LETTERS from Gazette Readers - to Gazette Readers - December 2019
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Dear Petaluma,
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kindness during the evacuation from the Kinkaid fire. As we all felt the shock of having to leave our homes and wondering if we would have anything to come back to, being given such a warm welcome in such difficult circumstances, helped ease the shock of it all. We thank the pub owners who allowed us to bring our dog in and the people who took time to show interest in our situation. To the custodians who took care of Walnut Park and leaving the bathroom open (we stayed in our car next to the park) and the person who offered a bath to the evacuees. We didn’t take them up on it, but I was so touched by their very gracious offer. In a world with so much unrest, I feel truly grateful to the amazing residents of Petaluma who gave us a sense of normalcy during this difficult time. Val Larson, Camp Meeker
Do you remember...
Do you remember....limber? Tan, another business owner that was doing just fine with the nail salon he and his wife own but then something happened they hadn’t planned upon, the Tubbs Fire. Tan and his wife had just taken a second mortgage out on their three-bedroom home to upgrade their shop to better serve his neighbors, many of which had children that attended school and even played outside in the street in their culdesac’d street in the clean, comfy even friendly...Coffee Park neighborhood. Tan didn’t lose his home as did so so many but at this point, he tells me... he’d be much better off if he had. The three or four customers they have daily barely cover the shop rent let alone support his family...and that pesky second mortgage which as do his children...let him know in no uncertain terms that they will not be ignored. How many a small business owner has suffered the same fate? Some as it’s told have lost the businesses they took over from their parents planning fully perhaps that their children would wish to do the same. Children being children oft have different plans than following in their parent’s mop bucket tracks such be the dates of such SoCo icons like Gary Chu’s or that fabulous G&G Market so it’s not just fires that can devastate the plans of hard-working parents, hard-working immigrant parents the kind that gave their labors, that gave their very lives most proudly and in times of real wars not us just bullying much smaller countries as we are known to be doing today and sadly our young who lose their lives behind these intolerably one-sided battles are given the name of hero, heroes we knew well from the Great War and the even greater war we fought to stop a madman that soon followed to stop a racist hate monger who just as one is doing now...blamed 100% of his country’s problems on less than 3% of its population, a visibly different appearing group of citizenry...much like as is being done, tolerated and even happily supported by equally easily led fools. Perhaps it is in the hearts of our newly declared enemies does to again for themselves and their underdeveloped countries stop the Madman that now occupies that big house at 2100 Pennsylvania Avenue for surely his madness must be countered both here and abroad. Immigrants founded this country, immigrant’s built this country and it’s said that the taxation upon those hardworking families will be the base from which Social Security dividends will be so derived. May God bless all dreamers titled so or no, known or unknown, visibly different thus easier to blame for the results of poorly controlled BIG BUSINESS and it’s profits over people cornerstones of tradition. Marcos Zapatero
Wheelstops…
AGAIN Lying here with my busted knee cap. Happened Thursday night. Didn’t even see it coming. Self employed hairstylist, just getting back on my feet after cancer treatment now this. Parking curb in the middle of nowhere! Diane Howard
Say Yes
The moment I slipped my arms into the poem of falling leaves shrugged my shoulders just so the threads of mystery in the fabric pulled my body straight
This poem, an old jacket passed down to my waiting hands its elbows and cuffs shedding old language of wonder and hope was a perfect fit
This poem of crying violins rusting sunsets, broken hearts and lavender mornings wrapped around my aching heart and said yes, no matter what, yes
The music will sound, your friend will come, the bread will rise, and the birds will sing