Dear people
Please stop driving your cars. I'm gonna put a rope and a stop sign on the roads 'cuz I don't want the cars to drive. Gasoline is bad for the polar bears.
Naya Altieri (four years old)
Whitefish
Winter royalty needs new chariot
I am writing in support of a most deserving group, the Whitefish Winter Carnival. The Carnival is in need of a new float and they could use our help.
A well made, long lasting, attractive float with Whitefish Winter Carnival Royalty on board is an exciting and important way to represent our city at home and throughout the Northwest and Canada.
Let's honor our Whitefish Winter Carnival royalty by helping to bring to Whitefish a new, self-contained, quiet-rechargeable electric-motorized float of which all of Whitefish will be proud.
If you have ever enjoyed our Winter Carnival and believe in the magic it brings to our town in February, please join me in sending a tax deductible donation to Whitefish Winter Carnival Float Fund, P.O. Box 37, Whitefish MT 59937. For information call Howard Austin at 862-3525. Thank You for considering this worthy project.
Nancy Svennungsen
Whitefish
Death of a
monument
John Thorson was a very humble man, and the day after his passing, I placed an amber rose at an empty seat at the table where his friends of so many years were seated and said, "Someone is missing here." For Whitefish, yet another library has burned but will never be forgotten.
I believe it was back in 1975 that my dad, Herb Potter, and myself were asked to build a monument in the Whitefish Cemetery to be dedicated to those who served unselfishly on the Whitefish Volunteer Fire Department, of which John was a member for 22 years, I believe. We went to work.
It was a special time my dad and I spent together. I cut the stone, and he would mortar them in place. Through time, the memorial was complete.
My dad passed on in 1984, and while serving in the U.S. Navy, I would always check on our memorial during periods of leave.
After my retirement in 1999, I moved back to Whitefish, became active in the community, and it was through the town's Christmas decorations, I met John, a good man.
Periodically, I maintained a vigil watch on my monument while back home to see that it was doing well and was in need of repair.
It was mid-March of this year. I went to check on my monument only to find that it had been torn down. There I stood, looking. I shuffled about, reached down, picked up a stone for a keepsake, and then left.
Not only was a memorial destroyed, but for many the memories with it.
Howard K. Potter
Whitefish