Friday, November 28, 2008

Please click here for the Sappington House on the City web site!

I happened to be doing some research on Google (great search engine,) and I found this on our web site. I think this is interesting on a variety of fronts, and I hope it will enlighten you as to where this "fits into Crestwood?"

While I am sorry to say it, I wonder if we can really afford this considering we are looking for ways to cut expenses. The Sappington House seems to be one of the "sacred cows' we have in Crestwood, so I guess this post will be looked at with disdain, but come on, $3.00 to tour the place? If we must have it, at least raise the rates!

Tom Ford

NO. 572

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

The Sappington House and the new resturant managers?

At the meeting last night quite a few things were said reference the Thomas Sappington House, not the least of which was the fact that Crestwood OWNS the place outright, in fact it's listed on the City web site as an "asset."

Now if we own it, and it's an asset, pray tell me just who is on the Board of the Sappington Foundation? There is a $500,000.00 trust fund set up for the place, and no one knows who is on the Board or if they live in Crestwood?

I have heard all sorts of things about the place such as "National Treasure, Old artifacts, and we can never sell it. Now as to the "never sell it" part of the question, why can't we sell it, or at least notify the Board (whomever they are, wherever they are,) that we shall no longer be responsible for the maintainability or up-keep of the property.

I guess we will have to file a FOIA form to find the ordnance,that is on file for the property as well as who the Board consists of.

I also find it very interesting that Ward two Alderman Kelsh advised the BOA that he would like to take over the Restaurant portion of the home, and run it next season. This is interesting because if we have to clear that with the Board someone must know who they are, and thus were being bamboozled again!

If anyone knows who the Board members are it would be the man who runs Crestwood, so how about it "your Honor" who are they, and where are they?

Tom Ford

NO. 571

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

FLASH! Another way to save money in Crestwood, appoint one person for two jobs!

Is it me, or did we go through this once before a few years ago? It seems to me we in fact did, and "His Honor" ran on the premise that he would never, never allow this to happen ever again!

Alas, all that is in the past, as I ask you to welcome Ms. Roseann Shannon to the position of "resident manager" at the Sappington House! Ms. Shannon interviewed for, and accepted the job in October, 2008, she moved into the Resident Managers quarters on October 24, 2008.

The job entails the management of the Sappington House, and grounds and has the following perks attached.

1. Free Rent.

2. Paid utilities.

3. Free long distance calls?

4. $100.00 per month stipend.

Please join me in congratulating Ms. Shannon,very nice job indeed!

But what of the "two job" comments I made earlier? Well if her name sounds familiar, it should as she is the Residential Code enforcement officer for Crestwood at a salary of $40,000.00 per year, plus car and benefits.

I have no idea how she can do both of those jobs at the same time, but as an "illegitimate" member of the great unwashed, I am not supposed to know! How about it, "Your Honor" what the heck is this all about?

Tom Ford

NO. 570

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Click here for the 2009 Crestwood proposed budget.

Many of us have not had the opportunity to see or read the proposed budget as of yet, so here it is in total.

Anyone see a great possibility to "move the Sappington house" without it going anywhere, I do.

What say we approach the Federal Government, or the State of Missouri to allow them to purchase the property for a "National / State park site? Best of both worlds there as it will be advertised, we will garner more visitors to Crestwood, and our out of pocket cost will drop to zero!

Your thoughts and comments on the idea, or the budget as a whole are, as always greatly appreciated

Tom Ford

NO. 569

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

This is a hoot! You have to click here to read the comments from "His Honor!"

From the Suncrest Call today we find that "A small segment of this community" who were against the Prop 1 tax increase are not friends of the City! Really, could it be that we,the rag tag "small" group of citizens only want to see OPEN GOVERNMENT? (Oh, by the way sir, the tax failed by 72%, some small group!)

I had no idea he had been able to do all that he said he has done since he arrived for the second term. To say the least, were it true, I would be impressed beyond belief!

At first he said we didn't need the tax, next he said we did, and finally he said we didn't need it anyway when it failed, and now were it not for an "illegitimate" group it would have! I am hoping the next Crestwood connections will have a "Rosetta stone," so Mr. Anthony, and I can keep up with his line of speech, and thinking.

When you get your Call, please read the editorial by Mr. Mike Anthony, who, like me is having a hard time understanding what he is thinking here!

But I digress, please read the piece by the Call and come to your own conclusion's.

Tom Ford

NO. 568

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

As I sit here pondering the fate of the Crestwood Courts' project, and any project in the short term future,

I am beginning to wonder what this Holiday season will mean for our business, as well as Crestwood as a whole. There can be no doubt that the new owners of the Crestwood Court's project are trying very hard to secure the needed financing to move ahead with the project.

That said, where is it to come from? The normal sources of funding (AIG, unions, major banks) are themselves being "bailed out" by the Government, and it would appear this will not end for some time now!

In my own field, I have seen major customers have to cancel projected projects on the boards, and table others for "future construction" until the business climate improves.

What does all this have to do with Crestwood you ask? Darn good question my friends! Our fair City and our retail community need our help now more than ever! There is much we must do to cut expenses, and now rather than borrow from the surplus for the 2009 budget. This will not be easy, or a good thing, but it will be necessary.

Our retailers, and other business who are the very lifeblood of our tax system must have ALL OF US back them 100%! I am asking all of us to buy from our business first, if you nee a plug, go to Ace Hardware, whatever you need is right here, so why shop elsewhere?

We soon will all be out doing our Christmas shopping, again SHOP IN CRESTWOOD ONLY! The prices are no different than Kirkwood, or Sunset Hills, and you won't be spending vital funds on gasoline for the extra miles.

We all have stories about a Crestwood business going the extra mile for us, now it's our turn. I for one will not be spending a farthing on materials or gifts this season outside of Crestwood, and I urge you to please do the same!

Tom Ford

NO. 567

Thursday, November 06, 2008

I received a comment from Chief Jim Silvernail that I believe is important enough for it's own thread!

In quotation marks please see the Chief's remarks!

" Jim Silvernail said...
Tom
I am sorry about changing the topic, however I feel I do need to add this little comment. I believe you have sons that are police officers and I have a son that is a fire captain. I feel we all need to say a very special prayer for all of these young men and woman that serve our communities for our protection. "

GOD BLESS
Jim Silvernail

10:01 AM, November 06, 2008

In light of the last few days when both police and firemen have been shot to death doing their job's as well as trying to help their fellow man, I don't know what could be more relivent!

We not only must pray for their safety, we must also help them in their duties. On election day I spoke with a Crestwood Fireman who clearly had either the very worst cold I have ever seen, or pneumonia, yet there he was on duty to protect us! If it gets any better than that, I don't know how.


Say a special prayer for them, indeed, help them when they need it, YES, but the one thing we never do enough of is to simply say 'THANK YOU" when we see one, that goes a long way folks, so why not do just that the next time you see a Fireman, or Police officer, please.

Tom Ford

NO. 566

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

I got to the polling place (City Hall) at 9:20 AM to vote today.

And found the line out to the parking lot! That's the only time since I have lived here that I can remember such a turn out, and that's just excellent!

It only took 40 minutes total to wait and vote though as the poll workers were doing a great job of keeping the line moving, and there were plenty of booths set up this time.

I hope and pray that all of you have had, or will have the opportunity to vote today, please do so for the sake of all those who have sacrificed to give us the right!

By the way, if you are disabled, and cannot go into the polls, they will come out to your vehicle at the curb if the person who drove you to the poll's will just go in and tell them you need the assistance ( I witnessed that while I was waiting in line.)

Please tell us about your experience if you will.

Tom Ford

NO. 565

Saturday, November 01, 2008

Please click here for my one, and only election comment!

Whatever your party persuasion, I urge you to vote for the person of your choice. If you have looked at the video I placed on the header, I believe you have some idea how important this election really is. If you haven't, well I still want you to go to the poll's and vote, please!

Tom Ford

NO. 564

The little girl and the apple, a true story of love and faith! Please click here for photo's.

As we seem to be living in turbulent times these days, I thought I would post a true story that will show you that "this too shall pass!"

This is a true story - it will appeal to every romantic.

A Girl with an Apple !!!!!!!

August 1942. Piotrkow , Poland .

The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. All the men, women
and children of Piotrkow's Jewish ghetto had been herded into a square.
Word
had gotten around that we were being moved. My father had only recently
died from typhus, which had run rampant through the crowded ghetto. My
greatest fear was that our family would be separated.

'Whatever you do,' Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to
me,'don't tell
them your age. Say you're sixteen.' I was tall for a boy of 11, so I
could
pull it off. That way I might be deemed valuable as a worker.

An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones. He looked
me up and down, then asked my age. 'Sixteen,'I said. He directed me to
the
left, where my three brothers and other healthy young men already stood.

My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children,sick and
elderly people. I whispered to Isidore, 'Why?' He didn't answer. I
ran to
Mama's side and said I wanted to stay with her. 'No,'she said
sternly. 'Get
away. Don't be a nuisance. Go with your brothers.'

She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood: She was protecting
me. She loved me so much that, just this once, she pretended not to. It was
the last I ever saw of her.

My brothers and I were transported in a cattle car to Germany . We arrived
at the Buchenwald concentration camp one night weeks later and were led into
a crowded barrack. The next day, we were issued uniforms and identification
numbers.'Don't call me Herman anymore.' I said to my brothers.
'Call me
94983.'

I was put to work in the camp's crematorium, loading the dead into a
hand-cranked elevator. I, too, felt dead. Hardened, I had become a number.

Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald's
sub-camps near Berlin . One morning I thought I heard my mother's
voice, 'Son,' she said softly but clearly, I am going to send you an
angel.'
Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream. But in this place there
could be no angels. There was only work. And hunger. And fear.

A couple of days later, I was walking around the camp, around the barracks,
near the barbed-wire fence where the guards could not easily see. I was
alone. On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a little girl with
light, almost luminous curls. She was half-hidden behind a birch tree. I
glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German.
'Do you have something to eat?' She didn't understand. I inched
closer to
the fence and repeated the question in Polish. She stepped forward. I was
thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked
unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life.

She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence. I
grabbed the fruit and, as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly,
'I'll see you tomorrow.' I returned to the same spot by the fence
at the
same time every day. She was always there with something for me to eat - a
hunk of bread or, better yet, an apple. We didn't dare speak or linger. To
be caught would mean death for us both. I didn't know anything about her,
just a kind farm girl, except that she understood Polish. What was her name?
Why was she risking her life for me? Hope was in such short supply, and this
girl on the other side of the fence gave me some, as nourishing in its way
as the bread and apples.

Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car
and shipped to Theresienstadt camp in Czechoslovakia . 'Don't
return,' I
told the girl that day. 'We're leaving.' I turned toward the
barracks and
didn't look back, didn't even say good-bye to the little girl whose
name I'd
never learned, the girl with the apples.

We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down and
Allied forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed. On May 10, 1945, I
was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at 10:00 AM. In the quiet of dawn, I
tried to prepare myself. So many times death seemed ready to claim me, but
somehow I'd survived. Now, it was over. I thought of my parents. At least,
I
thought, we will be reunited.

But at 8 A.M. there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people running
every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers. Russian troops
had liberated the camp! The gates swung open. Everyone was running, so I did
too.
Amazingly, all of my brothers had survived; I'm not sure how. But I
knew that the girl with the apples had been the key to my survival. In a
place where evil seemed triumphant, one person's goodness had saved my
life,
had given me hope in a place where there was none. My mother had promised to
send me an angel, and the angel had come.

Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a Jewish
charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived the Holocaust
and trained in electronics. Then I came to America , where my brother Sam
had already moved. I served in the U. S. Army during the Korean War, and
returned to New York City after two years. By August 1957 I'd opened my own
electronics repair shop. I was starting to settle in.

One day, my friend Sid who I knew from England called me. 'I've got a
date.
She's got a Polish friend. Let's double date.' A blind date? Nah,
that
wasn't for me. But Sid kept pestering me , and a few days later we headed up
to the Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma. I had to admit, for a
blind date this wasn't so bad. Roma was a nurse at a Bronx hospital. She
was kind and smart. Beautiful, too, with swirling brown curls and green,
almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with life.

The four of us drove out to Coney Island . Roma was easy to talk to, easy to
be with. Turned out she was wary of blind dates too! We were both just doing
our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the boardwalk, enjoying the salty
Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by the shore. I couldn't remember
having a better time.

We piled back into Sid's car, Roma and I sharing the backseat. As European
Jews who had survived the war, we were aware that much had been left
unsaid between us. She broached the subject, 'Where were you,' she
asked
softly, 'during the war?' 'The camps,' I said, the terrible
memories still
vivid,
the irreparable loss. I had tried to forget. But you can never forget. She
nodded. 'My family was hiding on a farm in Germany, not far from
Berlin,'
she told me. 'My father knew a priest, and he got us Aryan papers.' I
imagined how she must have suffered too, fear, a constant companion.
And yet there we were, both survivors, in a new world. 'There was a
camp next to the farm.' Roma continued. 'I saw a boy there and I
would throw him apples every day.'

What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy.
'What did he look like? I asked. 'He was tall, skinny, and hungry. I
must
have seen him every day for six months.' My heart was racing. I
couldn't
believe it. This couldn't be. 'Did he tell you one day not to come back
because he was leaving Schlieben?' Roma looked at me in amazement.
'Yes!' 'That was me! ' I was ready to burst with joy and awe,
flooded
with emotions. I couldn't believe it! My angel.

'I'm not letting you go.' I said to Roma. And in the back of the
car on
that blind date, I proposed to her. I didn't want to wait. 'You're
crazy!'
she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for Shabbat dinner the
following week. There was so much I looked forward to learning about
Roma, but the most important things I always knew: her steadfastness,
her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, she had
come to the fence and given me hope. Now that I'd found her again, I
could never let her go.

That day, she said yes. And I kept my word. After nearly 50 years of
marriage, two children and three grandchildren, I have never let her go.

Herman Rosenblat, Miami Beach , Florida

Tom Ford

NO. 563
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