I wasn't nauseous during the first 36 hours of my ordeal with gastroenteritis (that's pronounced "diarrhea") a few days ago. But after things got so bad that I called 911 and our fabulous Walla Walla firefighters and paramedics whisked me off to the emergency room, the ride to ER was so rough that I did get nauseated and vomited in the ambulance.
Now neighbors and friends, it's not the ambulance driver or the ambulance or its tires and suspension -- it's these @#$%$#! Walla Walla streets!
It's time for us to tend to business and fix our streets. We've been voted the Friendliest Small Town in America, but our streets don't merit that tribute.
If a two-tenths of one percent extra local sales tax will get street repair under way, I'm for it.
Edwin A. Karlow