Letters To The Editor
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Dear Editor,

Few things are more objectional to the nasal passages than burning leaves. Offhand, I can think of only two: the worn-out tennis shoes I had to wear to school during the thirties, and a wet dog in the living room.

Chill out, fellas, some folks have life-threatening breathing difficulties -- asthma, a weak heart, emphysema, lung cancer, etc. Surely the disagreeable task of sacking a few leaves once a year can be easily handled by stalwarts such as yourselves. Besides, consideration of others seems an admirable trait -- "love thy neighbor " and all that.

Charles C. Hall, EdD Chandler (area)

Dear Editor:

I was home the weekend the article "Goodbye Mr. I?" was published. Seeing as how Mr. Innerarity was one of my former teachers at BHS I decided to respond.

To be honest I do not remember my first day in drama class, or the first monologue I ever recited. Likewise, I cannot remember how to do simple algebra or say anything but "adios" in Spanish. Still, I couldn't tell you a line from a play to save my life, even though this would become the subject that I would live, breathe and eat throughout high school. Instead, the things I would remember would be the kind of words this man said. The way he pushed for me to think on my own, and the sly way he not only directed me on the stage; but directed me in life as well.

If I had to describe Mr. I using only one word, that word would be "passion." This man has passion for everything he knows, does and loves. His passion for the Arts is what I believe drove him to stay at this school, even though his duties surpass what any ordinary teacher does. He not only teaches junior high, but high school as well and takes them both to competition. The only help he ever received came from anyone willing to lend a hand.

I do not know the school's politics well enough to say much and so will not do so. However, I do know that how much you make is only measured by how much you put in. In Brownsboro's case, not much has been put into the theater department, yet Mr. Innerarity still manages to do miraculous things.

The miraculous things I speak of are not just winning a competition, or receiving awards. No, the miraculous things Mr. I taught his students would flow much deeper than that and would be used much later in life. In the same way my fiance', John Smiley, still remembers the way "pride in yourself, your team, and your town" was driven into his heart by his coaches, Mr. I would instill life-long lessons into my heart that I will continue to use as I grow.

We would practice and practice for UIL competition. We would give up our weekends and our nights. We would rehearse and memorize for that one big day, and for what? To walk away as losers? To know that we poured our hearts and souls out on that stage but someone did that better? No! No matter if we won or if we lost ... I knew with all my heart that nothing could have been done better, and because of that I was proud.

I went to college in 2004 and I am just a few classes shy from graduating. I then enroll in Graduate school for Occupational Therapy in May 2009. If you would have told me four years ago that I would be taking anatomy, chemistry, statistics, and many more classes I swore I would never need ... I wouldn't have believed you. But, if you would have told me that I couldn't do it ... that I would fail ... I wouldn't have believed you either. Why? Because I was taught how to believe in myself. I was taught to have so much passion in whatever it was that I was doing so that failure wasn't an option.

Mr. Innerarity possesses the one thing many teachers lack or have forgotten. He has love for his students. Because of this, he is determined to teach them more than just lines in a play, emotions in a scene, or comic timing. He vows as a teacher, to teach them how to succeed in life beyond high school.

If I were a parent, this would be what I looked for in a teacher for my child. To me, this is what makes a teacher valuable. Anyone can prepare you for a TAKS test or a winning game. It takes a very caring and passionate person to go the extra mile and prepare your children for what the future holds ahead. A teacher teaches a child to win a specific race; whether that be math, reading or football. A passionate teacher teaches a child how to cross the finish line ... so that they can compete to win in more than one of life's many races.

Sincerely, Kayla Brooking Nacogdoches, Texas

The Kentucky Derby

A line from My Old Kentucky Home comes to mind, "Weep no more my lady!"

What a metaphor for life, in the midst of joy, celebration and happiness the dark wings of death cast an untimely shadow of grief over an undeserved death.

Big Brown broke from the gate in the 20 spot and fought his way on the diagonal across the track while racing forward around the track to get in the fifth or sixth position. That was a mighty athletic accomplishment, and a great display of heart, getting him into position to strike for the lead.

Soon he was in the three slot, then early in the back stretch his jockey dropped him back into the sixth slot. As they hit the midway point his jockey let him run, and the race was on.

As they came around the turn and hit the stretch, he passed through the leaders and pulled away to win by nearly five lengths. What a magnificant horse. What a great race.

Coming in number two, was a tough, valiant, little filly running with the colts and beating all of them but Big Brown. Sadly she went down in the gallop-out with two broken front legs -- she was euthanized on the track.

Having followed Barbaro's brave battle for life, and having been at Golden Gate Fields, near San Francisco, a few years ago and seeing a horse go down in the far stretch, I've come to wonder and question, is thoroughbred horse-racing a cruelty? Do we breed these incredible animals to the point that such "accidents" are unavoidable? Does our desire for horses that can shave a splitsecond or two off a track speed here and there create the breeding of animals prone to such injuries?

I've begun leaning to the yes side, and I've got to tell you that we stopped going to the track or watching horse races after we saw the horse go down and have to be killed at Golden Gate. Yesterday, I made an exception and now wished I hadn't. The sadness offsets the joy.

Here in Texas, for years and years we raced "quarter horses," not your Kentucky Thoroughbreds, mind you. These were tough, smaller, heavier-boned horses that don't "break down" from the rigors of a race. They run with heart and "bang" away like NFLlinemen; but they don't break down, their hearts don't explode with aneurisms, and they are every bit as fun to watch race ... just not as fast and don't run quite as far.

I'm not suggesting that owners, breeders, or trainers wantonly risk a multi-million dollar investment or that their grief is not sincere -- but, I am asking if such injuries and deaths have become an "acceptable" risk of breeding for speed?

If so, Acceptable to whom? Sincerely, Shane Fox Chandler, Texas