Friday, 14 August 2009 08:31
Hurricane Charley - Five Years After
Governor Charlie Crist paid a visit to Punta Gorda Thursday marking the 5th
Anniversary of the day Category 4 Hurricane Charley made landfall in
the small gulf coast city. He spoke at the newly built Charlotte
Harbor Event Center – which sits on the site of the old municipal
auditorium destroyed by the storm. WGCU’s Valerie Alker reports.
Anniversary of the day Category 4 Hurricane Charley made landfall in
the small gulf coast city. He spoke at the newly built Charlotte
Harbor Event Center – which sits on the site of the old municipal
auditorium destroyed by the storm. WGCU’s Valerie Alker reports.
Published in
WGCU News
Thursday, 23 July 2009 08:09
Phil Jones remembers Walter Cronkite
A private funeral service
will be held tomorrow in Manhattan long time CBS News Anchor Walter
Cronkite who died last Friday at the age of 92. Naples Resident Phil
Jones was a correspondent for CBS News for 32 years before retiring in
2001. Jones says Walter Cronkite was his friend and mentor at a time
when CBS was arguably the nation’s preeminent broadcast news outlet.
will be held tomorrow in Manhattan long time CBS News Anchor Walter
Cronkite who died last Friday at the age of 92. Naples Resident Phil
Jones was a correspondent for CBS News for 32 years before retiring in
2001. Jones says Walter Cronkite was his friend and mentor at a time
when CBS was arguably the nation’s preeminent broadcast news outlet.
Published in
WGCU News
Monday, 20 July 2009 08:00
Moon Poem
Today is the 40th anniversary of the day Apollo 11 astronaut Neil Armstrong became the first man to set foot on the moon. July 20, 1969 was a day that many who were alive to see it will remember for the rest of their lives. Sanibel poet Joe Pacheco sent us this poem that he wrote on that day:
Where Were You On July 20, 1969? – Joe Pacheco, Sanibel
On the eve of my 39th birthday,
wheeling the TV cart into the living room of my center hall colonial
with my wife and in-laws and my eldest daughter Randy on her grandfather’s lap,
(four year old Allegra asleep in her room), five pairs of human eyes drinking in the incredible —
men on the moon, greatest scientific feat of all time,
and I still struggling with the rabbit ears antenna to make the image clearer;
Armstrong’s carefully prepared “one step, one leap” metaphor
milking in best Madison Avenue style
the great moment for what it would always be worth;
my father-in-law and I engaged in speculation
about how Jewish astronauts could observe Rosh Hodesh,
or say the prayer to the new moon while standing on it,
my daughter interrupting, “Grandpa, I know the prayer by heart”;
then all of us quiet for a long time —
my last hope that it might be a hoax gone, I felt bereft —
beauty and belief and fancies once owned proudly
now replaced by a lifeless sphere;
next day biggest headline ever on front page of the Times:
MEN LAND ON MOON and a poem by Archibald MacLeish
followed a few days later by a special edition featuring several poems,
some acclaiming the achievement,
others lamenting the loss,
a feast for poets but my muse silent,
lifeless.
Since then, the moon reminds me from time to time
that on that day a member of my species trampled on her face,
violating with one irreverent step
a million years of magic and myth and wondrous gazing —
brother Apollo’s module chariot pulling from afar and away from us,
the last ebb of silver dream.
Where Were You On July 20, 1969? – Joe Pacheco, Sanibel
On the eve of my 39th birthday,
wheeling the TV cart into the living room of my center hall colonial
with my wife and in-laws and my eldest daughter Randy on her grandfather’s lap,
(four year old Allegra asleep in her room), five pairs of human eyes drinking in the incredible —
men on the moon, greatest scientific feat of all time,
and I still struggling with the rabbit ears antenna to make the image clearer;
Armstrong’s carefully prepared “one step, one leap” metaphor
milking in best Madison Avenue style
the great moment for what it would always be worth;
my father-in-law and I engaged in speculation
about how Jewish astronauts could observe Rosh Hodesh,
or say the prayer to the new moon while standing on it,
my daughter interrupting, “Grandpa, I know the prayer by heart”;
then all of us quiet for a long time —
my last hope that it might be a hoax gone, I felt bereft —
beauty and belief and fancies once owned proudly
now replaced by a lifeless sphere;
next day biggest headline ever on front page of the Times:
MEN LAND ON MOON and a poem by Archibald MacLeish
followed a few days later by a special edition featuring several poems,
some acclaiming the achievement,
others lamenting the loss,
a feast for poets but my muse silent,
lifeless.
Since then, the moon reminds me from time to time
that on that day a member of my species trampled on her face,
violating with one irreverent step
a million years of magic and myth and wondrous gazing —
brother Apollo’s module chariot pulling from afar and away from us,
the last ebb of silver dream.
Published in
WGCU News
Friday, 13 February 2009 10:58
Charleston Park
State Road 80 east from Ft. Myers in Lee County meanders through many older communities. There are the river towns of Alva, Olga, and Ft. Denaud. (duh-no) And on the south side of roadway there’s Charleston Park. If you weren’t looking for it – you’d never know it was there. But it has been since 1926, and many descendants of the original residents who worked in the surrounding fields and groves are still there. WGCU’s Valerie Alker took a ride through Charleston Park this week with longtime community activist Alice Washington and recorded her story.
Published in
WGCU News
Wednesday, 29 October 2008 00:00
Betty Muzinara at Florida Gulf Coast University
Published in
WGCU News