Coral Gables Historical Archive
Coral Gables Riviera
Friday, November 7, 1941, page 6 (of 8)
The page
The text of this pageRead by computer from the scan, so some words may be wrong. The page picture is the original.
CORAL GABLES RIVIERA
AN INDEPENDENT COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER Published every Friday by the Miami Riviera Publishing Co., 366 Coral Way, Coral Gables, Fla. Established January, 1926 Combined with the Dade County and Coconut Grove Times, 1929. ALBERT E. HARUM President and Publisher JAMES B. MOORE Managing Editor Mailing Address, P. O. Box 704 Telephone 4-1634 Member, Florida Press Association National Editorial Association Represented in the National Advertising Field by the American Press Association, New York City SUBSCRIPTION RATES One Year by Carrier, Coral Gables and Six Months $1.25 One Year $2.00 Entered as second class matter May 21, 1926, at the Postoffice at Miami, Florida, under Act of March 3, 1879.
The Path Is Cleared
At the meeting of the Woman's Club last Monday, the authority to reach an agreement on the community house situation was vested in the executive board by an overwhelming majority vote of the membership. Just prior to that, for the first time since the difficulty arose, a joint plea was filed in Washington by the club and the city. From these indications it would seem that the pathway to an amicable settlement of differences has at last been cleared. If the plea for a department of justice ruling is refused or if the ruling is handed down—then both bodies are now in a position to act promptly and abide by the ruling or negotiate some satisfactory agreement for the return of the deed to the city.
His Right and Our Duty
Again on this Armistice Day, the highest dignitaries of the land will gather at a grave in Arlington Cemetery to pay honor to the unknown soldier who represents all who fell in the last World War. No one knows who this unknown soldier is. He may have come from any part of the nation—from some teeming factory town or from behind the plow. No one knows or cares who or what his ancestors were, whether he was among the humble or the favored of fortune, or by what path he sought to climb to the heights to sit humbly with his God. All that is known is that he gave his life for the United States. What he was, is not of import. It is what he did and what he has passed on to us the living that is vital. Heroes are an inspiration, not a creed—an altar from which to progress, not a grave by which to mourn. We truly honor our dead not by making their earthly resting place a spot of beauty and of peace, but by completing the task they set out to do. We dishonor them when we leave undone the work for which they gave their lives. Unknown means not recognized. But the task that the Unknown Soldier left is recognized by all of us. He was an American—not rich, not poor; not Protestant, Catholic or Jew; not a German-American, a Russian-American, an Italian-American; not a "son of the American Revolution", not an immigrant—but just a citizen of the United States—an American who loved his country and its ideals of freedom and equality enough to offer his life that these ideals of justice and democracy might not perish. It is for us the living to carry on where he left off—to rededicate ourselves to those ideals which carved this country from the wilderness, formed it into a confederation, welded it into a nation, and made it and its Constitution the hope and the aspiration of the oppressed multitudes of the Old World. Our pledge of the continuance of these ideals is the wreath of immortelles we must lay on the grave of the Unknown Soldier this Armistice Day 1941. It is his right—and our duty!—R. T.
A Britisher's Gratitude
We feel that the residents of Coral Gables who have been entertaining the RAF cadets in their homes could receive no greater reward than the gratitude expressed by an English father last week in a letter to Earl DeNoon. "He has never been so far afield before", the father wrote, "and it was delightful to know that he was made to feel so welcome and so much 'at home' by you good folks in Coral Gables. It was indeed a great relief to his mother and me." This British father speaks for the parents of all the cadets now in America. From Coral Gables has gone forth to the British Isles, glowing accounts of the hospitality shown by local people to these boys. It's one of the best ways we can think of for bringing about international understanding.
Suitable Leaders
In these times ,when the selection of suitable leaders is of such vital importance, we are glad to note the recent election of two capable men to head two important local organizations. In the selection of Boice Miller, re-elected president of the Country Club of Coral Gables and in W. L. Gray, Jr., who will head the Kiwanis Club, the members of these groups have shown wisdom. To the clubs go our congratulations and to the presidents our best wishes for successful administrations.
OFF THE CUFF by Jim Moore
There came to our attention this week a very interesting type of calendar. Prepared by the Myer-Both Advertising Company in the interests of advertising promotion, it lists all the various types of "Weeks" that we Americans celebrate during the course of a year. When we had finished scanning the 365 days for 1941 we were more or less groggy and thoroughly convinced that tucked away somewhere in Washington there must be a B.F.T.U.A.K.O.W.T.C. in addition to the F.H.A., W.P.A., A.A.A., S.E.C. and the other alphabetical agencies In case the letters puzzle you we mean the "Bureau for Thinking Up All Kinds of Weeks to Celebrate". We're certainly sorry that we didn't scrutinize this calendar earlier, because here the year is almost over and we've discovered that we've missed out in the celebration of all kinds of things. However, we have the comforting thought that in 1942 the same weeks will be celebrated again plus a lot of new ones, and we will have a chance to get in on the fun. Still left in 1941 are "Father and Son Week", November 10 to 16; "Red Cross Week", November 11 to 30th; "National Prosperity Week", December 1 to 6 and of course "Christmas Week". Most of those celebrations are self-explanatory except "National Prosperity Week", which leaves us a bit puzzled. The calendar gives us little or no explanation as to how this week is celebrated. Maybe we'll wake up some morning to find a pot of gold under the bed or Uncle Sam will tell us to forget all about our income tax this year, but we're sort of skeptical. Anyway, we will at least buy a 10-cent cigar and stroll down Ponce de Leon Boulevard feeling at least prosperous, and thus do our bit to help celebrate. We can't tell you what new weeks to expect in 1942 as the B.F.T.U.A.K.O.W.T.C. hasn't issued its annual report, but by scanning the present list, we can give you an inkling of what to expect, so that you can also be ready to celebrate. In January comes "National Thrift Week" when we can all give our piggy banks an extra ration of nickles and thus take part in the national celebration. February brings "Sew and Save Week" looked forward to by the Needlework Circle with great anticipation. Scheduled for March is "Girl Scout Anniversary Week" and Baseball Week", setting up celebrations for both boys and girls. April is just chock full of "Weeks" with fun for all. (We can hardly wait). Starting off with ."National Garden Week", in quick succession we run through "National Foot Health Week", "National Fisherman's Week," "National Better Homes Week" and "National Baby Week" until we're practically breathless. May is also a very "weeky" month with "National Hardware Spring Open House Week", "National Egg Week", "National Restaurant Week", "National Golf Week", "National Cotton Week", "National First Aid Week" and "National Buddy Poppy Week". In the same month we officially celebrate Moving Day, Mother's Day, Straw Hat Day and Memorial Day. The whole summer is liberally sprinkled with weeks to celebrate, starting in June with "National Luggage and Leather Goods Week" which should be lots of fun, running through "Cheese Week", "Cherry Week", "Send a Child to Camp Week", "Better Parenthood Week" ad infinitum. If any of you readers have your own ideas about weeks that should be celebrated, there are still a few open spots on the calendar for 1942, but we'd suggest that you get your bids in fast. As far as we're concerned, we say the more the merrier, and that maybe some day we'll reach the state of celebrating three different weeks all at once, thereby heating ourselves into a state of utter exhaustion. That however, should be taken up with the Bureau in Washington, if it really exists. If it doesn't, a note to your congressman should be sufficient to have it created. We might even have a "Write to Your Congressman to Set Up the B.F.T.U.A.K.O.W.T.C. Week".
IN OUR MAIL BAG
Editor, Riviera: It seems to me that the Telephone Company which serves Coral Gables should be made aware of the ever growing dissatisfaction of its patrons who are forced to make a trip to Miami to pay their bills. Does it seem too much to ask of a company which takes at least $20,000 a month in tolls, and probably more, from this community, to set up a $30 a month office for receiving monthly payments of telephone? Or does the telephone company, which, hilariously, always places the emphasis on "service" in its ads, think we are going to be suckers forever? Like many persons, I have no checking account, and no car, and I feel that it is a downright imposition to force me to take a trip by bus to Miami each month to pay my telephone bill. And it isn't helping other merchants of the community who really have Coral Gables at heart, to see residents of the Gables sent out of town each month to pay their telephone charges—and possibly to spend money elsewhere which might go to local stores. I think it behooves the Riviera to campaign for a local telephone office, where bills can be paid in cash. In the meantime, I'm having my phone removed and will use my neighbor's, paying half of her bill. If others who are annoyed by the dis-service of the telephone company would do likewise, perhaps the fall in revenue might convince the utility of what they have not the sense to realize now: that we want, and deserve, the service for which we pay. B. J. R.
Deep Sea Fishing
(NWU Service)
Dollars and Sense By ROMEYN W. SMITH Investment Consultant
Most investors do not make a study of the history of economics. Probably they do not know, for instance, that the volume of world business and credit always has increased faster than the world supply of that base on which the superstructure of business and credit rests—Gold. History is repeating itself. Inflation is no new thing. It has occured time and time again, usually as an aftermath of great wars. Prior to the present war, England has a record of five inflations over a period of 700 years. Over 600 years ago an ounce of gold in England was worth 22 shillings 91⁄2 pence. In 1468 inflation raised the price of gold to 32 shillings 91⁄2 pence. The inflation of 1549 raised the price to 60 shillings; 1665 to 80 shillings 11 pence; 1816 to 84 shillings 111⁄2 pence and since 1931 it has stood rather unstably at 130 shillings per ounce. The price of the money base—gold—has risen steadily in terms of the currencies of the world, from one price plateau to another, ever since money supplanted barter as a means of transacting business. The "purchasing power of money" is ever decreasing. French and French investors, who did not understand, or take the trouble to find out, leamed the inflation lesson to their sorrow from 1918 on. In Germany entire fortunes, if kept in bonds and mortgages, were wiped out completely. In France it was not so bad—but bad enough. French holders of fixed income securities lost only about 65%, in terms of what they could buy with their money after their inflation. The Frenchman who had planned to retire on 10,000 francs per year was able to pay only 1/3 of his living expenses. If he had saved to build a house for 50,000 francs, he discovered that he needed 150,000 francs. In Germany, the unit of measure, the mark, became so small in value after 1918 that it took millions of marks to buy a loaf of bread. Of course, no one in America expects our inflation to resemble Germany's. No one in Germany did either; nor in France; nor in England. But a few did understand and learned how to conserve their capital. The others lost—all or a large percentage, depending upon the degree of inflation. How far will inflation go? How long will it take? We wish we could tell you with certainty. No one can tell in advance just how far it will go. That depends upon numerous factors—how much more, if any, the dollar is cut; how much more money is required for our defense program and for a possible "shooting" war; how much more money is pumped into the country via relief, public works and all the other alphabetical agencies; the price of commodities at the beginning of inflation; supply and demand of each individual commodity as the months and years go by; the trend of world prices, tarrifs, etc. The insidiousness of the inflation disease lies in its stealth. It creeps upon us. The effects at first are slight. Many investors become alarmed and then are lulled to a false sense of security when nothing happens in a hurry. Usually there are temporary delays and reactions which deceive others into believing that it has "blown over." It is a long, slow process—a typical "long trend" movement, as described in our second article. Short swing secondary reactions will happen again and again. Week-to-week and month-to-month fluctuations will be with us as well, but the "long trend" is the important thing to guard against. In France, it took seven years for the full measure of inflation to develop; and in Germany, where the wreck was complete, it took five years. Do not be deceived by the "price ceilings" being established from Washington, particularly since our "patriotic" politicians have not placed price ceilings on wages and agricultural products. The danger is here. What can we do about it? Next week we shall make some suggestions about how to protect and defend ourselves against inflation.
Too Late to Classify By RUSSELL KAY
My friend Dinty Dennis, Director of the Metropolitan Miami Fishing Tournament, recently called my attention to the splendid work being done by the Dade County Conservation Council in transforming the slimy, weed-choked drainage ditches into beautiful streams of clear flowing water, through the removal of hyacinths, weeds and trash. Because these canals and ditches had been allowed to clog, thousands of game fish died each year during the low water period and the streams were just about depleted of bass, bream and crappie. Sports fishermen, in disgust, quit even trying, and the word went out that fishing in the canals of the 'glades are was just "a waste of time". Erl Roman, Fishing Editor of the Miami Herald, concurred that if the streams have been clean and restocked these waterways would become a real sportsman's paradise, and largely at his insistence the Miami Rod and Reel Club undertook the task of clearing them. Hundreds of sportsmen contributed $5 each to further the work and to date twenty-five miles along the Miami Canal have been cleaned. Just as Roman predicted, the fishing improved as the work progressed. Not only did bass, bream and crappie become plentiful but, attracted by the fresh clean water, baby tarpon, snook and other varieties of salt water fish began to make inquisitive journeys to the interior and many fishermen got the thrill of their lives hooking these fighting fish on light casting rods or fly tackle. Few people ever stop to realize what "good fishing" means to a community or section. The world is full of folks who like to fish, and for the most part these sportsmen are liberal spenders. They come by train, plane and car for an opportunity to pit their skill against game members of the finny tribe. Stopping at good hotels, they patronize local merchants, purchasing sportswear, expensive tackle, gasoline and oil—and they usually stay as long as the "fishin' is good". Each season this type of sportsmen leaves millions of dollars in the state. But even the chap who comes in a trailer or puts up at a tourist camp an ddoes his fishing with a cane pole usually proves to be a profitable investment for the communities that cater to him. Fishermen are hobbiests and they love to tell of their experiences. Let them have the thrill of catching a 40-pound tarpon on a light rod or landing a 10-pound black bass with a fly rod, and they can be depended upon to tell the world about it. Pop-eyed listeners make mental notes and at the first opportunity you will find them down here trying their luck and hoping that they will have a bigger tale to tell when they get home. During the past few years, several communities catering to tourists have conducted surveys to determine what brought them the most tourists and what interests the winter visitor. In almost every case "Fishing" stood at the top of the list. It appeals to all ages and all classes. Women are as ardent "fishermen" as men in many instances. The State Conservation authorities have been trying to do a job, but politics and lack of funds have proved a handicap to the end that many of our lakes and streams today are depleted. Game laws are not rigidly enforced; nets and traps are still used illegally; game wardens are few and far between and convictions are rare. The Dade County Conservation Council and the Miami Rod and Reel Club are doing a great work not alone for their own section but for the state as a whole. They are paying out of their own pockets to further a conservation program that rightly belongs to the State. Dade County and all Florida owe them a debt of gratitude and should lend every aid and encouragement. Other sections of the state would do well to profit by their example. If sportsmen, business men, chamber of commerce officials and political leaders would unite on a statewide effort to REALLY protect and conserve "sports fishing" in this state, all would benefit. It would bring thousands of additional tourists here and result in increased revenues for State, counties and cities. "Good Fishing" is "Good Business".
Page Mr. Ripley!
SUN CITY, Nov. 6 (F. N. S.)—J. T. Fleming of this community in South Hillsborough County, may not have bitten the dog, but he is "news" all the same. In fact, even the hardest-boiled manageditor would have to admit that Fleming has gone the proverbial dog-biter one better. Fleming wants his taxes raised! He not only wants them raised but he is actually suing county officials to force them to raise the assessment on his property. It will be hard for even Ripley to believe that, but it is true. Fleming wants the assessments raised so the school district taxes will be increased, and he complains thta the tax assessments has valued his realty 50 per cent below his own sworn statement, improvements 33 1-3 per cent less, personal property 33 1-3 per cent less.
This ONE'S ON YOU
MASSACRE—Little Billy Doxey was playing Indians with his Uncle Charlie Leyden the other day—and enjoying it! Uncle Charlie was enjoying it too! The pair stalked stealthily about the Doxey back yard popping off wild Indians like nobody's business. Then for a moment there was quiet. "How many Indians you reckon we killed, Uncle Charlie?" Billy asked. "Well, now, let's see," answered Uncle Charlie. "You got two behind that tree, and six over there, and four out on Country Club Prado. And I—I got three round that corner. Well, I reckon between us we must have bagged about 20." For the next few minutes little Billy turned these statistics over in his mind, contemplated well the terrific massacre he had accomplished with the aid of his Uncle Charlie. A few minutes later Billy expressed a fond hope and wish to his uncle. Said he: "I sure wish I had some real Indian arrowheads." Said Uncle Charlie: "Well why don't you just go outside and search some of our victims. You'll surely be able to find at least a half dozen arrowheads that way." Little Billy's forehead furrowed and he looked his Uncle Charlie over with a professional eye. "Say," he said, "you don't think we really killed any Indians, do you? You know we were only making believe?" "No," said Uncle Charlie, "as far as I'm concerned it was real business." Billy wagged his worried head, ran down Country Club Prado in search of more realistic companions. * * * ARCHITECTURAL FORUM—From the Kiwanis Bulletin we glean this one:—Bill Merriam was testing out his, son's knowledge of history and asked the question, "Can you tell what contribution Phoenctia made to the stream of history?" Quickly came the reply—"Sure Dad, Phoenetian Blinds." * * * RARE SINGING—When Gertrude Hardeman (Of Royal Typewriter Fame) came out of her house the other morning to hail several neighborhood children and her own to school, she found her son embroiled with another young man. There was much swinging and Gertrude had no small job separating the embattled pair. Adopting a stern exterior she debated with herself all the way to the school building as to what disciplinary measures she might adopt to put an end once and for all to such pugilistic encounters. Then, said Gertrude to herself: "I must determine the cause of this one before I can prevent future battles." "What," asked Gertrude of her young son, "were you two fighting about? What started the fight?" "Well," answered Richard, the Lion Hearted, "he said he heard you singing in the bathroom and that your voice isn't worth a darn. Nobody can say my mother doesn't know how to sing and get away with it." Thus ended the disciplinary program for the day. * * * SABBATH—Little Alec Woodhull was cut walking with his dad on Sunday, was attracted by choir music in church they were passing. Alec begged to go in and listen, to which Dad acquiesced. They were just inside the doors when the minister said "Let Us Pray"—Alec folded his hands in reverent attitude and began the Lord's Prayer in a loud and firm voice. The minister hadn't chosen that particular prayer. Later in the service while the minister indulged in serious oratory, little Alec turned to his Dad and asked loudly (in a firm voice): "Is the manager mad about something?" * * * THE CAT'S MEOW—We haven't seen proof yet, but Irene (Yrene) McConnell claims that her kitten is just about the smartest animal in Coral Gables. The pet is so intelligent, Irene tells us, that when she drives home at night and gets going too fast the cat taps her on the shoulder. Also in the cat line, Mrs. Harry Simpson was in the office the other day and informed us that her white kitty has one green eye and one blue one. * * * SLIGHT ERROR—A local contractor was a bit perturbed this week when he discovered that after completing the pouring of the footings on a new house he was erecting, he had started it on the wrong lot. * * * SMALL WORLD—Mrs. James Denny Thompson of Washington, Pa., who is here visiting her daughter, Mrs. Jim Moore, was alone in the house the other morning when the Fuller Brush man called. In the process of purchasing a broom, Mrs Thompson learned that the salesman was from Dormont, a town just a few miles away from Washington.