Publisher’s note: This editorial is from the Jan. 24, 2013, San Jose Mercury News.

Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid blew it. He had the votes for serious filibuster reform in the palm of his hand, and he chickened out.

Reid feared a day ahead when Democrats are no longer the majority party in the Senate. But his legacy will be that he abandoned desperately needed reform and chose more gridlock instead.

Every four years, following a presidential election, the Senate can review and revise its rules. Filibuster rules have strayed far from the tactic’s purpose and now allow the minority party to block not only votes but even debate on issues of the day. Whether Democrats or Republicans are in the majority, that’s just wrong.

Reid concocted a compromise with Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell that includes some limits on filibuster use, but it appears to put a lot of control in the hands of the minority and majority leaders, a plan ripe for abuse. In brief, the Senate will be able to avoid a filibuster if the majority leader, the minority leader and seven senators from each party agree.

But once the deal is sealed, what incentive does McConnell have to cooperate? By his own admission, he spent the last four years doing everything possible to block President Barack Obama from succeeding. And soon enough, the next presidential election will loom, giving GOP leaders an incentive to throw government back into gridlock and make Democrats look bad, regardless of what it does to the country.

Reid said Wednesday that he had the 51 votes to pass a “talking filibuster” rule, which would have required a senator to continuously hold the floor if he or she wants to hold up legislation. This is the filibuster famously depicted by Jimmy Stewart in “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.”

When the talking filibuster was in effect, it was rarely used. But McConnell and his Republican cohorts used today’s “filibuster lite” rules — pretty much just lodging an objection — to block more than 130 bills in recent sessions. Often they prevented even discussing an issue.

Reid told the Washington Post’s Ezra Klein that “I’m not personally, at this stage, ready to get rid (of the filibuster). With the history of the Senate, we have to understand the Senate isn’t and shouldn’t be like the House.”

The Senate should indeed be the more deliberative body of Congress. The problem, as Reid well knows, is that the current filibuster rules prevent deliberation of some of the most pressing issues. If gridlock returns in the next four years, it will be on his head as well as Republicans’.

Publisher’s note: This editorial is from the Jan. 20, 2013, Las Vegas Sun.

In his State of the State speech this past week, Gov. Brian Sandoval showed pictures of second-graders as he spoke. They were, he said, members of the “class of 2023.”

“It is my hope that the faces of these children will inspire us as we consider both the short- and long-term realities of our state,” Sandoval said.

Cynics might scoff, given that invoking policies for the good of the children is a tired political cliche, but we believe Sandoval is sincere. His use of the class of 2023 was a nice reminder of what adults — particularly politicians, educators and parents — are supposed to be doing: making things better for the generations to come.

Sandoval didn’t stop there. He noted that the work the Legislature does “will shape the future of our great state,” and he urged lawmakers to think beyond the next two-year budget cycle, which is typically what lawmakers and governors focus on.

“Our greater challenge is helping a Nevada that is still on the horizon,” Sandoval said. “It awaits us in the future. Not too far off, but far enough that we must consider what we can be.”

Again, cynics might scoff because speeches like this are typically filled with references to the future, but Sandoval’s call is relevant and necessary given the damage Nevada suffered in the Great Recession.

The nation’s economic woes exacerbated Nevada’s long-standing problems, including a poorly ranked education system and a threadbare network of social services.

The question this year is whether the state can make significant strides for not only the class of 2023 but also for the current generation.

Despite his call to consider the future, Sandoval’s budget is modest. There are some welcome increases, including those to education and social services, but they are hardly enough to restore previous cuts. There also is a business tax cut and a demand of no new taxes.

That’s hardly a bold leap into the future.

The excuse for not taking more dramatic steps is the economy. The state hasn’t recovered from the Great Recession, the boom times may never return, and the revenue isn’t there and no one wants to raise it.

But it’s worth noting that the good times — even those of a decade ago — were never good enough to make the investments needed. The state’s problems were routinely pushed into the future.

The results of that have been evident: The state hasn’t made needed investments in public programs, and Nevada ranks near or at the bottom in national rankings for education, children’s services and health care.

It’s dumbfounding that rankings like this have been acceptable for so long, but lawmakers and governors have come and gone with little significant change. Public apathy and small budgets, along with a fierce aversion to taxes, have resulted in political inertia. What passes for progress typically comes in small, incremental steps that are often later erased by budget cuts.

Something has to change if Nevada wants to see improvements. Obviously, real change doesn’t come overnight, but it takes bold action.

What will Nevada look like in 10 years for the students coming out of high school? Will it offer, as Sandoval called for, “an educated and healthy citizenry, a vibrant and sustainable economy, safe and livable communities, and an efficient and responsive state government”?

The question that he and the Legislature will have to ask is not only whether their actions take significant steps in that direction but whether that is the best they can offer to the members of the class of 2023.

Publisher’s note: This editorial is from the Jan. 16, 2013, Los Angeles Times.

Not long before the economy collapsed in 2008, California’s courts raised many fees and fines to pay for a far-reaching program of courthouse construction. The plan was not for new judicial palaces or unnecessary luxury, but for replacing buildings that were designed with a 1950s population in mind and constructed with equally outdated techniques that now jeopardize the safety of jurors, litigants and everyone else who uses them. The state’s budget distress put most of the program on hold as money from those higher fines and fees, which were imposed on a public also feeling the financial hard times, was diverted to pay for basic operations after court funding was slashed.

The diversion was necessary. All state operations had to be deeply cut during the crisis, including the courts. But now that voter-approved temporary tax increases and a gradually improving economy and housing market have slowed the cuts, the courts must be given at least a little room to breathe.

Gov. Jerry Brown’s proposed budget provides some good news: The governor backed off plans to confiscate the minimal reserve funds that trial courts had saved to ensure that they remained solvent even amid continuing fiscal emergencies. Still, his budget does take an additional $200 million from the court system, which will force it to close courthouses, cut services, increase more fees and continue to delay courthouse construction. In Los Angeles County, that would mean further retrenchment from a modern court system that serves its people and a return to an outdated system with impossibly long freeway treks to, for example, obtain domestic violence restraining orders or even to appear before a judge in a small claims or landlord-tenant dispute. It would mean that instead of safe, user-oriented facilities located near today’s population centers, the public — already paying higher fines and fees for updated buildings — must continue to struggle with postwar-era courthouses offering reduced service hours and diminished assistance.

Of course, every program that was cut over the last five years is getting in line to have its funding restored. Or rather, they’re jockeying for position at the front of the line. But Proposition 30, the tax hikes that voters approved in November, doesn’t provide funding for restoring previous cuts. California’s new supposed good budget times simply mean that for most programs there won’t be additional cuts. But for courts, the slashing continues.

Courts are not just another program. They are a coequal branch of government, quite obviously essential to the delivery of justice, but essential as well to a developing economy and a civil society that can resolve disputes fairly and efficiently. The Legislature should keep that in mind as it makes adjustments to Brown’s proposed budget.

By Ben Goldfarb

The generation of young people now entering the workforce – call us Millennials, or Gen Y, or the Vast Unemployed – has a very different relationship with environmentalism than our forebears did. The stereotype of the conservationist hurling himself between the whale and the harpoon is increasingly anachronistic and so too is the image of courageous litigators taking down evil polluters.

For better or worse, the modern environmentalist is more likely to partner with a chemical company than prosecute one.

It is true that alliances between environmental groups and corporations can benefit both the planet and companies’ bottom lines. Yet all too often, these partnerships serve to facilitate greenwashing and conceal destructive corporate behavior.

The challenge that the next generation of sustainability leaders face is to make sure that green business partnerships are genuine, that they are more than PR stunts.

We recognize that trying to tackle environmental problems without directly engaging private industry is probably folly – not to mention bad politics. However, despite having lived our lives with the consequences of corporate recklessness and unbridled consumption, we have capitulated to the system, in a sense: rather than trying to overthrow it, we increasingly elect to work within it.

So how does a cadre of young idealists bent on social change infiltrate companies who are deeply invested in the status quo? The same way any agent penetrates any institution: we need disguises.

In 2008, Tommy Hayes was working for Environmental Entrepreneurs (E2), a national network of sustainable business leaders, when the economy hit the skids. “Overnight, the only salient conversations in DC were about jobs,” Hayes remembers.

“And the business leaders had much better credentials than the strict environmentalists – their arguments were smarter, punchier. They had better insight into how money moves and motivates.”

Hayes recalls telling himself that that was how the game worked and that’s how he was going to play it.

Hayes, now 28, is a joint-degree student at the Yale School of Forestry and Environmental Studies and the Yale School of Management. Because of his scientific background, business school didn’t come naturally, he says, but moving away from his comfort zone was the whole point. “I can’t exactly throw open a company’s books and tell you what it all means, but now I can speak the lingo – and that makes a huge difference,” he says.

Given that the phrase “young environmentalist” is synonymous with “naïve” in many minds, using the right lexicon is crucial to avoiding quick dismissal.

I’ve observed a similar dynamic in 350.org’s Do The Math campaign, aimed at convincing universities to divest from fossil fuel companies. While the forebears of these activists would have been chaining themselves to condemned trees, modern crusaders have an intimate knowledge of their schools’ investment portfolios and speak the language of investor responsibility and rates of returns.

Divestment activists are no less passionate than their predecessors, but they’re more clinical; their weapon of choice is the 20-page report and the movement of money.

Of course, the ability to talk the talk means a lot more when it’s accompanied by real expertise. Charissa Rujanavech, also a Yale master’s student, abandoned a nascent career in conservation biology to pursue corporate sustainability after she decided that safeguarding wildlife populations was too small-scale to meet the environmental challenges at hand.

Rujanavech, 26, now studies life-cycle analysis, which charts the environmental impact of the materials that go into the creation of a product and beyond, and translated her new skills into an internship in the sustainability department of a major athletic company.

“When you manufacture a million shoes a day,” Rujanavech says, “you can make a small change in how much water or toxics go into a product and still have a huge impact.”

But convincing a company to make even a small change is no easy matter. After all, large corporations have been wildly profitable since long before the entry of green business principles into the mainstream. I’ve spoken with several people who have worked in corporate sustainability and, after their ideas were routinely and summarily rejected, came to realize that their department served as its de facto public relations.

That’s why tomorrow’s sustainability leaders will have to be as effective at communicating their message to those higher-up in the company (and the public) as they are at crunching numbers.

Plenty of green industries and industrial techniques rely on new, esoteric business models and processes. “You need to tell a powerful story to explain how these things work,” says Bonnie Frye-Hemphill, who at 26 is already a clean-tech veteran. “People already know what Chevron does. But how do you explain what, say, Solar Mosaic does in a clear and compelling way?”

Similarly, Hayes says that business school has served as an informal crash course in psychology, one that’s helped him reframe environmental concepts in terms that appeal to business minds.

In this fiscal climate, an even greater challenge than communicating big ideas is finding money for them. Many green initiatives are turning away from traditional funding sources – government grants and subsidies and NGO money – and toward crowd-funding. Solar Mosaic uses online contributions to put solar panels on buildings and then pays back investors (with interest) through energy savings.

A New York-based startup called ioby crowd-funds projects like community gardens and street beautification, while sites like RocketHub and Petri Dish solicit funding for scientific and environmental research. Navigating and exploiting these platforms is already a requisite skill for environmental leaders.

Yet no matter how thoroughly young environmentalists manage to integrate themselves into the corporate world, it is imperative that they remain, on some level, removed from it.

“Businesses have been allowed to operate in destructive ways for years,” says Hayes. “I feel comfortable telling them to shape up.”

For every company that voluntarily embraces green principles, there are five more that have to be shoved toward sustainability, and would happily cut corners if too-credulous environmentalists allow it.

Our generation may not feel antagonism toward private industry, but it’s essential that we retain a healthy skepticism of its motivations.

Ben Goldfarb is a master’s student at the Yale School of Forestry and co-editor of Sage magazine.

By Richard N. Velotta, Las Vegas Sun

It was clear as the “fiscal cliff” deadline closed in on federal lawmakers last month that there was no way an online poker bill would reach the floor of the Senate for a vote.

It was a disappointing way to end the year for millions of poker players who believed there was a slim chance for Congress to act on legislation that most Nevadans believe is a no-brainer to legalize an activity that already occurs and could provide badly needed revenue for federal coffers.

Don’t worry, some say. The feds will act when state lawmakers take matters into their own hands and begin approving play through a patchwork of regulations from state to state.

After sitting through several sessions organized by the National Council of Legislators from Gaming States last week at the Rio, I’m not so sure even that will happen.

Because gaming is all around us in Las Vegas, it’s easy to develop a false sense of security that neighboring states understand the industry and want to see online poker play as badly as we do. Based on conversations during the three-day conference, it appears that isn’t the case.

Many believe that now that Arizona Sen. Jon Kyl has retired, Majority Leader Harry Reid needs a new Republican sidekick to push federal legislation through. If that turns out to be Sen. Dean Heller, any bill proposed immediately would be perceived as beneficial to Nevada and possibly detrimental to other states, lawmakers at the conference said.

The council opposes federal legislation. They say the Reid-Kyl bill “would create an unnecessary federal gaming licensing regime and bifurcate authority over regulation of gaming and … put at risk critical revenues derived from state-regulated gaming.”

Directors of several state lottery organizations oppose it, too, and the governors of Idaho, Maryland, Rhode Island and Utah, along with the treasurer of Massachusetts, have written letters of opposition. (Gov. Brian Sandoval wrote a letter of support.) The lottery directors are irritated that the bill wouldn’t give them the same legislative benefits as operators of online poker.

Several Indian tribes also oppose federal and state oversight, saying their sovereign nation status would supersede regulation.

Meanwhile, the Nevada Legislature, which opens next month, will likely debate state legislation to allow the governor to negotiate compacts with other states that have legalized online poker and broaden the marketplace across state lines. That group could include New Jersey, which has a bill awaiting the signature of Gov. Chris Christie, and California, which is retooling its online poker proposals.

Passage of that legislation would almost certainly attract the attention of the federal Justice Department. Maybe that’s the strategy — a play to force the feds to move.

There’s still a strong contingent that doesn’t want Internet gambling approved. A Fairleigh Dickinson University study found that 67 percent of Americans want Internet gambling to remain illegal.

On top of that, Frank Fahrenkopf, one of the strongest lobbying voices for the gaming industry, announced this month he will step down as CEO of the American Gaming Association later this year.

It’s looking more and more like online poker proponents are going to have to fold.

By Kathryn Reed

I have not had an abortion.

But I would. I likely would have had one had I gotten pregnant when I didn’t use protection. I would have gotten an abortion – even today – if I were raped and impregnated.

I have friends and family members who have had abortions. It is probable some of my younger friends and family members will one day be added to that list.

Talk to any woman who has had an abortion. No one I know says it was an easy decision. No one I know laughs it off. While the physical aspects of the procedure are long gone, the emotional angst never quite fades away.

It is a monumental decision to bring a life into the world or not to. And the person whose body is affected is the only person who should be making that decision. Whether the woman consults with the man involved, family, friends, clergy, personal physician – whomever else – it is ultimately her decision.

It is shameful that in 2013, especially on this 40th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, I am even writing about abortion. While idealistically it would be great if there were never an unwanted pregnancy, that will never be a reality. I can type until my fingers are numb about contraception and still there will be unwanted pregnancies. There will always be medical reasons for an abortion as well as those in the case of rape.

In May 1989, Phyllis Schafly, who was the backbone behind defeating the Equal Rights Amendment, and Sarah Weddington, who defended Jane Roe in the 1973 Supreme Court decision, squared off at Harveys in Stateline as part of the casino’s lecture series.

I was there. I was 23 years old. I was covering the debate for the Tahoe Daily Tribune, where I was in my first job out of college. I know I did not grasp the significance of the women I was listening to or the debate. For me, I thought abortion had always been legal because it had been since long before I started having sex.

I think back now on that room filled with nearly 800 people and wonder if that many locals would come out today for a similar lecture.

Then I wonder why people aren’t angry that 40 years after abortions were legalized states are one-by-one limiting a woman’s access to a safe abortion. It isn’t about whether or not you would have an abortion. It’s about a woman having the right to make decisions about her body.

Government does not belong in anyone’s bedroom – as long as they are consenting adults.

People should have the choice to have sex (protected or not) with whom they want. And if a woman wants to terminate a pregnancy – for which there are myriad reasons – she should be able to do so. She did not need her parents or the government’s permission to get pregnant, nor should she need either of their permissions to get “unpregnant”.

This video says it so well. It’s not about taking sides or about being pro life or pro choice. Those labels are too limiting for our world today.

To the community,

The Kiwanis Club of Tahoe Sierra, an annual Adopt A Day of Nourishment sponsor, hosted the Jan. 14 Bread & Broth Mexican theme dinner at St. Theresa Church hall.

“Kiwanis is about helping people and we are happy to be able to serve. It is unfortunate that these meals are needed but since they are, Bread & Broth is always here to help people who are in need.”

In kind, Bread & Broth every year has always been able to count on the Kiwanis Club of Tahoe Sierra to make a $250 monetary sponsor donation and send a crew of community service minded club members to assist the B&B volunteers.

The Kiwanis Club of Tahoe Sierra was represented by Richard and Susan Dart, Mike and Marie Foster, Eric Schafer and Pat Frega. The hard working Kiwanis volunteer sponsor crew bagged and handed out baked goods, vegetables and desserts donated by local grocery and retail stores, served dinner and stayed to help with cleanup.

Bread & Broth and the community of South Lake Tahoe is very fortunate to have organizations like the Kiwanis Club of Tahoe Sierra who see a need and act to improve the lives of those in need. B&B is very grateful for the generous and continuous support of the Kiwanis Club in providing Monday evening meals. In addition, B&B all serves soup and pasta dinners on Friday at the Lake Tahoe Community Presbyterian Church.

If you or your organization is interested in volunteering or donating to the Bread & Broth program, please contact me at (530) 542.2876 or carolsgerard@aol.com.

Carol Gerard, Bread & Broth

By Gail Collins, New York Times

Forty years ago this month, the Supreme Court handed down the great abortion rights decision Roe v. Wade. To be honest, you’re not going to be seeing a whole lot of cake and Champagne. Time magazine recognized the occasion with a downbeat cover story. (“They’ve Been Losing Ever Since.”) Gallup polls suggest support for abortion rights is fading, particularly among young Americans, and that more people now regard themselves as “pro-life” than “pro-choice.”

On the other hand — I know you had faith that eventually we’d get to the other hand — the polls depend on the question. According to the Quinnipiac poll, if you ask Americans whether they agree with the Roe decision, nearly two-thirds say yes.

It’s always been this way. Americans are permanently uncomfortable with the abortion issue, and they respond most positively to questions that suggest it isn’t up to them to decide anything. “Should be a matter between a woman and her doctor” is usually a popular option.

Whatever recent changes there are in public opinion may be less about abortion than about the term “pro-choice.” This week, Planned Parenthood unveiled a pile of new research, some of which suggests that younger women don’t like labels. Or at least not that one. “We’ve been discussing changing our name for the past year or so,” said Kelsey Warrick, a Georgetown University student who’s president of Hoyas for Choice.

Maybe it’s like feminism, a word with a glorious history that’s rejected by many young people who are staunchly in favor of women’s rights. Maybe, as Dawn Laguens, the executive vice president of Planned Parenthood, suggested at a press conference this week, it’s just that young women feel as though they’re up to their ears in choices already.

We may never know, although if pro-choice activists want to rebrand themselves the Movement for Leaving Women Alone, it’s likely nobody under the age of 50 would object.

One way or another, the abortion rights cause needs all the help it can get. Abortion clinics around the country are reeling under crazy new rules that make it impossible for them to operate. In Virginia, the state board of health is demanding that clinics follow the same architectural standards as hospitals, including 5-foot-wide hallways. In Texas, the Legislature is considering a law that would require that all abortions be performed in ambulatory surgical centers. When the state passed that requirement for pregnancies beyond 16 weeks in 2004, every single clinic doing that procedure was forced to shut down. Only a handful managed to reopen — in a state that encompasses more than 261,000 square miles.

In Mississippi, the state’s one and only abortion clinic, the Jackson Women’s Health Organization, is in danger of closing because of a new law requiring that any doctor who does abortions have admitting privileges at a local hospital. This would be less of a problem if the local hospitals were not all terrified of giving privileges to anybody who performs abortions. When the clinic tried to advertise for a doctor who already had the requisite affiliation, the state medical journal refused to take the ad.

“We’re just doing business as usual. Trying to be there for the women of Mississippi,” said Betty Thompson, the former director who stayed on after she retired and is now working as a counselor.

Over the last 40 years, women seeking abortions have been put through a lot of unnecessary trauma. Trips of hundreds of miles to the nearest clinic. Requirements that they have ultrasounds, or have ultrasounds and listen to the physician describe the ultrasound, or have ultrasounds and then wait 24 hours before the procedure. (In Texas, the doctor who does the abortion also has to conduct the ultrasound, creating a scheduling nightmare.)

They’re caught in the middle of a political fight over a deeply personal issue that leaves most Americans feeling uneasy. If you want to rack up a real positive response on a poll, ask people whether the women or the politicians should make decisions about their pregnancies. One of the surveys commissioned by Planned Parenthood showed 83 percent of likely voters picked the women, including 64 percent of those who called themselves pro-life.

If there’s been any permanent message in this long battle, that’s been it. No matter how conservative the state, sooner or later you will hit the point where the people object to politicians messing with a woman’s private business. Mississippi voters rejected a statewide referendum to give any fetus the right of “personhood.” Voters in South Dakota, another state with a single, struggling, abortion clinic, have twice rejected total abortion bans.

Every time the anti-abortion movement pushes too far, it reminds people that its cause, no matter how filled with moral fervor, is basically about imposing one particular theology on the rest of the country. Over the long run, the nervous, ambivalent, uncomfortable public won’t let that happen.

By Terry Soule

No matter their age, our children are always our children. It is never easy to see them sick, or injured or hurting. Our mama-heart aches with each of their aches. As a mother of four grown children, I have experienced this many times over the years, but never so much as after our 38-year-old son, Adam, was hit while riding his bike in South Lake Tahoe, Aug. 21, 2012. (Read Adam Rose’s story here.)

The injuries he sustained were critical and many – almost complete traumatic amputation of his right foot and lower leg, compound fractures of his left arm, severe injury to his right arm, multiple abrasions which removed about 35 percent of the skin on his body, bruises too numerous to count.

When I first received the call about his accident, not much was known other than he had a broken leg. I thought “OK. That can be fixed fairly easily.” Later that night, after speaking with the admitting physician and learning the extent of the injuries, I made plans to go to Reno where Adam was in ICU. My prayers kept time with each breath I took as I traveled from the Bay Area to Reno. “Please keep him alive, Lord. Please heal him. Please keep him strong.”

Walking into ICU at Renown and seeing him in bed, bruised and broken, was something I will never forget.

As the days progressed, I was moved by Adam’s grace to all who helped him – his nurses and other caregivers never failed to receive a quiet “thank you” from Adam, even when what they had to do hurt him. I did not hear him complain one time, nor did I ever hear “Why me?”

Adam told me that he holds no bitterness for the person who hit him, though she had shown no remorse for her actions. He said the bitterness and anger would only hurt him, and that he felt sorry for her as she would have to live with what she did.

Adam’s life was forever changed that day, and he will carry the reminders in his body, mind and spirit for the rest of his life. No longer can he take long walks with his beloved dog, Silas, or heft 100-plus pounds of wood on his shoulder and carry it as he works as a carpenter. He faces an unknown future with no idea of how he will be able to support himself. Though he has lost strength and mobility in his body, his spirit, attitude and faith remain strong.

It has been said that adversity does not build character; rather, it reveals it. Adam’s character has been revealed through this, and this mama is so proud.

To the community,

This past Saturday morning I stopped by St. Theresa School with our kindergarten teacher to check on classroom pets because of how cold it was the night before. When we got into the building we quickly realized that something was wrong with the boiler.

I felt bad but, I called Father Grace because no one knows the school’s boiler like he does. We discovered that the circulating pump motor had died and with a boiler that is almost 55 years old that it was not something that was going to be easily replaced. He and I both started making phone calls to see what could be done.

Adam Ricards, who helps us with projects around the school, helped figure out where exactly the problem was located. We brought in space heaters and placed them

strategically in each classroom and prayed that that would help the pipes until we could find a new motor. On Monday we were able to order the motor with help from Don at Ferguson Plumbing/PVF. It arrived on Tuesday and was installed that day.

With help from our wonderful community, the students only missed one day of school and we were able to save all of our pipes.

I would like to thank the following people for helping us during our lack of heat emergency: Charlie Carr, Romeo Alaoen, Tom Finn, Western Nevada Supply, Don at Ferguson Plumbing, Adam Ricards, Danette Winslow, Sharon Filipko, Joanie San Agustin, and of course Father Grace.

Anne Filce, principal St. Theresa School