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Your Letters

Post Independent
Glenwood Springs, CO Colorado

After mulling this over the past couple of days, I’d like to respond to Jason Whitcomb’s letter of Dec. 7, “Dear Mr. or Ms. yuppie-liberal-left-winger.”

Mr. Whitcomb’s ideology of jingoistic mindlessness is truly disappointing. The bumper sticker he found so offensive, “Don’t confuse dying for oil with fighting for freedom,” deserves serious thought, especially by people like Mr. Whitcomb. There is a difference, and the war in Iraq never had anything to do with fighting for freedom or fighting terrorism.

If President Bush had not been so bent on attacking Iraq and had looked objectively at the “intelligence,” we never would have invaded Iraq. Instead, we might have maintained our focus on the real war, the one against terrorism and for freedom, in Afghanistan. We might have won it by now. But we were distracted and deceived.

Many have died and more will die, and for what?

Mr. Whitcomb, before you go off on me, I have been to Arlington several times. I rode again past those endless rows of marble headstones just a couple of weeks ago, thinking of those who are there and their sacrifice. I thought also of my uncle, for whom I am named and whom I never met. He died fighting for freedom in the Pacific, coming home with a Silver Star and a coffin draped in a 48-star flag I still hang from the porch every Memorial Day and Fourth of July.

From reading his letters and listening to the stories my mother and grandmother told, I know he would not agree with you. Not at all. He died so your so-called yuppie, liberal left-wingers could protest wars. He died so you could disagree with them.

War is and always should be a last resort, not a preferred option, as it was with Iraq.

No, Mr. Whitcomb, my uncle died so we could protest war freely here, at home, where it should and must be done.

Maybe you should go to Iraq, and then to Arlington. Sit on the grass among the marble for a while and think about it.

Ken Neubecker


There are tires which indicate clearly they have the intention to go flat. They are beginning to lose their plumpness. And then there are flats that sit on the rim with an expression of total uselessness.

One of my tires decided to look that way when I left Rite Aid the other day. After an initial shock, I remembered I had a can of Fix a Flat in my car. A bright young man saw me, an old lady in distress, and turned around and tried to apply my Fix a Flat.

His hands got soiled by whatever spouted out of the bottle, because it did not go into the tire. He then lay on the ground to look for my spare under the flatbed of my pickup.

But neither he nor I could figure out how to get that out from there, so the spare was not an option. Then this chivalrous Samaritan remembered he had a magic multipurpose repair machine in his vehicle, but had never tried the air pump feature of it. Well, it worked and restored my tire to a fake fullness. Full enough to get me on my way to the Pit Stop. Thank you, Daniel Trujillo!

The Pit Stop is a special place; active, professional and helpful. I stated my problem with a broad smile (that is a requirement at Pit Stop), and in no time, my tire was fixed, and I had found a crew of good Samaritans there, too. Thank you, Pit Stop!

Well, the Christmas spirit abounds.

Ruth Kirschbaum

Glenwood Springs

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