Opinion
Kansan
4A
Published daily since 1912
Jodie Chester, Editor Marc Harrell, Business manager Gerry Doyle, Managing editor Jamie Holman, Retail sales manager Ryan Koerner, Managing editor Dan Simon, Sales and marketing adviser Tom Eblen, General manager, news adviser Justin Knupp, Technology coordinator
Wednesday. October 7,1998
Editorial
City of Lawrence and University need to cooperate on bus system
The University of Kansas and the city of Lawrence should work together to promptly solve the city's lack of a mass transit system.
Since 1985, city commissioners have known that Lawrence is eligible for federal grants from the Urban Mass Transportation Administration to create a citywide busing program. The same year, a plan to purchase four new buses for KU on Wheels fell apart in a dispute between the city and the Lawrence Bus Company, which provides the buses for KU on Wheels.
The Urban Mass Transportation Administration grant had been approved, but the disagreement about specifics of the bus routes brought this potential improvement to a screeching halt.
In January 1997, commissioners once again failed to solve this pressing problem. They voted not to hold even a public referendum for a fixed-route transportation system. Rather, they decided to divert more funds to Douglas County Area Transit services, which operates on a demand and response basis, much like a taxi.
Both the University and the city
Citywide transportation has potential to benefit all citizens.
are responsible for solving this dilemma. Unfortunately, several roadblocks are hindering progress. Nicole Skalla, KU on Wheels coordinator, said the main problem was complying with various laws.
State law mandates that student fees can be spent only on students. Financing a municipal project could violate this. Additionally, the buses used by KU on Wheels would have to comply with emission standards and the Americans with Disabilities Act to receive federal funds.
If the system does comply, it would be eligible for 80 percent matching funds to acquire new buses and 50 percent matching funds for operations.
Cities similar in size to Lawrence have shown that citywide transit systems incorporating University routes are certainly possible. Such systems are in place at Iowa State University in Ames and at the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign.
Obviously, Lawrence cannot continue to grow without a sufficient municipal transportation system. Reliance upon demand-and-response systems is not the answer because they are less efficient both in cost and ability to transport large numbers of people. A citywide system could greatly decrease traffic on the most congested streets in Lawrence.
Furthermore, Lawrence residents without cars would have significantly easier access to the businesses on Massachusetts Street, Iowa Street and 23rd Street. Even KU students with bus passes are unable to have easy access. Buses run, for the most part, on campus or between campus and apartment complexes.
Student Senate recently took an important step by passing a resolution to support the pursuit of a mass transit system in Lawrence. Hopefully, this will give the momentum to institute a system that will provide some much needed relief to the thousands of Lawrence residents and KU students.
Chris Borniger for the editorial board
Feedback
Columnist is off base in criticizing museum
Carrie Johnson had a bad day on Oct. 5 and decided to trash KU in her column. While she is certainly entitled to her opinion, she should at least get her facts straight.
statement about the Natural History Museum, that the "animals are crumbling apart in dilapidated display cases.」and] you can actually see that a rat has built a nest in the walrus." Not even close.
constructed by Tom Swearingen and his staff.
There is incredible beauty in this museum beyond her imagination. Carrie apparently has never seen any of the wonderful exhibits carefully
She could have written an entire column on the outside of the building instead of trying to find fault where there isn't any.
I am particularly offended by her
Ann Premer ... Editorial
Tim Harrington ... Associate Editorial
Aaron Marvin ... News
Gwen Olson ... News
Aaron Knopf ... Online
Matt Friedrichs ... Sports
Kevin Wilson ... Associate sports
Marc Sheforgen ... Campus
Laura Roddy ... Campus
Lindsey Henry ... Features
Bryan Volk ... Associate features
Roger Nomer ... Photo
Corie Waters ... Photo
Angle Kuhn ... Design, graphics
Melissa Ngo ... Wire
Sara Anderson ... Special sections
Laura Veazey ... news clerk
Kansan staff
Laura Green Project Manager Natural History Museum
News editors
Advertising managers
Stacia Williams ... Assistant retail
Brandi Byram ... Campus
Micah Kafitz ... Regional
Ryan Farmer ... National
Matt York ... Marketing
Stephanie Krause ... Production
Matt Thomas ... Production
Traci Meisenheimer ... Creative
Tenley Lane ... Classified
Sara Cropper ... Zone
Nicole Farrell ... Zone
Jon Schlitt ... Zone
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Brian Allers ... PR/ Intern manager
Broaden your mind: Today's quote
"How few our real wants, and how vast our imaginary ones!" -Lavater
How to submit letters and guest columns
Letters: Should be double-spaced typed and fewer than 200 words. Letters must include the author's signature, name, address and telephone number plus class and home-town if a University student. Faculty or staff must identify their positions.
Guest columns: Should be double-
spaced typed with fewer than 700 words. The writer must be willing to be photographed for the column to run.
All letters and guest columns should be submitted to the Kansan newsroom, 111 Stuaffer-Flint Hall. The Kansan reserves the right to edit, cut to length or reject all submissions. For any questions, call Ann Premer (premer@kansan.com) or Tim Harrington (tharrington@kansan.com) at 864-4810. If you have general questions or comments, email the page staff (opinion@kansan.com) or call 864-4810.
Quisenberry's example was taught on, off field
Perspective
I turned the ignition in my car, and by default, Don Fortune's Sports Line came on the radio. A recorded voice was being played. It sounded familiar but not enough for me to recognize it right.
As the conversation drew on, the content of the speech made it clear to me that it was Dan Quisenberry talking, and I knew then that Dan had lost his battle to brain cancer.
Christopher Sieggen
Guest columnist
For those of you who are not Royals fans or even baseball fans, you might not know who this man was. It doesn't matter. Dan's celebrity was not what made him great but
his life with his family, community and charity.
Sure, the statistics will show that his accomplishments on the field make him one of the greatest relief pitchers ever to have played the game, but the effect he had on the players with whom he played, business associates, family members and his fans is his greatest achievement.
I never met him personally, but the stories I've heard through the years about his warmth, sense of humor and his mighty spirit touched me deeper than a "celebrity" is supposed to. Therefore, the news of his death made me ween openly.
My own memories of his career came flashing back — memories of the 1980 American League Championship that "Quiz" wrapped up with a sinkball pitch to Willie Randolph of the Yankees, which struck him out and ended the series; memories of "Quiz" pitching the final out in Game 7 of the 1985 World Series; and memories of my childhood trying to mimic Dan's trademark underhand delivery.
me to recognize it right away.
But the memories of his humble and giving nature as he turned on the grounds keepers' hoses to cool off the right field bleacher fans on those hot summer afternoon games best puts Quisenberry's life into perspective. He always thought of everyone else rather than himself.
Dan always seemed to be uncomfortable with the accolades thrust upon him once he became the Royals' ace reliever. In the mid-70s, the Royals were unstoppable with the exception of postseason play, where Kansas City fans repeatedly were forced to watch a team lose with one pitch in the bottom of the ninth.
It wasn't until Dan showed up, armed with an unorthodox underhand delivery learned from its first practitioner, Kent Tekulve, that the
Royals finally had the last element they needed to win it all.
Dan single handedly made the Royals a team that could take a lead into the ninth and win. Every significant win from 1979 to 1985 was finished in style by Dan. The numbers say it all: 217 saves from 1979 to 1985, the most in the majors.
Dan also was unique because he would sometimes pitch not just the eighth or ninth inning but the sixth or seventh. Try finding a relief pitcher who does that today.
Dan would say that many cancer victims sometimes ask themselves, "Why me?" His response was, "Why not me?" Dan would rather spare someone else and take on the disease himself.
But mention these facts to "Quiz," and first he would tell a joke and then explain that he owed all his success to "a delivery I found in my flaw." Success in his career and his family were icing on the cake to him. "I'm so blessed; I've got this great family, and I played in a special time in this city for the Kansas City Royals," he said. "Quiz" never forgot it was a game that he was playing. Money and fame were not the motivating factors in his career.
"Quiz" later would write down his feelings about his time in baseball through his published collections of poetry, always emphasizing the word "play."
A cancerous tumor was diagnosed in his brain on Jan. 9, 1998. Although he underwent chemotherapy, the outlook was not good. Did "Quiz" let this get him down? In true relief pitcher style, he fought the disease with a serenity that inspired everyone around him.
If he was to be beat, it would happen because it was God's will, much like if his sinkerball just wasn't working that night. As with his pitching, "Quiz" knew when to put himself in the hands of those around him and let fate take charge. "I think about all the help I needed," he said. "I needed a good wife. I needed a good center fieldler (Willie Wilson) and a great second baseman (Frank White). I needed all these things. I don't think about the things I accomplished because I needed so much help on the field. Where I am now with cancer, I need help too. If I survive, it won't be what I accomplished again. It will be more folks on the field and off the field. We need each other.
That's the lesson."
All people could do themselves some good to read those words repeatedly. In today's world of "me, me, me," a humbleness and compassion for those around us can be hard to find. Sometimes we need just a little push to be more caring and aware of the blessings bestowed upon us.
It may sound like a cliche, in Dan's case, it makes sense. If Dan's example can make things a little bit brighter, sunnier and a whole lot funnier for just one person, I think Dan would think that his whole life had been worth it. That's just the kind of guy he was.
Sieggen is a Leawood junior in English.
H. G. Miller
Comrades come and go but memories never leave
I began to wonder where he was. I knew he was somewhere in Manhattan. Those miles may as well be to the other side of the
opinion@kansan.com
T his is what did it for me.
Driving aimlessly along some empty street at 2 a.m., I passed one of those bank signs that tells the temperature: 66
world, though. Sometime last summer, with addresses changing and phone numbers switching. I lost him.
his is what did it for me.
Who puts on the heater to drive with their windows down on a cold night? My friend did.
Well, then, what is it that comes between friends?
degrees. Suddenly aware of the chill coming through my open car window, I reached to close it. Impulse made me turn on the car's heater, and I was hit by a recollection.
Hmmm?
I'm not alone with this question. I think we've all lost somebody as these college years slip by.
somebody as these college your job is High school acquaintances were the first to go
High school acquaintances are — all those faces with names that were forgotten seconds after their mention. These are the disposable people in your life; standard-issue citizens who you meet at parties — friends of friends with no outstanding character traits aside from being able to remember your name the next time they meet you.
For me, family was the next to go — you know, all of those aunts and uncles and cousins that only showed up at Thanksgiving and Christmas. I still see my mom and dad, my little sister and my cat. The rest have all just fallen away. Grandma gets a letter every once in a while, but that's about it.
All of this, I can handle, though.
Losing my friends — that's the thing I never dreamed would happen. How can bonds that seemed so tight such a short while ago be broken already?
Letters become pointless when you actually contemplate writing the same letter and sending it to five different people. And still I ask, why do these things happen?
I guess this is how it happens as we grow older. We attend different universities, we study different subjects, and we meet different $ ^{*} $
people. Like it or not, we change. Phone calls become awkward and soon enough, there is no common ground.
Can you remember the first time you made a priority judgment about your friends? With homework piling up, work hours steadily increasing, and deadlines constantly looming, choices had to be made.
It's the permanent cuts about which I'm talking. Not only the subconscious decision we make to end correspondence, but also the same decision our friends make about us. Here is where the pain begins. Now, that deep sense of loss begins to sink in.
Yes, this is how it all begins. Somewhere hidden deep in our psyche lies a wicked little list. For every new person of significance in our lives, someone old must go. Any amount of time spent thinking about the many possible futures leaves less and less to spend reminiscing about the past.
"Who's been writing me back?" you might have asked. "And how much do we really talk, anwway?"
I'm not talking about short periods of neglect. Some new girl comes into your life and for a little while nothing else in the world matters. No, that's forgivable. Friends will understand that.
The memories will come for different reasons: a song on the radio, an old trailer on a rental video, or maybe just the right temperature in the wind.
The list will never be concrete. I can't even begin to count the number of evenings my friend and I spent driving aimlessly around with the windows down and the heater on. He was my best friend in high school. But what of it?
Almost four years have passed since high school. During the last year, we talked maybe three times and never sent each other a letter. The priorities of life have gotten in the way. Somehow, the decision was made. Once again, the list has changed.
Miller is a Hutchinson senior in English.