“FACTS OF THE FUTURE.”

Southland Times, Issue 22297, 12 April 1934, Page 9

“FACTS OF THE FUTURE.”

To the Editor.

Sir, —The other day, as I, being a member of the general public, walked across the north-east corner of Queen’s Park, I dreamed a dream. I dreamt that things had moved forward (or was it backward?) a few years, and I was showing a stranger the public reserves of our city. The park appeared to be entirely surrounded by a high fence, in which the stranger attempted to open a gate. “Sorry,” I said, “you cannot go in there! That is the property of the N — I Tennis Club.” The stranger appeared surprised and tried another gate. “Sorry,” I said, “that is the property of the N— —■ I Bowling Club.” He then tried another gate, and the same thing happened. In fact, it happened so often that, in a few moments, we were surrounded by gates, the “Open Sesame” to which was membership of a club (not always N I it is true, but still, a club). In fact things were becoming impossibly impassable when a voice shouted “Fore!”, and I awoke, and it was all a dream and there were no enclosures, no gates and no private clubs, only open fresh air. and a few golfers who had as much right there as I.

I made my way to the Public Library and then, by chance, found a book called “The Midlander” by Booth Tarkington in which I found the following true and curiously appropriate words—“ The facts of the future” the enthusiast replied instantly. “The future—.” “What d’you mean talkin’ about the facts of the future? There ain’t any facts in the future. How you goin’ to have any facts that haven’t happened yet? A fact is something that’s either happened or is happening right now.” “No, sir,” Dan exclaimed. “The present is only a fraction of a second, if it’s that much; the past isn’t any time at all—it’s gone; everything that amounts to anything is in the future. The future is all that’s worth anybody’s thinkin’ about. That’s why I want you to think about the future—.” More appropriately still, this conversation referred to the very thing which is going on in Invercargill now—an addition to a town. Turning backwards and enclosing a piece of land which is already public is not thinking of the future—it is not progressive, it is retrogressive. Anyone who can rise above his own immediate surroundings and see Invercargill as a whole will realize that as the city spreads it will spread north-eastwards. In a few years’ time it will reach to the racecourse. When it does so, where then will be the reserves and playing areas? Is any provision to be made for them? Triose who provide for the city’s needs should be men of vision and foresight, who move on ahead of building schemes and private enetrprise and cater for the future —not for the present needs of a few selfish people. “The present is only a fraction of a second—if it’s that much.” Halfway between Elies Road and the racecourse I saw (not in a dream) a large piece of ground, which, owing to gorse and uneven surface, would be a poor proposition as a building site, but which would, in the hands of a capable man (such as our superintendent of reserves) become an ideal reserve. There is sufficient flat surface for all the games area required, and with the planting of trees and some laying out and draining, the hollows could become beautiful shelters and children’s playgrounds. This piece of ground, which can be found by anyone who walks to the end of St; Andrew street, occupies one of the highest positions in the district, is sheltered from the south-west by the city itself and from the east by the racecourse trees. But above all it has the essential qualification of being the centre of a future suburb. I am, Sir, one of those who THINK ABOUT THE FUTURE.