Letters May 8: Honouring local talent; the dangers of jacked-up trucks

Honour Hunt, Martin by naming roads

Richard’s Hunt’s incorporation of his father’s raven crest into the beautiful design elements of the new limited edition Canadian coin being celebrated makes me wonder when we might have a Henry Hunt Boulevard or a Mungo Martin Boulevard in the capital city? Or both?

Thelma Fayle

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Jacked-up trucks a danger to everyone

The recent letter defending the ­practice of raising a pickup truck is way off the mark.

Auto manufacturers spend millions of dollars on every model of vehicle to ensure that the best engineering and design principle are used in the design and manufacture of those vehicles so they meet the Canadian vehicle safety standards.

These standards also apply to any manufacturer who modifies a vehicle for specialty purposes. These same standards protect everyone who operates a vehicle on our roadways by ensuring each vehicle can withstand the force of an impact between certain heights measure from the ground.

And part of any modified vehicle that is positioned outside of these heights presents a danger to the ­occupants of any other vehicle it comes into contact with.

The practice of jacking up trucks and installing aftermarket bumpers and other equipment for use on public roads is selfish and immature. These same modifications should be considered to be an assault with a weapon if they are deemed to have been instrumental in injury or death caused to a person in another vehicle.

It is time for the police to start enforcing the laws governing motor vehicle standards in the province.

Mike Wilkinson

Recycling solution starts at the top

I had to chuckle as I read the commentary “by a repressed recycler.” It’s sad, but true, that recycling is fraught.

But I would not point my ­finger so pointedly at the Capital Regional ­District. We have a garbage ­problem that stems from a lack of ­accountability by the companies who produce and distribute the things we transform into garbage.

Some varieties of plastic are recyclable, but there is a dizzying and ever-proliferating array of single-use, non-recyclable items like polystyrenes, low-density polyethylenes, ­polypropylenes, multi-layer films, composite plastics and many other combos/derivatives.

We’re damned if we do: Separating everything is difficult and ­expensive. But we’re damned if we don’t: ­Cancelling waste diversion and recycling would cause Hartland Landfill to fill up in a heartbeat, and we would have a new headache.

What we really need is a shift to a circular model, in which the producers are responsible for the full life cycles of their products and packaging.

For this, governments higher up the food chain than municipalities need to step in.

Dwight Owens

A little hummingbird, desperate to fly away

I realized the little chick on my hummingbird feeder, for about two weeks now, was the little male I found on the grass verge. He was just developing his bright back green feathers.

When I found him, I nearly stepped on him. He was nestled in the grass beneath the tree, trying desperately to fly only to find he was turning around in circles because he only had one wing. The other had been ripped from his body. Also an open wound on his back was bleeding. For four hours wrapped in a warm cloth, he happily drank from my dropper.

The Wild Animal Rehabilitation Centre has a pickup centre about 15 minutes from my home; I thought about it. I either wrap him up and bring him indoors where he may or may not die, or ask for help.

Alternatively, a cage could be used to keep him outdoors since he couldn’t fly, but there was the issue of the stabbed back, he must be in pain.

And so my husband and I drove to the Wild ARC rescue centre. “We have to save as many as we can,” said the assistant as I handed over the little chick, still trying desperately to use his wing to fly away.

Apparently, the rescue centre has a warm facility there for injured birds and this tiny soul wanted so badly to fly away.

Meanwhile, his parents have been flying back and forth here at the ­feeders and surrounds … crying, as am I, at the destruction caused by a domestic cat that is allowed to roam neighbourhood gardens terrorizing the lives of our songbirds during the ­nesting season.

Sheenagh E. Rose


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