BVN Opinion

MADERA - The printed newspaper is dead. When the Internet exploded into everyone's homes with high speed connections, the diagnoses was given and it didn't look very good for traditional newspapers. Now that the news is as close as your computer, television, smart-phone or tablet, who needs ever purchase a print newspaper again?

I once had a conversation with Madera Tribune publisher Chuck Doud. We discussed the future of print newspapers. Chuck bleeds news ink and of course defended the product he does a great job of turning out. I on the other hand had made a simple statement that seems to be very true today, "Printed newspapers will only survive until someone invents a handheld device which lets you get the entire Internet in the bathroom."

EDITORIAL - I just learned my uncle, James Fry, died last week at the age of 78. He had been suffering from cancer for the last few years and it had spread into his brain. His family had refused to allow my mother to see him but a few weeks ago I learned he was at Community Regional Medical Center and I made arrangements for her to visit with him one last time.

I respected his family's wishes and did not go to see him myself. My mother, however, after having heard his illness had progressed to the point that he had been admitted to the hospital, was having trouble sleeping and said that she felt she needed to take what might be her last opportunity to tell her brother that she loved him one last time. So I helped her find him. Apparently he welcomed her visit and for an hour they were as close as they used to be.

A Look at My Own Life After The Death of My Uncle
 by Jack W Porter, Jr.

I just learned my uncle, James Fry, died last week at the age of 78. He had been suffering from cancer for the last few years and it had spread into his brain. His family had refused to allow my mother to see him but a few weeks ago I learned he was at Community Regional Medical Center and I made arrangements for her to visit with him one last time.

I respected his family's wishes and did not go to see him myself. My mother, however, after having heard his illness had progressed to the point that he had been admitted to the hospital, was having trouble sleeping and said that she felt she needed to take what might be her last opportunity to tell her brother that she loved him one last time. So I helped her find him. Apparently he welcomed her visit and for an hour they were as close as they used to be.