Bears were pros
Congratulations to the outstanding Baylor team in the NCAA championship game! I was watching the Final Four games as a longtime UCLA Bruins fan. I saw the last minute buzzer-beater by Gonzaga and assumed they would win the championship. Was I ever wrong!
My husband and I tuned into the final game on Monday night and what we saw was a team of “professional” basketball players from Baylor bring their “A” game to the floor. Congratulations to all — well played! You should all be very proud of the team and the professionalism you brought to the finals. Kudos to you and to your coaching staff.
Kerry Wiger, Oceanside, Ca.
This past Easter weekend, the most sacred of Christian holidays, the Trib, through guest columnist Hal Wingo, took the opportunity to point out what a callous, selfish, hate-filled group evangelical Christians are and how much we support all of Donald Trump’s real and alleged biases. Among those biases, he cites “women’s rights” — which, of course, is code for “abortion on demand” anytime, anywhere.
In spite of his many shortcomings and whatever the reason, Donald Trump was the most pro-life president in the modern history of our nation. Anything else he did or didn’t do pales in comparison to the actions he took in response to the 62 million babies killed in this country since 1973. That staggering number of innocent deaths makes the right to life the most important issue of our time. I am fairly confident that Mr. Wingo’s Baptist preacher father would agree with me and the multitudes of evangelical defenders of human life.
Gene Griffin, Lorena
Well, I was all prepared to buck up and watch Major League Baseball — scratching, spitting and endless delaying be damned. Then they apparently were told to focus, wipe off the excess drool and pick up their toys to move their all-star game because of some political decision made in Atlanta.
I’ll continue comfortably not watching them. We don’t ask our elected officials sports questions — vice-versa rules.
Juanita Case, Hewitt
One big owl
In late summer or early autumn of 1969, my friend Gary and I decided we needed to catch and raise pigeons. We did well with a dip net, toe sack and flashlight, catching them roosting under bridges. Then one night I decided that the best place to catch roosting pigeons had to be in the open space at the top of the Suspension Bridge where the support cables were attached.
So, late at night, probably Friday since we couldn’t get a date, I climbed up on the cables at the low point, and with dip net, toe sack and flashlight in hand. Sliding your butt up those cables doesn’t seem difficult, but when you get to the top, it’s a long way down.
I eased through the opening, flipped on my flashlight and looked into the huge eyes of a three-foot-tall horned owl! She looked really alarmed. At her feet were three tiny white balls of fluff with tiny beaks!