Once a pushcart gets rolling, you never know where it is going to stop. That may be the essential lesson of the Reed Intermediate School’s Pushcart Day. The end-of-the-school-year event has raised thousands of dollars over the years for causes ranging from autism research to the Women’s Center in Danbury. In the past two years, however, the impact of this annual fundraising effort has been amplified and redirected to children in West Africa where their charitable giving is not just lending a helping hand but transforming lives
There is a certain subset of Newtown inhabitants who don’t need signs or maps to identify Church Hill Road. They see the churches from stone steps to spires, and their own heart rates and respiration tell them it is a hill. They are sidewalk walkers. We see them every day from our office perch on the eastern slope of Church Hill within earshot of the snap of the town’s famous flag — just below where the sidewalk ends. Unfortunately, it is not the magical and poetic place made famous in every child’s imagination by Shel Silverstein. In the final 300-foot stretch to the top of the hill, where vehicles crowd simultaneously left and right to negotiate the tricky and busy intersection, pedestrians must leave the curb, join the fray, and hope for the best.
At the end of next month, the highway account of the federal Highway Trust Fund is expected to run out of money. Another fund for mass transit is scheduled to meet the same fate in October. Governor Dannel P. Malloy warned last week that protracted partisan paralysis in Congress could imperil more than 80 state highway, bridge, and rail projects, valued at $650 million, scheduled to start in the next fiscal year. This comes at a time when the federal Department of Transportation rates three-quarters of Connecticut’s roads as being in poor or mediocre condition. US Transportation Secretary Anthony Foxx told the governor July 3 that the continuing political stalemate in Washington “is not something you can afford.”
Almost as soon as the armed assault on Sandy Hook School abruptly ended on December 14, 2012, cascades of information flowed outward to the world — some of it false, some of it true, some of it useless, some of it essential. Concurrently, there was an emotional response that was beyond telling but which moved with such power and force that it perturbed the flow some of the most useful information at a critical time for those victims’ families at the center of the tragedy. That was one of the poignant insights shared last week with the governor’s appointed Sandy Hook Advisory Commission by David and Francine Wheeler, parents of Benjamin Wheeler, who died at the school that tragic morning.
Newtown’s congressional representatives announced ten days ago that the town had secured another federal grant — this one $7.1 million from the Department of Justice — for mental health services and school safety measures. It is the latest infusion of money from the government in the wake of the December 2012 tragedy at the Sandy Hook Elementary School, following earlier grants from the Office for Victims of Crime and the US Department of Education’s School Emergency Response to Violence program totaling $4.7 million. No one was prepared for the local horror of 12/14, and nothing seems to impel the flow of federal money like after-the-fact “precautions” in the wake of profound tragedy.
This is the season when, after years of having their heads filled with ideas, ranks of graduates put on caps and gowns and contain their excitement long enough to hear a succession of speakers offer a few final insights before they step out into the future. Whatever the horizon looks like from beneath the mortarboard this year, two things are certain: the future is brighter with a college education and a college education is now so expensive that its financial obligations are likely to be a part of that future for a long time to come.
The streets have names like Old Farm Road, Washington Square Street, Fairfield Circle, Primrose Street, and Loop Lane. It sounds like a nice neighborhood, except no one lives there.
When Newtown bought the 186-acre Fairfield Hills core campus from the state in 2004, the $3.9 million purchase embodied the town’s hopes for an enhanced community through a variety of desired development, from athletic fields for the young to facilities and programs for senior citizens — but no housing.
We publish The Newtown Bee this week on June 6, the 70th anniversary of the D-Day invasion in Normandy. It was the largest seaborne invasion in history, which ultimately restored the French Republic and set the stage for the Allied victory over Nazi Germany. Few who took part in Operation Overlord are still alive. Those who survive are in their 90s, and the passage of time quiets their first-person stories of this historic date. No one gave voice to the wartime experiences of GIs in World War II better than Ernie Pyle, the Pulitzer Prize-winning war correspondent for the Scripps Howard newspaper chain, who was himself killed in action by Japanese machine gun fire on a small island near Okinawa in April 1945. To remind ourselves of the incalculable personal sacrifices made by ordinary soldiers for the greater cause of humanity, we offer this column by Ernie Pyle about what he witnessed on the beaches of Normandy that June 70 years ago:
The tenth edition of Newtown’s Relay For Life takes place overnight Saturday into Sunday, this weekend. It returns to the Newtown High School Blue & Gold Stadium after several years at Fairfield Hills. Scores of teams and hundreds of registered participants will be on track, literally, to raise hundreds of thousands of dollars to support the American Cancer Society. In the decade since Newtown’s first Relay in 2004, the local event has raised more than $2.4 million. The Relay teams in Newtown are joining more than four million people in 20 countries in what has become a fundraising juggernaut in support of the fight against cancer.
A fundamental rule of communication is that the quality of information depends on the path it travels. Direct is better than circuitous. Primary sources are better than secondary or tertiary sources. We learn this as kids by playing the “telephone” game, passing a word or phrase ear-to-ear around a circle transforming nickels into pickles, church steeples into birch people, and giving everyone a good laugh along the way. So, a proposal making the rounds of Newtown’s public safety departments and agencies to move the town’s Emergency Communications Center at 3 Main Street to a regional center 25 miles away in Prospect seems, on the face of it, to violate this basic rule. Because, as Newtown knows all too well, the quality of information in emergencies is no laughing matter, the plan has drawn a lot of questions, many of which still have no definitive answers.