Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: THURSDAY, December 1, 1994                   TAG: 9412240022
SECTION: NEIGHBORS                    PAGE: W22   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: 
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

IT'S TIME WE MADE THE CITY MORE BEAUTIFUL

I'm writing in regard to the area across from the Roanoke Civic Center and Orange Avenue. One day while riding down Orange Avenue, I looked to the right and noticed a small cemetery which I assume is very old.

I couldn't help but comment to myself what a sore sight this was. This cemetery is entirely run down and tombstones have been knocked over and the hillside of the cemetery has been eroded away carrying the tombstones and probably the coffins along with it. I'm just wondering why people would suddenly stop caring about a place where the deceased should rest in peace.

I am 16 years old and am forced to grow up in this world with this environment. If I'm going to live here, I think that everyone along with me should help beautify our city. It also breaks my heart that one day when I die and am put to rest in a cemetery that I could be pushed and shoved by erosion and the surroundings around me won't be taken care of. This is just another reason why people should open their eyes and face facts and help our world become a better place to live and die.

Ami-Marie Ashley

Salem

Dear Neighbors:

In the spring, our family worked hard preparing our garden plot, planting the seeds, and with great satisfaction and delight, watched as seedlings turned to vines, stalks and bushes. The harvest came quickly for radishes, lettuce and such. Later, we feasted on homegrown corn until the deluge of August came and knocked down the stalks.

The pride of our garden, however, was the last thing to be picked. The 55-pound pumpkin that we grew with our own hands. We never fed it, just watched it grow. When it finally pulled away from the vine, it took both my husband and I to roll it up the gentle slope from the garden to our front stoop.

Halloween night. It is gone. Stolen by the same kids who have likely stolen the last five we have had on the front stoop in as many years. I can't express my disappointment, when I began to close up for the night, having tossed candy into nearly 50 bags, pillow cases or Halloween buckets and found our wonderful pumpkin gone.

I suppose I should be thankful that it wasn't left to be smashed in the street. Drivers who make their way down my street should be thankful, too. The thing could have really wrecked a front-end alignment.

But I'm just angry and sad and mourning, actually. Mourning for the days of my childhood when Halloween was a special night that was not to be intruded upon by such a silly theft.

My children are sad and angry, too. But they can't mourn for the good ol' days. Stolen jack-o'-lanterns are all they have known. My angry ranting about stealing and poor morals are what they have heard each Halloween when we look out to find a simple pumpkin gone.

Good night, dear pumpkin, wherever you are ...

I sure do miss that pumpkin.

Carla A. Wakefield

Roanoke