Samantha Donisi
Asst. Editor

I recently had the pleasure of attending a World War II History Roundtable discussion that was held at NIACC.

I went into the presentation expecting to hear an interesting overview of what WWII was like for those who actually lived it.

What I got was an amazing narration of a terrible time in United States history, told by eight courageous men who felt it important enough to share their stories.

The roundtable was composed of eight WWII veterans, each with different experiences to share.

What was most unique about this roundtable was the fact that the setting, and even the speakers, looked so normal and even mundane.

Yet the stories they told, calm as they appeared when telling them, were decidedly chilling.

The man who had been a German prisoner of war particularly moved me. He told about living for weeks on raw potatoes buried in manure, and about being interrogated by German officers.

His story, indeed all the stories told by the veterans, were fascinating in that grisly way that human beings love.

We love to hear about the sensational stuff, the things that shock or scare us.

That was probably the draw for most in the audience; we wanted to hear the stories they had.

As I sat there listening, I was amazed to find that the audience was utterly silent. Most anytime one goes to a performance or a speaker, there is always a bit of background noise. There is always someone whispering, or people rustling in their seats.

There was none of that during the presentation. The audience sat there completely absorbed by what the speakers were talking about. I didn't even hear a cell phone go off.

I was sitting in my seat, with my chin resting in my palm, captivated by the men in front of me. I had to laugh as I glanced about and saw that the majority of the audience was sitting in the exact same manner.

It wasn't that the men were particularly good orators. In fact, most of them were old enough that they didn't speak very loud, and some of them had a tendency to speak to the moderator, rather than to the audience.

But the stories they told, and the memories they called forth were enchanting.

I had reservations about going to the roundtable because I would be missing class. Then it was pointed out to me that the chance of hearing these veterans speak is diminished with each passing year. So I went, if only for the interesting stories I thought I would hear, and for the chance to say I had heard first-hand accounts of the war.

What I took away from that presentation is much more significant.

WWII veterans, any veterans in fact, have a chance to tell their stories in hopes that old mistakes won't be made again. It is also a chance for us to honor those brave men who did fight and die for our country and for freedom.

These men lived through a time in our country that I hope my generation doesn't have to experience.

Without getting up too high on my soapbox, I just have to say that my sense of patriotism was greatly renewed by listening to these men speak.

They performed the ultimate service for our country, and they are still doing their duty by educating the younger generations about how terrible war really is, and how it could happen to us at anytime.

I commend the people who put this presentation together; these were men who deserved to be heard.

Dan Sherman
Feature Editor

Thanksgiving has come and gone, giving us a chance to look back and reflect on everything we are thankful for.

Most of us thank the usual suspects: good health, family, friends, etc...

I, myself, am thankful for these, but I'm also thankful for the little things, such as sitting in my room and watching television after homework, or listening to some music on my iTunes.

I can even be thankful for something as simple as going back to my dorm room and finding some fig newtons waiting for me. That's right, fig newtons. A simple snack, but delicious, nonetheless.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm just thankful for life in general.

But there are those who are not so privileged to say this.

Who are they? Turkeys. Yes, turkeys.

Everyone knows that turkeys fear and loathe the time when Thanksgiving rolls around, and rightfully so.

These fine-feathered pieces of poultry have been a Thanksgiving mainstay for hundreds of years, and they are none too happy about it.

To get an insight into how these birds feel, I decided it best to conduct an interview with Mr. Waddles, a turkey awaiting execution at a local farm.

When asked how he felt about being on death row so he could be stuffed and placed on the table of a hungry holiday lover, Mr. Waddles responded with two simple words: "Gobble, gobble."

I think it's safe to say Mr. Waddles speaks on behalf of all turkeys that have faced, or will soon face, the reality that people love a good turkey when it comes to Thanksgiving.

As grim an outlook as turkeys have, they often have the last laugh when dealing with us humans who consume them.

After all, the tryptophan in a turkey is powerful enough to reduce even the biggest man into a sleeping baby.

Lucky for us, the turkeys have yet to evolve to the point where the sleeping agent is potent enough to put someone into that eternal slumber.

So, this Thanksgiving I hope we all learned a few things from turkeys, and realize we have so much to be thankful for.

Don't take anything for granted, even the smallest of things, such as a good fig newton every now and then, or a chat with some local poultry.

As for the turkeys, do not pity them, after all, they are delicious. Instead, do what I do: eat a lot of turkey, take a nap, and forget that you ever read about a crazy journalist who claims he interviewed a turkey named Mr. Waddles.

Enjoy the holidays, and start planning early for that delectable Christmas ham.

Brandon Watson
News Editor

As our nation continues to stumble across conflicts, the recent panic for offsetting the Avian Bird Flu only makes matters worse.

After thousands of birds were wiped out from the lethal influenza in the continents of Asia, Europe and South America, medical pundits prophesized a mutation from birds to humans.

Although the time frame for the potential mutation remains unclear, President Bush's recent request for $7.1 billion from Congress to revitalize and stockpile America's flu vaccines could prove futile, as some experts deem that Tamiflu, the alleged under miner of the Avian flu, is not a panacea, but merely staggers the rapid spurt among humans, in addition to siphoning the potency.

That credence holds much validity since reading about a 12-year-old girl in the Philippines, who after being infected with the Avian Bird flu, took a dosage of Tamiflu, only to remain in the hospital for 12 weeks with no evidence that the Tamiflu was effective. The girl went on to live, but it alerted my curiosity to the possibility that Tamiflu might not be the savior that many think it is.

With his laggard response to previous dilemmas, it's safe to say Bush wants to get a leg up on the flu vaccine crisis, considering that if coming to life it could be the hallmark pandemic of the 21st century, with a predicted 50% mortality rate. (Ouch!)

Yes, the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918 killed between 20 to 40 million people, but remember: in 1918, the medicinal technology didn't come close to what Americans have today.

Also, take note that due to the frequent travel of soldiers from the Great War in Europe coming back and forth to America, the virus spread rampant, whereas today an entire city would be isolated if found to possess an individual with the bird flu.

Given the strong urgency that America has for combating the virus if it materialized, I cannot see oodles of civilians perished to a cause that our country fears so much.

The media is making the Bird Flu more of a panic than many of us Americans are. Hardly, one can flick to a national television channel and not see foreigners with their hand viced around the necks of chickens, who fell victim to the virus. Remember they are chickens, the same chickens that don't have access to millions of doctors.

Indeed, the Avian Bird Flu should increase the pace of your heart rate, only if you are infected.

Benjamin J. Buck
Editor

As you thumb through this issue of Logos, and come across the page opposite this one, you will notice the editorial suggesting to the administration, a complete ban of smoking on campus.

You will notice, too, that the disclaimer at the bottom states, "Unsigned editorials represent the majority opinion of the editorial board." I am here to represent the minority aspect of this argument, as I was the one and only vote against this editorial.

One statistic the board points out is 361 communities have put outdoor smoking bans in place. Where is the rest of the data? I think it would be pretty safe to say that there are more than 361 communities in the United States.

Another statistic states that 2% of lung cancer related deaths are caused by passive smoking. Where is the other 98% of lung cancer related deaths?

The editorial board fails to realize that many smokers out there are courteous and respectful to others.

They also fail to realize many smokers stand as far away as possible, blowing the smoke so it will not affect anyone but him or herself.

Case-in-point. Being a non- smoker, I don't think that it is my job, or the editorial board's, to tell people they can't smoke on campus.

I also work at a bar where I have discussed the possible outcome of making the business non-smoking and the owner said, "No," because of the business that would be lost.

And if it doesn't stop there, where will it?

Why don't we ban smoking from every place of employment, every public place and even make tobacco an illegal controlled substance?

Why doesn't the state of Iowa lose $88,716,000 in the excise tax collection of tobacco products every fiscal year and because of the loss of revenue, lose even more first-year teachers due to harsh budget cuts?

Why doesn't the U.S. government lose $7,778,569,117 in the excise tax collection of tobacco products every fiscal year and increase that federal deficit by just a couple more billion dollars? It's just money, right?

Wrong.

Smokers help the economy go around and it's not my job, the editorial board or anybody else's to ban smoking outdoors.