With all the flu going around Sam and I have taken some small measures to increase our chances of not getting sick. Vitamin C supplements are dropped into a glass of water like the "Fizzies" of the 1950s.
Most of us, one time or another, have been called upon -- or taken it upon ourselves -- to serve as a tour guide. The call came for me a couple weeks ago. An eminent musician would be here for three days and his host wondered if I would give him a tour, share with him some of the "historical richness" of our community.
I have a problem with February being Black History Month. The role of blacks in the exploration and settlement of the Tombigbee River Valley is so important and so significant it should be celebrated every month.
Someone asked me a while back when my columns appear in The Dispatch. The answer is, I don't know.
This newspaper employs more than one reasonably close friend of the Gabe Parker family.
It was a cold evening last week when I headed upstairs. The kittens were bedded and all the outside animals, plants, and structures were adequately heated. That's when I smelled something like wires burning.
Lobbyists have been around as long as there have been lawmaking bodies. Once they were seeking favorable rules and regulations for the private economy. Today, more and more, lobbyists are seeking customers.
On a recent, brilliantly cold morning while navigating a kayak down the Buttahatchee somewhere between Lawrence Bridge Road near Caledonia and Highway 45, I thought about the late Robert McG. Thomas Jr., the celebrated writer of obituaries for the New York Times.
On Tuesday afternoon, March 18, 1919, Columbus burned.
The final hearings for the failed Kemper power plant are under way this week at the Mississippi Public Service Commission (PSC).
Half-eaten acorns lay scattered below the oak trees. We've often complained the squirrels were wasteful not eating the whole acorn nor burying the acorn for another day.
Sometimes stories just fall together and need to be written. I recently bought an 1889 Wheeling, West Virginia newspaper with a front-page story about train robbers holding up a Mobile and Ohio Railroad train at Buckatunna.
The football hung in the air, looming larger and larger against the dark November sky, glory tumbling toward me in a slow arc.
And here we are, one year later.
What are you willing to look past to get what you want?
The Monday matinee of "The Post" at Malco Theater drew an audience of about a dozen gray-hairs, present company included.
The Prairie is home to a multitude of critters. Some we embrace, some we tolerate, and some, well, are simply intolerable.
For as long as I can remember, I've been walking the trestle. By that I mean walking out on the old railroad bridge over the old channel of the river near the south end of First Street near Carrier Lodge. My children have "walked the trestle," so have the grandchildren.
After having decided to end my column in protest to possible legislation that could kill the Columbus Convention and Visitors Bureau and cripple tourism in Columbus, I have had to reconsider.
A lot of Mississippians are happy with our existing state of affairs.
2. Slimantics: The news from Lake What-the-heck LOCAL COLUMNS
3. Ask Rufus: A tornado's wrath LOCAL COLUMNS
5. Editorial cartoon for 3-23-18 NATIONAL COLUMNS