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Its Not A Playground
Last week, while out on errands I drove by the Laurel Hill Apartments (of which I am an owner). Several young boys were skateboarding in front of the entrance and had a board set up on the stairs to use as a ramp. I called out to them to take their skateboards and the ramp and leave the property. They got very nasty verbally, telling me I didnt live there so I should leave them alone, they could do what the wanted to, etc. I told them I owned the property and told them again to leave. There was more back talk and one young man flung his skateboard across the lawn saying, "Well you dont own the grass." They then sauntered off and I drove away. I returned a short while later to check on the building again and the boys had returned, their ramp back on the stairs and were skateboarding with abandon. I called out once more for them to take their ramp and boards and go home. They continued to be rude and disrespectful, but finally left.
Boys, you need to realize a few things. Private property is just that private. The entrance to an apartment building is neither a playground nor a skateboarding park. Our building is home to many senior citizens who have a right to safe, unintimidated passage, to and from their home and to the peace and quiet they deserve. Your manners are appalling, and your lack of respect for authority is dismaying. While we cant do much about those things, we can and will deal with any future trespassing or other disturbances by calling the police and prosecuting to the fullest extent the law allows. (Please bear that in mind, the next time you decide youre entitled to do whatever you want to, wherever you want to do it.)
Laurel Hill Apartment Owners
My Memorial Day
I would like to talk about Memorial Day. I think that it is nice to remember the men and women who saved our country, but I would like to describe what Memorial Day means for me.
I am talking about my "Parents." Yes, you read it right, my parents. I never knew who my real parents were, never saw them, have no pictures of them, just have their last name in birth and on my birth certificate. I do know where my real sister is. We keep in contact with each other every day; well not every day, but you know what I mean.
My sister and I were raised in a home called Saint Marys Home For Children, which was supervised by the Catholic Nuns of Saint Marys Church, until I was eight years old. This home was located where Seton Catholic Central High School is located now, Seminary Ave., Binghamton.
When I was eight years old, my sister and I lived with a family on the South Side of Binghamton; they had two girls and a son of their own to raise and take care of.
Their names are Mr. Howard and Mrs. Cecile Fleming, our Foster Parents. They have both passed away, but the memories about them and what they did for us have not.
I do have pictures of "Mom and Dad." They had a cottage at Pages Lake, which we would go to when Dad was not busy on the weekends, and we would stay out there during the summer time, when school was out. Dads mother has passed away, as well as aunt Ella, uncle Gerald, aunt Helen, aunt Bessie and uncle Ralph Churchill, grandma Smith and aunt Liz.
These are the kind of people that I would like to never forget. This is my kind of "Memorial Day" that I would like to share with the relatives of the Fleming family.
I want to say THANK YOU" to each and every one of you that took my sister and I into your homes, to give us a good life and a respectable home that we could be "PROUD" to have lived in.
During our years of being raised in the Flemings house, they took care of 28 foster children!
How can we ever forget people like you?
God Bless all of you, each and every one.
Alexander M. Welsch
TO THE EDITOR POLICY
Thank you, Susquehanna County Transcript
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