4 Wednesday, June 17, 1987 Kansan Summer Weekly Opinions and Editorials THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN SUMMER WEEKLY EDITION No Oread downzoning Some Oread neighborhood residents and members of the Oread Neighborhood Association have asked the city to downzone six blocks from "residential dormitory" to "multi-family residential." The residents of the 900 and 1000 blocks of Indiana, Louisiana, Ohio and Tennessee streets have said that through downzoning, they hope to preserve the neighborhood by saving old homes in good condition. This may be a noble venture, but the city should refuse the request. Although limiting construction in the neighborhood in order to prevent overcrowding might preferable, the issue runs deeper than that. Many property owners in the disputed six-block area purchased their land with the understanding that they would be able to realize its full value, possibly through the construction of apartments. "Residential dormitory," or RD zoning allows construction as dense as an apartment building with six units on a typical lot in the neighborhood. Downzoning to "multi-family residential," or RM-1 zoning, allows construction only as dense as a duplex on a typical lot. Last week the U.S. Supreme Court ruled, in a California case, that property owners must be compensated when new zoning restrictions prevent all uses of their land. Oread property owners might use the Supreme Court ruling to challenge rezoning, but even if they are unsuccessful in that venture, Lawrence should respect property owners' rights under the Fifth Amendment and should not downzone the neighborhoods. Instead, the residents of the six blocks should seek other measures to preserve the beauty and the neighborhood atmosphere of the blocks in question. At last week's city commission meeting, residents successfully defeated a proposed five-unit apartment building at 1132 Ohio St., a site near the requested area for downzoning. Stiffer DUI sentences Largely through the efforts of members of the Oread Neighborhood Association and the Lawrence Preservation Alliance, the apartment site plan, which had been approved by the city staff, was rejected by the city commission. Neighborhood residents and city commission members opposed the proposed street-front parking lot that would be necessary if the apartment building were to be built. The residents of the Oread neighborhood should continue to devote their time to preserving the beauty of their streets. But they should not continue to seek to downzone property and deprive some owners of their right to develop the land as the law permits. It happens every day; people get behind the wheel of a car and drive away. But sometimes the driver is drunk. Every year an estimated 23,000 people are killed by drunk drivers, and 700,000 more people are injured. The roadways are becoming graveyards for drunk drivers and their victims. Kansas is known to have some of the country's toughest laws against driving under the influence, but these laws are Driving is not a right; it is a privilege. If this privilege is abused, it should be taken away until the offender proves he is responsible enough to drive. In 1986 in Kansas, 4,759 alcohol-related accidents occurred. In these accidents, 224 people were killed, and 4,234 people were injured. In Kansas, 11,000 to 12,000 arrests are documented each year for driving under the influence of alcohol or drugs. These statistics are sobering enough to justify stiffer penalties than those in the Kansas law books today. No one should blame the alcohol and automobile industries. These industries rightly assume that those people 21 or older should be responsible enough not to abuse their privileges of driving and of drinking. Accidents are the results of consumer abuse of the product. not stiff enough. A first-time offender can be sentenced to up to six months in prison and fined up to $500. A second-time offender faces from 90 days to one year in jail and a fine of as much as $1,000. The third-time offender faces up to one year in jail and can be fined no more than $2,500. This is Russian roulette; the law is giving the offender three chances to kill himself or kill someone else. Although these sentences may sound tough, many first-time offenders obtain diversions which allow them to complete their sentences by attending rehabilitation programs. They therefore serve no time in jail. A third-time offender may spend as few as 90 days in jail. Rehabilitation programs can help, but they are not enough. Unacceptable behavior should be punished by more than just a few classes. A first-time offender should spend a minimum of seven days in jail and should have his license suspended for one year. A second-time offender should spend a minimum of 90 days in jail and should have his license suspended for an additional year. Third-time offenders whose three convictions are within two years are beyond short-term help. A year in prison with no probation is the only answer. News staff John Benner...Editor Dawn O'Malley...Managing editor Jane Zachman...News editor Pam Miller...Campus editor Tim Hamilton...Sports editor Darry Chang...Photo editor Connie Sheridan...Graphics editor Tom Eblen...General manager, news adviser Business staff Lisa Weems...Business manager Lisa Osment...Retail sales manager Sally Depow...Campus sales manager Dan Pennington...Classified manager Jay Krieger...Production manager Chuck Roulbut...National sales manager Jeanne Hines...Sales and marketing adviser Letters should be typed, double-spaced and less than 200 words and must include the writer's signature, name, address and telephone number. If the writer is affiliated with the University of Kansas, please include class and hometown, or faculty or staff position. Guest shots should be typed, double-spaced and less than 700 words. The writer will be photographed. The Kansan reserves the right to reject or edit letters and guest shots. 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Father's Day might be a time to forget "P.S. Your grandfather died on your father's birthday." That was the postscript to a note that was neatly tucked, along with a check, inside a birthday card that my parents sent me last week. I discovered when sending me the usual funny card and removing the check. I stood in the kitchen thinking about how I had written off my grandfather so many years ago, and feeling a little sad that my mother had summed up his death in a short sentence at the end of a note that I could have accidentally thrown away unread My father was born on May 30 during the Depression. I was born two weeks after his 26th birthday, and one week before Father's Day. When I was young, this three-week period each year was a time when he and I alternated celebrating and being celebrated. I remember I was puzzled when I asked him the date of his father's birthday. He said he couldn't remember. When I was 4 years old, we loaded the family's luggage into the Volkswagen van and took the 12-hour drive from Washington, D.C. to Ypsilanti, Michigan to see my grandparents during the Thanksgiving holiday. I don't remember the trip very well, but I do remember meeting my grandparents. I had seen them when I was an infant, but this was the first time I could remember them. My father and my grandfather didn't talk to each other very much. My mother said that was just the way they were. My grandfather told me to call him "grandpa" and said he'd like to take me fishing on Lake Jordan in the summer. I talked about nothing else during the rest of the visit. The next summer, I got the chance to go to Ypsilantia for a week. I listened to the Tigers' baseball games on the radio with grandpa each day until he fell asleep on the couch in the middle of the afternoon. Grandma fed me and told me not to wake him. I couldn't imagine any kid being more contented than I was. Finally, on Friday, grandpa said he wanted to go fishing the next morning. I went to bed early because grandpa said we'd have to get up at five o'clock. When he awakened me the next morning, I was surprised to find that grandma was up, too. The three of us ate quickly and all during breakfast, I wondered if grandma was going to come with us. I felt a little better when she explained that she would be driving us to the lake because grandpa had hurt his leg in a car accident a few years earlier. She said she had no intention of going out on the boat with us. I remember I felt a little guilty, but I also felt a little relieved. He and I spent several hours out on the boat and caught a dozen fish. When we rowed back to the dock and tied up the boat, grandma was waiting to take us home. Four years later, when my family moved back to the United States after living in Europe, we again made the Thanksgiving trip to Ypsilanti from Washington. I had seen my grandparents only once during the four-year period, and they looked the same to me. Grandpa was watching Michigan play football on television when we came in the door. We got settled in time for me to join him for the second half. Sometimes in the third quarter, a Michigan player, whose name I have long since forgotten, intercepted a pass and ran 70 yards for a touchdown. Grandpa rose to his feet and cheered loudly enough to bring one of my aunts running from the kitchen. After she left, grandpa leaned over to me and said earnestly, "Boy, those niggers sure can run!" That day I realized that I didn't know my grandfather at all, but instead had formed a picture of him based on all the good things grandfathers were supposed to be. That day I I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. stopped dreaming and started asking questions. Two years later, we went back to Ypsiilan for Thanksgiving. Between the two visits, I had asked a few questions and had looked at a few old pictures and letters. I had discovered that grandma had been supporting the family since my father had been a very small child. Later, my father had worked hard to help support his three sisters. Along the way, he had lost his love for his alcoholic Along the way, he had lost his love for his alcoholic father. When we arrived at my grandparents' home, the one my grandfather had not worked a day to help provide, I went straight to his room, eager to grind my nose in the truth. There, almost as if he had wished me to discover it, I found proof in the form of three empty vodka flasks in the trash can. It was 6 p.m., and grandpa was still drinking. I was too naive to know that alcoholism is was a sure sign of nothing else, that my grandfather had done it. A few years later my grandmother died. I heard that my grandfather was getting worse. I was told that his cherished dog had died, and later, through the painfully slow family grapevine, was let in on the secret that he had run over the dog himself. The dog had been sleeping on the lawn, several feet from the driveway. Every two years or so, I would hear something about grandpa. He spent time in a hospital, and later suffered from a complete and permanent loss of memory. I stopped asking my father how grandpa was doing. I could see that he was trying to forget his disappointment, the disappointment I had experienced in so much smaller proportions. Finally, grandpa died three weeks ago on my father's birthday. I say "finally" only because I have considered him dead for a long time. My father would love to see him last thing he would ever have to do for his father. I stood in the kitchen, holding the note from my mother, and wished that grandpa had been able to hold on for a few more days so that my father wouldn't have had to celebrate his own birthday beside the grave of a man who had confounded him for more than 50 years. I knew that this ending, though it was not a happy one, was the proper one. Coffee and Religion at Bobby Joe's Cafe This Sunday, on Fathers' Day, I am going to be sure that I tell my father that I love him. Where ya been, stranger?'' said Bobby Joe, owner and sole proprietor of Bobby Joe's Cafe and Radiator Shoppe. "Why, Mister Bobby Joe," said the slim, stooped figure slouching up to the counter. "I need me some more of your coffee to get through the rest of the mornin'. Would you put it on the tab? Breakfast done cleaned me out." "Sure thing, Slick. I know how them cash-flow problems are. I made this fresh batch without any radiator fluid, so it might not have all the kick you wanted." The coffee simmered in the cup. It looked a little green to Slick. He sat there sipping and reading the beer sign. Then he began to hum, louder with each sip, until he reached the part of the song where he just had to sing the words out loud: Can you tell me, would Jesus wear a Rolex on His television show? ... If He came back tomorrow, there's some- thing I'd like to know. Would Jesus be political if He came back to Earth? Bobby Joe looked up from the country-fried steak he had on the grill and cocked an ear. Slim took another sip and continued; Have His second home in Palm Springs and try to hide his worth? Take money from those poor folks when He comes back again? And admit He's talked to all those preachers who say they've talked to Him? PAUL GREENBERG Columnist "Don't rightly know if we allow singin' in here," said Bobby Joe, "specially songs that poke fun at religion. Some things still deserve a little respect, 'specially from credit customers.' "Why, Bobby Joe, ain't nothing in that song disrespectful. I'm all for religion — think everybody ought to have some. That song's about television preachers, and that's about as far from religion as you can get." "Well you cut that out, Slim, or I'm gonna have to whup some knots on your head faster'n you can rub 'em." "Aw, Bobby Joe. I didn't mean nothin'. 'That song isn't about real preachers. I'm talkin' about television religion, Bobby Joe, about haircuts that look like they came straight from the beauty bootie, and limos and Lear tears. By the way, you still sendin' Jim and Tammey Fake a little somechin' every month? Why, they're down to their last two or three mansions. What you gonna do about 'em now?" 'Why, I'm gonna pray for 'em, Slick, like I would for any other sinner What're you doin' for 'em, or anybody else, 'cept肝gan, and singin' mean little songs? You think I gonna quit 'em now when they need me the most?" The country-fried steak was slowly turning into a glowing briquette. Bobby Joe came around the table. "You see. Slick, I still feel the same way about what they said even if I think a little less of ol' Jim these days. . . ." "I reckon you would think less of him after all this business about that little of' church secretary in New York and payin' to keep her quiet and . . " "Naw, I don't hold that agin' him. Any man can get in a fix that look. Like at David slipsh*n' around with that Bathsheeba girl. Naw, what got to me was the big bucks. Down deep I just know you can't drive a Mercedes through the pearly gates. But that don't mean I'm ready to kick 'em when they're way down. That's why I'd like you to save them songs of yours for somebody who ain't got no better sense than to laugh at his fellow sinner, even if what he done ain't funny." "I said I was prayin' for 'em, Slick I reckon that's about as much as I can afford just now. I'm a Christian, but I try not to be a damfool." "I preciate you, Bobby Joe, but I think the coffee could use less antifreeze, what with summer comin' on and all. I ain't complainin', you understand, not at these prices." "Hurry back, Slick. Long's I got a biscuit, you got half. But no more." Letters to the editor More than just books I guess Benner's logic is that basketball isn't important to him and academics are, so it should be that way for everyone. Another source of Benner's frustration might be that he compares his level of success in his field to Danny Manning's level of success in his. That would shake up just about anyone. Take heart, Mr. Benner. I don't understand Benner's problems with Manning's reasons for staying at KU. Why do journalists, or any other students for that manner, take internships or summer jobs? To make them more marketable and valuable when they get out of school. Why is it different for Manning? That's what he's trying to do also Benner's speculation on why Manning took a look at next year's recruits almost knocked me off my chair. I somehow doubt Manning was concerned with whether the recruits would be talented enough to feed him the ball. Anyone who thinks Manning is selfish, anything less than a consumate team player, must be thinking of some other Danny Manning. Granted, it is a shame that KU's academic programs don't get the notoriety that they probably should. However, I firmly believe KU's fine graduates and faculty do more to reflect positively on the quality of KU's academic programs than any editorial or series of articles. Some of us find more to college but burying our noses in books and staring at computer terminals. Benner tells us, "Don't look at the games." Believe me. Manning, Larry Brown, the rest of the team and their thousands of fans will somehow survive without him. Jim Williamson 2522 S.W. Fairwain Road Tupela 1986 KU graduate Outstanding Manning It is unclear whether John Benner's editorial on Danny Manning was a clever attempt to measure summer readership by the degree of outrage generated or was simply an unfortunate example of his skill in training. In other case, it was both disappointing and irresponsible. Each person devotes his life to a pursuit of goals and achievements. In that, Manning is no different from Benner, I trust. There are troublesome obstacles along the way, whatever your field. Most aborrent are the cheap shots taken against talent of any kind. Please learn quickly that journalists have the power to hurt deeply, to turn away good people or to squelch a positive atmosphere. That power is a trust as well. Be more careful with it, whether the issue is sports or academics. Spoof or serious, Benner is way off base with his diatribe on Manning. Manning need not apologize for being an outstanding athlete, nor for bringing so much positive attention to KU and Lawrence, nor for wanting to be on the Olympic Team, nor for dedication to his and his parents' desire for his college education, nor for displaying loyalty to a fine coach, who, thankfully, also is staying here. Donald A. Johnston 1540 Alvamar Drive 1966 KU law school graduate