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Letters to the Editor: January 26, 2011

Close call On January 17, my granddaughter had a very close call [“Time to slow down,” September 8, 2010]. She takes the bus from Grief Point Elementary School and gets off beside the Airport Market.

Close call

On January 17, my granddaughter had a very close call [“Time to slow down,” September 8, 2010].

She takes the bus from Grief Point Elementary School and gets off beside the Airport Market. The bus stopped, my five-year-old granddaughter got off and went running to her mommy. A driver decided she did not have to stop at the bus with the lights flashing and the stop sign up. Instead she came very close to hitting my little granddaughter.

Have the rules changed? When I got my driver’s licence I had it put through my brain that when a school bus stopped you had to stop. This is not the first time someone has gone through this particular bus stop. What do we have to do? Do we have to go to all the bus stops and have crossing guards?

Remember, when the bus is stopped, little children are crossing. Remember to stop.

Bev Mansell

Nootka Street


Bus stop means stop

Three times in the last five years my granddaughters have had very close calls at their bus stop at the Airport Market [“Time to slow down,” September 8, 2010]. People are either not seeing the humungous yellow school bus with the red flashing lights, or they just don’t care that they are putting little lives in danger. My daughter says this happens on a regular basis at this stop.

Please people, stop. Stop in both directions; it’s the law.

Debra Byram

Viking, Alberta


Angels of Olive Devaud

From the outside it looks like an ordinary building, brown/beige with no distinguishing features, not even a sign to tell passersby what is inside. You might even drive past it without noticing it on your way down Kemano Street to Joyce Avenue to the stores or to the ferry terminal and beyond. If you do happen to notice it, you might stop and have a closer look. You might even step inside: the doors open automatically. It seems that everyone is welcome.

Once inside you will most certainly be greeted by many smiling faces, both staff and residents. They are all busy going somewhere, participating in one of the many activities in the lounge, helping someone, answering questions, directing confused people to the right place. You can wander and mingle and enjoy the wonderful people who live there. They are all someone’s mother, grandfather, wife, friend, uncle, father, and so on. They all have interesting lives and wonderful stories to tell. And all of them are no longer able to stay in their own homes. Lucky for them, they have discovered the Olive Devaud Residence [“Authority moves on replacement plan,” March 31, 2010].

Here they are pampered, cared for, respected and loved by an amazing group of people whom I call Angels. They are dedicated, wise, loving, and seemingly tireless employees who call themselves caregivers, nurses’ aides, custodians, practical nurses, office staff, volunteers, registered nurses and kitchen staff. They don’t seem to notice how many kilometres they walk on every shift, how many times they answer the same questions, or that they have missed their coffee break because someone needed attention. They are shining stars. They are a treasure and a pleasure to meet.

We are lucky to have this facility in Powell River and my mother was fortunate to enjoy the last four years of her life there. I will always remember the wonderful care that she received and mostly I will remember the smiles.

Lorraine Bradley

Devaud Place