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Page 4, Terrace Bay-Schreiber News, Wednesday, September 11, 1985 : ace Bay Teaiser y EDITOR OFFICE David Carswell Gayle Fournier Mary Melo The Terrace Bay-Schreiber News is published every Wednesday by: Laurentian Publishing Co. Ltd., Box 579, Terrace Bay, Ontario, POT 2WO. Telephone: (807) 825-3747. y Gna ees Christmas in September by David Carswell I arrived at the News Office the other morning and readied myself for my daily task of opening and sorting the numerous press releases, bills and other assorted letters that we receive. After a few items destined to be filed under "*G", I came across a couple of envelopes marked "For immediate release." Quite often these releases are at least interesting, if not downright important, so I read on. Believe it or not, but both of these letters dealt with prepara- tions for Christmas! Is it my imagination or is Christmas still 4 months away? I used to think that it was outrageous when the Eaton's Santa Claus Parade, from Toronto, was televised during the first weekend of November, but now I know that things have gone too far when I start receiving stories about Christmas during the first week of September! Back in the days of the now-defunct Rhino Party, one of their campaign promises was to take severe action against business or organization who men- tioned anything about Christmas before the first of December. The more I think about it, the more I think that maybe that wasn't such an absurd idea after all. For years we've been hearing 'about the commercialization of Christmas and how the general public was losing sight of the original meaning of Christmas. There was a time when I didn't put much stock in that philosophy, but over the last couple of years I have begun to see the reasons for the ex- istance of this argument. I guess if I was still a kid, I'd be thrilled with the idea of early Christmas reminders, giving me that much more time to compile.a huge Christmas list, but I've always believed that the best time for Christmas shopping was the day before. It's not that I enjoy leaving things to the last minute but the last - thing I need is for someone to remind me that there are only 89 shopping days left until Christmas! If someone reminds me a couple of days in advance then I am certain to remember to pick up gifts for everyone on my list. When I have 4 months advance notice I find myself worrying about what to get for the person who has everything or what to get for that special someone. Leaving things to the last minute, I don't have to worry about these things, I can just fall back on the old reliables - a pair of socks or a tie for Dad, some perfume for Mom, a book or a record album for my sisters. Sure it lacks imagination and could even be considered down-right boring, but at least I'm not losing sleep over it! Come to think of it, maybe I've fallen into the very trap of over- commercializing Christmas, which I set out to condemn in this editorial. Oh _ well, maybe I should just take my coffee break and do some Christmas shopp- ing. (I hear that there is a sale on ties and socks over at the department store.) "HES FROM BAGGAGE CONTROL, AND ALREADY HE'S LOST THREE (IARTINIS '(AN ROUTED TWO BEERS AND 4 MILK 70 JHE WRONG DESTINATIO. = Did You Know (NC) -- Thanks to new surgical techniques and spinal support systems, doc- tors have been able to extend the life expectancy of boys with Duchenne muscular dystrophy 5 to 6 years beyond the previously fatal range of 15 years. Through rain and snow ... and 75 years I guess by most standards you would have to say that Earl Guenther's pro- fessional life is not all that exciting. He pursues it in Dashwood, Ontario for starters. Dashwood is a wide sport in a southern Ontario road approx- imately half way between two slightly wider sports called Exeter and Grand Bend -- all down in that little goatee of the province known as Southwestern Ontario. Earl's the postman in Dashwood. He gets up a little before five each workday morning, chugs over to Ex- eter to meet the mail truck, sorts the mail and spends the rest of his day delivering letters and bills and newspapers and supermarket flyers to ~ all the people on his route. Truth to tell, Earl doesn't look any racier than his job description reads. Earl looks... well, old fashioned. He's got one of those Keysone-Kops-style caps perched on his skull, shading a craggy face that looks a little bit like Buster Deaton's toward the end of his career. Earl's wardrobe leans to linen long- sleeved shirts with starched collars and cuffs, and to heavy, volluminous dress pants with pleats and cuffs with a matching vest that any theatrical conipany would lust after. Especial- ly if they were putting on a Charles Dickens production. Earl's got the pockets of the verst crammed with pens and pencils,a notebook, one pocket comb and a leather case for his glasses, which he refers to as spectacles. And running from the top buttonhole on the right lapel to a con- spicuous lump in the lower left hand vest pocket is a heavy chain the col- our of butter left out in the sun. Earl's the only man I know who still tells time by a gold pocket watch. And so far, that's the only remarkable thing I've told you about Earl Guenther. Actually there are one or two things about him that I haven't mentioned. One is his age: Earl's 89 years old. The second thing is his length of ser- vice. When Earl first reported for work at the Dashwood Post Office, Edward VII sat on the-British throne, Sir Wilfrid Laurier presided over this dominion and the Archduke Ferdi- nand was a minor European aristocrat, several years away from being at the receiving end of the Shot Heard Round the World. The date was July 1, 1910. You won't have to break out your Radio Shack pocket calculator to figure out that Earl's been slugging mailbags and squinting at addressess for the past 75 years. Isn't that some kind of record? Hands down. A Canada Post official says that according to corporation records, nobody's even come close. 'The nearest we could find,"says the spokesman, "was a carrier in the Ot- tawa valley area who had been car- rying mail for something more than 50 years."' Fifty years? A mere half century? Hah! Earl Guenther was but a callow youth at that point in his career, bare- ly 64 years old, looking forward to another 25 years -- so far -- on the job. How did he manage to get himself hired on at the Post Office. if he was only 14? "I was already six feet tall,"says Earl. What's more he'd been handling horses, wagons and even stage coaches for a few years. '*People were so used to seeing me driving around that nobody question- ed or asked anything about my age."' Apparently Earl's run into a similar streak of luck at the other end of his career. By my calculation, Earl Guenther's been past retirement age for longer than Wayne Gretsky's been alive. Most folks throw in the towel at sixty or sixty-five, putter around in the garden for a few sum- mers then head off to Fort Lauder- dale to solar-fry a few wrinkles. But not Earl. He just keeps slinging mail bags. Which probably accounts for the fact that he's a hale and hearty 89 instead of pushing up-marble or wear- ing a bib at some Fort Lauderdale Golden Agers Rest Home. Imagine: eighty-nine years old and still going strong! Seventy- five years on the job, with no plans to retire. Every morning that old Earl gets up at the crack of dawn, slips into his 'uniform', checks his big gold pocket watch and steps out of the door, he's setting a new record for length of ser- vice. He's already had a career that spans the gap from horses and bug- gies to moon shots and space shuttles And he claims he has no plans to retire. Why does he do it? Why doesn't Earl Guenther just hang up his cap and take the rest of his life off? He's got a very simple answer to that. '*People need me,"he says. You can bet your sack of Her Ma- jesty's Mail on that. Hang in there, Earl.