THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, September 25, 1996 TAG: 9609250414
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Guy Friddell
LENGTH: 52 lines
I was unfair, a reader notes.
Unfair, in my saying that the Virginia Military Institute held out ``until prodded last week by the Justice Department'' to admit women applicants.
In fact, the Justice Department had nothing to do with last week's decision. VMI announced months ago, as The Virginian-Pilot reported on several occasions, that it would make a decision at the September board meeting.
My apologies to the Corps.
Amid other mail Tuesday, Bob Johnson of Portsmouth writes that he is with me in my observations on the Halloweens of yore that featured tricks but no treats.
In his boyhood in Brooklyn, N.Y., he recalls ``it was empty garbage cans and fence gates hung in mischievous locations. We also hit houses (and ourselves) with stockings filled with flour.
``But my suppression of mischief these days are similar to yours. I try, but I usually get a blank stare in my try at frivolity; and the hand (or bag) remains in their `receiving' position.''
Yes, I know. About 6 o'clock on Halloween, I scramble through stores to buy a ton - no, half a ton - of candy rather than have to meet their reproachful eyes at failing to come through.
One good thing, the procession of little goblins and ghosts seeking handouts is a time of excitement for the joyful Labrador retriever.
From that talented versifier, Nanette Emanuel, comes a poetic preachment about the place of wildlife in Norfolk now that their living places in the wild are fast diminishing.
The raccoons are rampant in Larchmont,
They prowl in the still of the Night;
They join in a protein-and-starch jaunt,
And have themselves `Gourmet's Delight'!
They knock over trash cans and flowers,
In sweet disregard and disgrace;
Their habitats' taken by OURS,
So - what would YOU do in their place?
That brings to mind the nine raccoons that, just at dusk, came out atop the porch of a three-story empty house to take the air before descending to stroll about the neighborhood in search of food.
The house has been razed to make way for a new one on the large lot. Word is that the raccoons were trapped. Certainly they no longer are in evidence.
My feelings at their absence are mixed. On the one hand, I'll miss them perambulating about the community as if they paid taxes; on the other, when their dwelling was destroyed, they most certainly would have taken up residence with me and the Labrador, as one or two families have on other occasions. by CNB