play acting. They are complete with all the trimmings including caps, gowns, valedictorian addresses, and diplomas. What are my objections? First, it cheapens the whole idea of educational accomplishment. Instead of holding out that great day of graduation as the culmination for our children's years of working and studying, we hand it to them as a sort of charade for passing "sandbox" at play-school. If a young person goes through a graduating ceremony every three or four years, he soon gets the idea that really they can't be very important affairs. We rob that child of what could be and should be one of the great single events of his life. Second, why can't they let five-year-olds just be five years old and when the kindergarten term is over, take them out to Borden Park for a swim, and some hotdogs and foot races. No sir, we have to push these toddlers into caps and gowns and make them act like 20 year olds with these ridiculous "graduations". You are only a child once, and more and more, parents seem to figure that once is once too often. And they just can't wait to force their children into adult experiences, 20 years before they are ready.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I wish I could remember names. I'm great on faces, but when it comes to attaching the appropriate handle, I'm a dead loss. Like most everyone else, when confronted with a familiar face, I use the old footwork to avoid having to come up with the persons correct name. "How you been old buddy?" Or “hi-ya their old timer, what's new?” And all the while you're asking yourself, "what the deuce is this fellows name? Know it as well as my own." I had a shattering experience not long ago. I was acting out the aforementioned charade on the main street of our city. For the life of me I couldn't remember the persons name to whom I was talking although he appeared to know me extremely well. He inquired about a piece I had written a few months ago and asked if he could get a copy. I assured him I'd be delighted to mail it to him. Right there I was trapped. Determined to ball my way through to the end, I took out a small booklet and pen and said, "how do you spell your last name again?" He looked at me with some bewilderment, then smiled and said “B.R.O.W.N.” I am murmured something about an "E" on the end of it and silently walked away. I made a promise to myself that day. I promised I would never try footwork again. Now if I don't know a persons name, I simply say, "gosh, I'm sorry, I know you but I forgotten your name." Believe me, it's the better method.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

A friend of mine has a 10-year-old son from whom I learned a great lesson recently. This is a remarkable lad for he is eternally optimistic, and endlessly grateful for all of life's blessings. His attitude bewilders his parents who though confused are still most grateful for the boys outlook. To test their sons optimism this Christmas past, the father promised him a pony. Like any 10-year-old, the child was delighted. They live on an acreage where such a gift was not out of the question. On Christmas Eve, after the youngster had gone to bed to await the arrival of his wondrous gift, the father carefully gift wrapped an old rusty horseshoe, attached the lads name to it and put it under the tree. In the wee hours of the morning, long before daybreak, the little lad crept downstairs to see what was under the tree. He opened one gift. It was the horseshoe. He rushed up to his dad, shook him into wakefulness and said: "hey dad, I GOT MY PONY, but he must have got away!" I wish I could tell you the lads name because with his great store of optimism, he's bound to make a great success of his life. And, oh yes, don't be too hard on the father. There WAS a pony tethered out in their modest barn.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

My wife knows why they put sugar on bitter pills. She is fully aware of the fact that a soft word turneth away wrath and that honey is more appealing than vinegar. She has a magic word. That word is "sweetie." Let's compare two or three statements and see what a great difference her magic word can make.

"You need a haircut sweetie. You're starting to look a little scruffy!” Isn't that better than simply, "you look scruffy. Get a haircut." Or how about this. “Sweetie would you mind taking out the garbage?" No man would object to that request whereas he might become downright hostile at "take out the garbage!” Too bad we all can't learn the value of a little bit of "honey". I have found in dealing with people that you can disagree without being disagreeable, yet so many people with whom we come in contact are just that. From time to time in the natural course of events we will come into conflict with our fellow men. When this happens, try "the soft word" in dealing with your business associates, your family or friends. You'll find I am sure that you get a lot farther if those harsh words can be tempered with just a little gentleness, kindness and understanding.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date Unknown

We’ve all heard the saying, “You can’t judge a book by its cover.” I learned this the hard way.  I was in the automobile business for a short time.  Selling cars is a highly competitive business, but I was sure I’d succeed because I felt I could spot a hot prospect.  If a well dressed man walked into the showroom, I was right there to give him service.  On the other hand, I was inclined to pass up some shabbily dressed chap as simply a tire-kicker who had come in to dream a while.  Such a fellow walked into the dealership one day.  He had on dirty overalls, his hands were grease-soiled and his hair needed cutting.  Under his arm he carried his lunch pail and in the other hand he had a case which obviously contained a bowling ball.  “You talk to him, Gord,” I said to one of my fellow workers.  I started in the direction of a bright looking lad in an Ivy League suit with a briefcase under his arm.  When I had determined that this customer was simply waiting for his bus, I turned around to see the other salesman writing up an order.  To my complete astonishment, four of the car-jockeys were rolling out a brand new Lincoln from the showroom.  That’s right.  It was for the man with the lunch pail.  Furthermore it was what they call a “clean deal”.  No trade and it was cash on the barrelhead.  When the Lincoln deal had been sewn up the man with the overalls bought a light delivery truck, again with no trade, and again cash.  Believe me, from that day until this I have never judged a man by what he appears to be.  It cost me some pretty sweet commissions, but I did learn the truth of the old adage, “You can’t judge a book by its cover.”

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

As I fetched him out of the bath last night, and stood him up to dry his small hard little body with a Turkish towel, he looked up at me and said, "do I have to go to school again tomorrow?". I smiled a little and said, "yes, son, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow - for twelve long years you have to go to school”. Then he asked me why people had to go to school, and I must confess my eyes watered a bit, because my first little baby was bewildered… so bewildered, having entered a whole new world in one brief day. I felt sad because I knew that during that one day, my son had grown just a little way away from me. The thin edge of the wedge had been forced between us, and though tonight he needed me very much, there would come a time, perhaps much sooner than I expected, when he would need me less and less, when he would become a part of the new world about him, and instead of watching somewhat apprehensive from the sidelines, he would get in step with the world, would conform with his fellow man, would become a statistic in an enrollment book instead of just my small little, lost boy, who that day had entered his new frustrating, bewildering world… a world of realist… a world that had a little time for dreamers… a hectic, frantic world that moved at a pace almost too frightening to think about. Why do you have to go to school? Beneath my breath, I asked the same question, though the emphasis was different - “oh, why, why do you have to go to school?” Why do you have to learn that there is hate as well as love… that there is filth as well as cleanliness… that there is evil as well as good, that you will not always need your mothers comfort and caress, and your father's protecting arms. You have to go to school to learn, son, so when you grow up you can get a job and earn money and get married, and I thought to myself and have babies of your own… and someday, when you are bathing your own little boy on the first day of school, you'll understand how I feel, and perhaps you'll cry a little, too. "Off to bed, little man. Tomorrow is another day.”

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

A small town lawyer who pretended to be important went around with his head held high and a look of superiority on his face. "Charlie", he asked the courthouse attendant, "why do you walk around with your head down? You should stand straight and proud like I do." “Lawyer Jones”, said Charlie, "in the wheat fields some plants stand up straight while others bend low". "I know that", snapped the lawyer. "Well", observed Charlie, "the wheat that stands too straight ain’t got any grain on it".

There are two kinds of pride. One is the quiet pride of the strong personality. He knows his ability and does not need to flaunt himself. The other kind of pride is paraded pride, a greedy, selfish thief. It's steals a man's finest traits. Paraded pride is not gracious, it only condescends. It has no kindness, it only grant favors. It has no love, but demands adoration. It is not strong, it is easily hurt. It cannot forgive, it must seek revenge. Many of us possess both kinds of pride. We are despised for our paraded pride. We are respected for our quiet pride. Would you be despised, or respected?

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I ran across a cute story which I think you mothers will enjoy. Pushy parents usually get the blame for shoving 11 and 12 year olds into premature dating. But from the love that blooms unabashed in the fourth and fifth grades, I'd say that mothers manned the barricade as long as they were able. A 10-year-old boy I know was recently transferred to a new school. During his lunch hour on the second day, he found this note stuck in the top of his lunchbox. "Dear Freddy. I think you're cute. You may not like me, but do you like Betty? She likes you. Please check if you like me, or if you like Betty. We both love you. Please understand. Love Janet." The little boy, with a candor that simply won't last one more birthday, brought the note home for a little advice. His mother was still trying to figure some way to foot-work out of the weighty problem when the youngster decided to ditch girls forever and build a model car with Jimmy. The problem with playing Ann Landers to the grade school set is that these kids just don't play by the rules. What may appear to the parent to be a normal courtesy; holding a door for a girl loaded down with books for example; may be a public demonstration of undying love and broadcast school-wide by recess. To inject a serious note, if you are lucky enough to have your 10 or 11-year-old confide in you, take him seriously. Laugh or tease and you may never share another confidence with your child.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

As far as sons are concerned, I am one up on Be Cartwright. I have four. This past summer we piled the whole crew into the car and headed for the south where a favorite cousin of mine has a farm. You see, I thought it was about time my lads found out what a horse and cow look like in the flesh. I wanted them to enjoy the thrill of playing in a loft of soft hay and of collecting eggs and catching pigeons. All these things they did and more. They rode the bailer and drove the tractor. They rode bareback across the field and shot gophers with a .22 rifle.  You may think this is pretty tame stuff for kids, but let me remind you that every one of these experiences was a “first" for the boys. They had the time of their lives. I am one of those old fashion fathers who thinks this sort of thing is important. We bought a dryer a while back. Last week it required some servicing. My wife, in talking to the young repairman, told him that ever since it was new, the dryer had given off a peculiar odor when hot. "What did it smell like?" the repairman wanted to know. "Like a skunk really,” my wife replied. "What does that smell like?" the man asked. My wife smiled and asked him if he was a city boy. He was. So you see, there is this gap in our education. Our kids know the smell of a barbecued steak, french fries and auto exhaust, but not the most penetrating order of all.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I stood on the main street of a large American city one evening recently. Passersby must have wondered about me because I was looking straight up. Surrounded as I was by millions of neon lights and flashing bulbs I can see nothing but a blinding glare. I watched the tired, drawn faces of people as they passed me, and I wondered "do they even know there are stars up there in the heavens?” I am sure there are countless millions who live their entire lives in the cement jungles of our cities who never once see the brightness of God's own domain on a crisp fall evening. Were I am millionaire I would set up a fund which would permit the transporting of kids from the slums of our big cities out into the country where they could see the stars and smell leaves burning in the fall and dangle their small feet in a running brook. I never come away from a large city without a thankful prayer that I am a small-town boy who has known and loved the simple things of nature that have been put here for us to enjoy.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I have a friend who has built himself a $100,000 home. I asked him why he required such an elaborate dwelling and he told me it was so his children would have a fine home in which to entertain friends. The week after the home was built the children went away to an exclusive school in the east. The home boasts a magnificent swimming pool but it is seldom used because my friend and his wife spend every summer vacationing away from the city. Their dining room would comfortably accommodate 20 or 25 dinner guests yet they do all of their entertaining at an exclusive club. I have often wondered if this couple ever thinks about all this and consider it pretty silly. Let's face it. They are simply trying to keep up with the Joneses. This attitude of one-upmanship is like a cancer in our modern society. We have become a nation of sheep, spending a lot of money we haven't got to buy a lot of things we don't need, to impress a lot of people we don't really like. It is a happy man who learns early in life that you simply cannot equate material possessions with peace of mind and genuine contentment. I am eternally grateful that I learned this lesson at a tender age. Early in my business career I too tried to keep up with the Joneses. One day I managed to do so and the next the day the Joneses refinanced. That same day I gave up the chase and I've been a poor but happy man ever since.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Tuesday, February 5, 1957

When you start out your day, do you hope it will be successful? "Of course I do!" You say. Well – that isn't the right answer. 

You can do better than that. How? Believe your day will be successful. You may not have any idea right at this moment how important that is. You may even wonder what affect your belief about it could possibly have on your day. But it will go to work for you just the same. 

You see — merely wishing or hoping your day will go well is half doubting. It isn't good enough. A wish or a hope admits the possibility of failure as much as it does the possibility of success. Just quietly know your day will be happy and productive. Expect it. And act according to that belief! That's important. We don't really believe a thing, you know, unless we have enough faith in it to act as though it were true. 

A woman, for example may say indignantly, "Do I trust my husband? Of course I trust him! What a thing to ask. When my husband tells me he has to work late at the office, don't you think I believe him? What an idea!" But as soon as you go out the door, she rushes to her telephone to call his office to make sure he really is there. That's what I mean by not acting according to what we say we believe. Very often we act in a way that proves we don't really believe it. A man who is out of a job may, on the surface, put on a great show of optimism and tell you he just knows today is the day. This is it. Someone is sure to call him today and have him come in to talk about a job. He sounds almost convincing. I say "almost" because the tip off that he doesn't really mean a word he is saying is this: he spends the rest of the morning lying around the house in his old clothes and with a days growth of beard on his face. If he were really expecting to go to an appointment before the day is over, he’d be showered, shaved, and dressed. He doesn't really believe it. If he did, he’d be acting according to that belief. 

Well I've asked you to believe, when you start your day, that it's going to be successful for you. Expect it to be. See yourself being successful. Visualize it in your mind. 

Does that seem weird to you? It isn't. It's one of the most important bits of knowledge about your mind that psychology has discovered so far. A psychiatrist, who of course is an M.D., put it into these words: “Our subconscious minds tend to bring into being, and act consistently with, the mental pictures we have of ourselves… change your mental picture of yourself and you will change your life" end of quotation.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I was a very hot blooded young man. Things that roll off my back today used to bother and upset me terribly. My skin was paper thin and my feelings easily hurt. At the slightest provocation I would fly into a rage and lash out at my adversary. I had a friend at that time who was slightly older than I, and much, much wiser. He was my sounding board. When he would see me in a fit of rage, he simply asked "what's wrong?" That is all he would say. Then he would sit and listen. He offered no advice. He made no comment. He just listened. When I would discover he was not taking sides, either mine or the other fellas, the wind would go out of my sails and I would begin to cool down. When I had run right out of "fury", my friend would quietly say, "I see, well, let's go have a coffee." And that would be that. It is a wonderful thing to have a real true "listener" if you happen to be a person who gets upset easily. Everybody liked my friend for this very reason. He knew how to listen in 11 different languages. I am convinced we all talk too much. I am also convinced that if you would be loved and respected, learn not how to converse, but how to listen.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Tuesday, January 19, 1965

The folks who live and vacation on Long Island Sound spend a great deal of their time on the water. Competitions under sail are frequent, and numbered among the sailors are a great many youngsters. Not too long ago during a competition for children, over 113 small craft were caught out on the sound in a sudden and violent squall. More than half the small sailing boats capsized in the boiling water. Turbulent winds and 5 foot waves scattered the small craft in all directions over a 2 mile area of the open sound, and yet, there was no loss of life. You see all the youngsters stayed with their craft. They had learned well the lessons of water safety that their capsized boat would float even when filled with water. They stayed with their boats and were rescued. When I read this it occurred to me there was a great lesson for living in this story. Everyone has to have someone or something to hang onto when the storms of life start to dish out their worst. Perhaps it's a loved one, maybe a trusted friend to whom we can cling when the going gets hard. It may be your faith in God to which you cling when the waves of life get high and violent. It may even be faith in yourself that sustains you in times of stress, but one thing is certain, when the squalls hit, you need someone or something to hang onto until you get out of the deep waters. It is only when you let go, when you no longer want or will no longer accept the help that is all around you, that you slip into the black waters and drown. If you are being tossed about on the turbulent waters of life right now, if your boat has overturned, just hang on and reach for the many hands that are outstretched to help you. They are there for you to grasp if you'll but see them… if you'll but reach out and accept the help, comfort, peace and serenity which they offer.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I have often thought what a wonderful world it would be if rather than forgiving our enemies, we simply forgot they were enemies. You know, it takes a lot of time and effort to hate someone properly. Furthermore, hate is a very destructive emotion. To hate, you have to think, say and do hateful things. Consider what this does to your enemy. At the least, nothing. At the most, your hate will serve to make a BETTER person of him for he will resolve not to be mean and hateful like you. Should the day ever come when the slate is wiped clean, it is you who will have to be forgiven. When you think you have an enemy, a little honest introspection is indicated. Remember, it is always wiser to forgive and forget, and then you yourself will never find yourself in the position of having to BE forgiven.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

In these hectic, tense times all writers are expected to come forth with an idea or two on what is wrong with the world. Hating to be left out, may I offer my two cents worth. I think there are too many labels in the world. Perhaps it is our search for identity that makes us do it, but we are forever attaching political, religious or social labels on people. In fact we have become so involved with labeling that we have often forgotten to find out what is in the can. I never have liked labels. To me it matters very little if a man is Protestant, Catholic or Jew, whether he's white, black or yellow. I want to find out what kind of man he is, and what makes him tick. We all miss so much in life by steering clear of those whose labels do not match our own. And yet, as the world grows smaller, it's impossible to ignore the fact that we all have different customs, different values and different goals. But rather than dwelling on these differences and letting them erect barriers between us, why not concentrate on our similarities. As members of the human race, we all have a great deal of common ground on which to build international understanding. Why don't you try it for a while? Forget all those labels and find out what's in the can. I assure you, your lead a much fuller and happier life.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

Writing these short inspirational items is very gratifying work. As each is written, it is my sincere hope it will do some good to someone somewhere. I suppose it is good for a man's ego to hear his words read on the radio and to see them in print and yet you know I never permit myself to believe that what I commit to print is more important than the "imprint" I myself make as a person.  I fully realize that my own actions can quickly put the lie to anything I may write if I do not attempt to live according to the things I say. Most of us are not lucky enough to have our thoughts excepted by newspapers and radio stations, but nevertheless each of us can leave our "imprint" on those with whom we come in contact each day. Each person by his kindness, his understanding, his selflessness can make this a much better place in which to live. Today, at home and work, as you meet both friends and strangers, try to live by the wonderful old Golden Rule. Try to leave a favorable "imprint". Try to make this a better world for your having lived here.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I guess the happiest day of my life was the day my first son was born. You see, I have never been a very religious man. I had searched for a strong faith but somehow had never found it. I had never found it I should say until that day I witnessed a miracle of birth. As I looked at my son in all his infant perfection I realized for the first time that this was the work of God. I went home that night and wrote this little poem:

Young Williams was not a religious man, 

Though he lived by his own strict code. 

He never looked for assistance 

Though weary and long was his road.

He wasn't the kind to scoff and sneer 

At those who claim to find God, 

And often he wished that he could pray 

As wearily on he’d plod.

12 months ago, young Williams wed, 

They delivered his son today.

He looked at the babe, his perfect wee babe; 

And then he went home…… to pray.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

Here is a truism for you. Success is never final, and failure never fatal. It's courage that counts. Too bad we can't all learn that lesson. A few years back I lost everything I had. I had to sell a lovely home and move into one room. I had to dispose of all the furniture I've taken years to accumulate and my car also went on the block. The work of fourteen years went right down the drain and I found myself right back at the starting line, but 14 years older. At first I felt very sorry for myself. I was sure that I never again would own a home and furniture and a car. One night as I lay on the bed in my furnished room, I picked up an article on General Douglas MacArthur. Reading of his grim campaigns during the last war, I was impressed by his courage and determination. When he was driven by the enemy out of the Philippines he said, "I shall return." For the time being he was beaten. His success had not been final, nor however was his failure fatal. From that evening on I decided that I too "would return." After all, what did it require? Just an abandonment of self-pity and some determination and hard work. I'm happy to say that I went the full circle back in less than two years. If the state finds you down on your luck; if the deck is stacked against you and you feel the fight is gone, call on your courage to see you through. Take this little model and paste it on the mirror where you can see it every morning. SUCCESS IS NEVER FINAL, AND FAILURE NEVER FATAL.  IT’S COURAGE THAT COUNTS.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

If you have been looking for a job, you no doubt know that today you must have a college education to obtain any position of consequence. In many respects, I think this is wrong. Dr. J.W. Gardner, President of the Carnegie Foundation, has observed, “We place an altogether false emphasis on college education. The prestige which a college degree has achieved in our society leads people – – quite incorrectly – – to assume that college is the only form of continued learning after high school….”

In hiring men, I prefer to look at the man, not his diploma. I remember working for an organization once which insisted on a psychological test before employing an executive. It was a new company, so all the executive staff had to submit to these six hour tests. The man who won the job as general manager what was judged by the test to be a "brilliant, multi-aptitude type." I just got in by the skin of my teeth. 

However, subsequent events proved that the brilliant, multi-aptitude type was in way over his head. He was completely unable to cope with the people around him and after two miserable years he was relieved from his post. Me, the skin-of-the-teether, who had 10 years practical experience in this particular business stayed on for 10 years. I would not like to leave the impression that I am against college educations, for nothing could be farther from the truth. However, a diploma does not necessarily mean a man can handle a job. I have always been of the opinion that education is what you learn regardless of where you learn it.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

On a recent visit to Louisiana I stopped my car to look at a vast teeming area of swamp. Coming from Western Canada such a sight fascinated me. I stood on a small roadway that skirted the area and looked down. The water was green and filled with slime. Every now and then the surface would be broken by a snake that's slithered by in silence. It was ugly and forbidding and I shivered a bit looking at it. But then I looked up and there above me were the green leaves of the live oak hung heavy with lacey spanish moss. Beautiful tropical vines flowed like a carpet from the tops of the trees to the roots below. The scent of rare flowers filled the air and every now and then a snow white graceful egret bird flew by. I wondered as I stood there how many people came to this spot and saw only the muck and mire below the eye level, rather than the beauty that was there to enjoy simply by looking up. It is a pitiful fact that many of us go through life seeing only the dirt simply because we will not open our eyes to the beauty. I was impressed that day too with the fact that all the magnificence above me was actually born in the mire below. I hope you'll remember this little story as you go about your daily chores. Remember there is always dirt if you care to look for it, but if you'll just lift up your eyes, there is beauty.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

A world famous comic visited our town recently. The people promoting his performance arranged an interview for me. On the way to his hotel my car was stopped while road crew completed a small detour around an excavation. I got out of my car to see why we were being delayed. The foreman told me the men were digging a sewer and that we couldn't pass that way. I asked him how much the men made who are working down there in the cold slip in the ground. "About six dollars a day,” he replied. "Is it important work?" I asked him. “Very," he said. "If we didn't have sewers, we'd soon all be ill or die of disease. "Later that day while talking to the comic and his manager I found that he'd make $15,000 for one hour’s work that same evening. I asked the manager if the comic worked hard. "Not really, "he replied. "He uses the same routine in every town and furthermore he has six writers to help him! "The incongruity of this situation bothered me all day. Here we have the sewer digger getting six dollars a day for work that is hard and obviously very important, while the comic gets $15,000 for an hour’s work that comes very easy to him. I thought to myself, surely there is enough to laugh over and cry over in this world without paying for it. I discussed this matter with a man much older and much wiser than I. I asked him why this situation should exist. "Because we are fools,” he replied. You know I think he has something there.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I am firmly convinced after 13 years of fatherhood that inside the head of every child is a small IBM machine that acknowledges and files for future reference any information that the child might at some future date put to good use, while at the same time rejecting the latest parental command if it contradicts what the child believes to be the best thing for him at that particular moment. For example, a small boy will start to bounce a hard rubber ball off his bedroom wall. Father yells at him. "Gordon, will you stop bouncing the ball inside the house. If you want to play ball go outside." Five minutes later, the ball is heard bouncing around the bedroom again. However, if that same small boy should crawl out of bed on the first day of the upland game shooting season, and if he should ask to go along, and if father should say, "you're too young Gord. I'll take you out in four or five years when you get older," you can count on that lad showing up at his fathers bedside with pack and gun four years to the moment from the time of dad’s promise. He'll look at father and say, "you promised!“ So like I say, I am convinced that each small child comes equipped with a small but highly efficient IBM machine tucked neatly inside his noggin.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I have often wondered why it is that man, who is able to understand the mysteries of space travel, cannot grasp the simple needs of the human spirit for love and understanding. In the area of scientific development and research we are rich indeed, but in the field of human relations we are a bankrupt civilization. Let's consider these words of US General Omar Bradley. He said, “We have too many men of science in too few men of God. We have grasped the mysteries of the atom, and rejected the Sermon on the Mount. The world has achieved brilliance without wisdom, power without conscience. Ours is a world of nuclear giants and ethical infants. We know more about war than we know about peace, more about killing than we know about living." Wise words indeed, and yet I think it would be a pity to assume that men of science are not also men of God. We have always had wars, or talks of wars. I imagine we always will. But it is well to remember that freedom is not something to be won and then forgotten. As long as there is one tyrant left in the world we will need these men of science standing like a Gibraltar in the hostile sea against all those who would attempt to take from us the things we prize so dearly; the things for which so many of our young men have laid down their lives. Building bigger, more terrible weapons for the protection of our way of life may be just as much Gods work as preaching from the pulpit. It would be a mistake to equate science with ungodliness.

Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

At the risk of sounding ridiculous, I would like to say that man, living as he does in a constant state of controversy and strife with others who inhabit this terrestrial sphere, can learn a lot from the seagull. The goal is a marvelous bird. He is a rugged individualist with a highly developed regard for the sanctity of private property. Its moral life is beyond reproach. Courting is conducted with dignity and ceremony, and once wed, the seagull is monogamous and devoted to its family. Divorce is unheard of and scandals of the sort which rock the great empires as in the world of men are considered by the gulls to be in unacceptable bad taste. The most ingenious and civilized of seagull folksways are the rules of chivalrous combat. A head held high is the most heinous of offenses, but so long as a gull holds his head in, he is immune from attack. A tucked-in head is a permanently available form of diplomatic immunity, sacred and inviolable. When seagulls do fight they seldom go beyond the ceremonial expressions of hostility. They are likely to puff out their wings until one or the other commits ultimate provocation by leaning over and pulling grass. For the goal, this act is so terrifying that the fight usually ends right there. If you will check on the marvelous seagull, you will find that all I have said here is true. It takes very little imagination to conceive of the benefits which would accrue to humanity if we were able to apply such civilized techniques to our own rivalries. But all this, I suppose, is idle nonsense, suitable enough for the mindless seagull but hardly worthy of the most exalted of gods creatures.