There is something different about this place, all right. We would have a hard time counting the number of letters we've received over the years from visitors delighted, if not bewildered by the over-the-top servings of Southern hospitality they enjoyed while passing through our lovely ville.
The following is a response to Birney Imes' column of Aug. 10 titled, "An open letter to Mayor Smith." On Aug. 6, 2014, the Mayor and City Council of Columbus had a budget meeting. In that meeting the Council deadlocked on a number of issues related to some important pay raises for some of the City's valuable employees.
Each season has its own special character. Summer always was and I guess to me it always will be June, July and August, the months when school was out.
As midday neared on a cool July day in Mississippi (strange as that sounds), a 91-year-old hopped (strange as that sounds) up the stage steps, approached and embraced the lectern at the Neshoba County Fair.
On Aug. 5, we published a story on the renovations currently being made at the Kroger store on Highway 45. I didn't write that story, nor was it the story I had hoped to write.
Coming in from feeding the bunnies, I found Sam doing his morning pushups. He held the pose as he watched me lie on the floor and look up at him. "I have some news. There are skunks under the house."
In examining the historic architecture of Columbus, the earliest houses other than log houses are the vernacular raised-cottage and the late Federal style.
Mr. Mayor, do you have any idea what effect your actions Wednesday have had on the people of Columbus? You are the face of Columbus. Friday your face appeared in the state's largest newspaper under a headline proclaiming you had given yourself a $10,000 raise after a discussion of the city's budget deficit.
One of our aldermen has expressed a troublesome and sad view of the future of our downtown. He believes that downtown is doomed to mundane daytime activity and total nighttime irrelevance. That view, while certainly possible, if not probable, is a challenge this board should meet head-on.
Shirley, my walking partner, and I sat on the back steps watching Sam, Charles and Ralph cut down 30-foot cedar trees close to the house.
The late state Sen. Grey Ferris, an author the Mississippi Adequate Education Program, had a pat answer whenever he heard someone say that generous funding of Mississippi's public schools wouldn't fix what's broken.
It's been almost 474 years since Hernando de Soto dined on barbecue pork in the Black Prairie just west of the Tombigbee River.
Donna Grant deserves a byline on today's column. Several weeks ago someone mentioned Al Puckett had been named distinguished hospital trustee of the year for the state and wondered why it hadn't been in the paper.
As part of my active (as opposed to financial) volunteer pledge this year I have chosen to work with the Alzheimer's Walk scheduled for Oct. 12. Medical literature distinguishes between the types of dementia, but the details of the ravages of this ever more common disease are astounding.
Sunday afternoon found us outside trying to coax our waterlogged flowers back to life while trying to figure out a way to get rid of the slugs and snails that seem to have taken a recent liking to our front porch.
A lithe young singer, Taylor Swift, had a big hit with "Mean" four years ago. The song is a picked-on teen's lament that her classmates are cruel.
The Prairie is not always paradise. Momma used to say, "I'm glad not everybody likes the same thing 'cause then everybody'd want my Henry." Dad wasn't named Henry, but we got the point.
As might be expected, the earliest houses constructed in the upper Tombigbee River Valley were constructed mostly of log. The term "log cabin," though, is not a very good description of many of the log structures that were built.
When it started raining I walked down off the railroad tracks through briars into a dense stand of sweet gum. This will be just fine. Just like the deer I had seen near the trestle would likely do, I'll wait out the storm here under the trees.
They say that the Mississippi Delta begins in the lobby of the Peabody Hotel in Memphis and ends at Vicksburg, Mississippi's, Catfish Row.
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