"For some, politics is a racket that's too good to pass up."
The walls of Toni's bedroom were lined with books from the floor to the ceiling. At the foot of the bed was a small sitting area with a thrifted brocade couch and a small coffee table, where Toni drank tea in real china tea cups, also thrifted.
A friend, who by day is a buttoned-down lawyer, has for years driven a pickup truck. He's not the only person in that line of work to do so. Last time I checked, our D.A. drove a Toyota Tacoma. I suspect the truck for these guys is an antidote for long hours reading tedious legal briefs or time spent in the bowels of the courthouse doing title searches.
Some aspects of the rivalry between Ole Miss and State leaves me baffled. Don't misunderstand; as long as MSU is playing Ole Miss, there is no contest. MSU is the choice over Ole Miss hands down.
Like many folks in Columbus, I read with strange fascination the account of Monday's Columbus Municipal School Board meeting, which shows there is no accounting for taste, I suppose.
Sitting on the homemade bench, my one hand rested on Rex's head. My fingers moved slowly and absentmindedly around his neck and over his long ears. The other hand held a book while I read to him.
When a Sunday school class needs to elect a treasurer, a name is put forward and everybody says "aye." That's that. Nice and simple.
Friday was the 70th anniversary of D-Day. It's a day when I always think of my Uncle Orman Kimbrough.
In the spring Columbus residents quietly and with little fanfare transform their town into an oversized botanical garden.
Today marks the end of one of the most regrettable political campaigns in recent Mississippi history.
Martha died at the age of 29 after having suffered a stroke. Martha, namesake of Martha Washington, spent most of her life behind bars. Her remains are housed at the National Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C.
A question arose last week about Nashville. Not Nashville, Tennessee, but Nashville, Lowndes County, Mississippi.
Elbert came in the back door shaking his head. "You ought to go see that cabbage; it's as big as a tire." Elbert Ellis is the maintenance person here at The Dispatch. He doesn't get excited easily. "Down at the Shell station," he said, pointing east.
The concept of an apprenticeship has always made absolute sense to me. I can actually remember when such skills as blacksmithing or carpentry came from a history of family work.
"These are the times that try men's souls," Thomas Paine wrote two days before Christmas 1776. America had declared itself free of England six months earlier, but the British army was mighty. Many rebels were feeling, well, less rebellious.
Nature is remarkably active in the mornings. Taking some time for quiet meditation, I noticed nature has not done the same.
Much has been written about, and many towns have claimed to be, the birthplace pf Memorial Day. The U.S. Veteran's Administration reports that more than 24 towns claim to be the birthplace of this weekend's celebration.
Some stories are so tender, so close to the bone, so rich in human emotion, the teller entrusted with them feels daunted by the responsibility that goes with the retelling. This is one such story. By any measure Lee Frederick was a brilliant child. Brilliance, in most cases, comes with obsessiveness. Lee had plenty of that too.
We get along like cats and dogs. Literally.
I mentioned to Dewitt Hicks how lovely the gardens at his home, Rosewood Manor, look when I cut through on Seventh Street North. "But I never see anyone working in the gardens?"
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