Last month, my wife and I were traveling on Route 10 from Hanover to West Lebanon. We were near Wilder Dam when I noticed a oncoming car flashing his headlights at me and the traffic behind me. I told my wife there must be a police officer ahead. And sure enough, just past the furniture store, there was a Lebanon police cruiser sitting in a turnout.
I didn’t have to brake to slow down because I was doing the speed limit. This officer was trying to do his or her job protecting me and others from drunken drivers, druggies and speeders who think they are NASCAR racers.
People buy AK-47s and AR-15s and say they are for protecting their family when they are working or away from home.
Their families are protected by the outgunned police department.
Most police are on call 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, protecting us and our friends and families, trying to stop the bad guys. But there are a lot of people who don’t care.
Someone enlists in the U.S. military, serves two or three years, does not see action and is called a hero. Police officers put their lives on the line every day, doing their job to protect us and our family and friends. What do they get called? Names.
Every day, police officers put themselves in harm’s way. So remember, they work for us. Show some respect and appreciation. They also have families they love and want to go home to.
Stop and think before you warn lawbreakers. Your friends and your family members could be on these roads.
The police motto is “Protect and Serve.” So let them do their job.
ROBERT POLLARD
Enfield
Forum contributor William Rosen writes that those who refuse to get vaccinated should be personally responsible for their medical costs if they get COVID-19 (“With liberty must come personal responsibility,” Aug. 5).
What an excellent solution to those who refuse the vaccine for myriad nonsensical reasons.
It is disheartening and maddening all at the same time, considering we were making good progress in getting back to normal. But thanks to those who know more than the scientists and the medical profession, we will one again be wearing masks.
Nice going, “anti-vaxxers.” You have your freedoms. Are you now going to rebel if you are asked to wear a mask again?
NANCY PARKER
Lebanon
The early days of August have merely flirted with temperatures in the low 80s. The heat waves of May, June and July have lessened. Vermont evenings have dipped into the 50s. Low morning temperatures have been perfect for running. Feeling swift-footed instead of slogging through the humidity was a welcome relief. Breathing was easier, too.
Long summer days have been spent working. Meeting art deadlines. Exploring new business opportunities. Marketing inventory. Creating new work. The business of art. At my easel somewhere around 2 p.m., my eyes shifted away from my painting. My gaze rested on the beautiful unspoiled landscape outside the studio. Across the emerald green was a striking visual interruption: A tree vibrantly displaying the shades of autumn.
Had the blur of this pandemic also negated the date on the calendar? Was a new season already in the offing? Deep shades of red, orange and yellow will soon settle in over the hills. Fall has begun to reveal itself despite a 10-day forecast of summer temperatures.
A morning meeting at a local gallery, of which I am a new member, looked different from my visit just the day before. The highly contagious delta variant, courtesy of the unvaccinated, has altered our business landscape.
Edited signs are beginning to appear at store entrances. Masks that were ever so recently “optional” are now “required.” Local businesses are once again mandating masks. Schools are making their mask plans, too.
Our highly vaccinated population is beginning to feel the variant chills. A new, heightened season of pandemic fear is in the offing. The reward of doing the right thing will, hopefully, keep us all safe, but added precautions have become necessary. Again.
The reality of a free, safe and effective vaccine held the promise of our breathing a collective sigh of relief, but that is not to be. COVID-19 safety protocols will once again settle in over the hills. Breathing easier was premature
ELIZABETH RICKETSON
South Pomfret