There is an old German proverb that goes "true charity sees the need not the cause."
There are differing ideas about the recently proposed ban on allowing dogs in public cemeteries in Starkville.
There are any number of marvelous things one might do as president, if Congress were not such a checked and balanced mess.
The Egg Bowl was played Wednesday on the Mississippi State campus and for time first time ever, it didn't matter who won or lost.
Pope Francis' American honeymoon is over (though the whole idea of a papal honeymoon smacks of Borgia-era excess).
During his speech at Tuesday's Columbus Rotary Club meeting, Golden Triangle Development LINK CEO Joe Max Higgins said he hopes to have every high-school junior in the Golden Triangle take the WorkKeys test.
What, in the name of God? It is a question that demands asking, that haunts this most recent atrocity.
The public hearing had just ended. As Tommie Cardin was packing up for his drive back to Jackson, Darren Leach approached him and made what seemed to me a curious comment.
Mississippians will be able to tell whether the criminal indictment faced by Christopher Epps means anything by how the 2015 edition of the Mississippi Legislature reacts.
Shirley, my walking partner turned house sitter, reported all went well at the Prairie house while we were away. She had only one scare when she feared Jack, the cat, had expired on the sofa.
As per your story on Veteran's Day about the oldest veteran in Lowndes County, I believe Dr. Robert Gilbert at age 99 years and 5 months is a WWII army vet living in Lowndes County.
Last year I wrote a letter to the editor over my dissatisfaction with the fans at Mississippi State home games.
So it turns out there is an Obamacare death panel after all.
"Since time memorial the Choctaw Indians have lived in Mississippi, and have made baskets of the reed cane which grows in the swamps of the south." So begins a ca. 1920 letter from Mrs. J.E. Arnold, a Baptist missionary to the Choctaw in Union.
In 1953 the French writer Jean Giono published a thin volume, titled, "The Man Who Planted Trees." The story's narrator, hiking alone in the south of France, comes upon a desolate, treeless valley covered in wild lavender. The year is 1910.
It's been a beautiful fall day. I am healthy, reasonably intelligent, have good friends and a roof, albeit rusty, over my head. But I burrow, downcast, on my denim couch beneath a tiger throw, wondering why I feel so terrible about two football games. Auburn
Last week, I spent a day at Drake University in Des Moines, Iowa, where some students and I talked about protest. Des Moines is six hours up the road from Ferguson, Missouri, the St. Louis suburb where Michael Brown, an unarmed teenager, was shot to death by a police officer in August, prompting weeks of often violent clashes between protesters, rioters and heavily militarized police.