On the front page of the May 9, 1952, edition of this newspaper, a page that has stripped across the bottom: "Week's best slogan: We'll get more done if we work together," is a story about Tennessee Williams' visit to Columbus. This was the playwright's first time back in his birthplace, according to the article, since he was 3 years old.
While battling a case of cabin fever on a cold, rainy afternoon the Sunday before Christmas, I sent Craig Hill a text asking if he wanted to go paddling. We'd had a lot of rain and the river was high.
It is not every day you drive down Seventh Avenue North in Columbus -- a timeworn neighborhood made more so by a tornado 10 months ago -- and see young Amish women in calico skirts toting power tools through red clay mud.
On a July day in 1966, MSU student and future Oktibbeha sheriff Dolph Bryan walked into the Starkville Ford dealership with the intention of buying a new car. As it happened, a salesman was sitting in the car Bryan would buy. He was reading a newspaper.
Chances are if you ever took an art appreciation course you encountered Édouard Manet's "Le Dejeuner sur l'herbe" ("The Luncheon on the Grass"). In this large canvas -- now acknowledged as a masterpiece but considered scandalous at the time -- the French Impressionist portrayed two men and two women picnicking in an idyllic wooded setting.
Monday afternoon Bill Cole sat on a barstool in the empty bay of a metal building that houses Dixie Towing, the New Hope business he has owned and operated for 30 years and looked out across the road. Cole was wearing pressed jeans, cowboy boots and a black long-sleeved shirt. His swept-back white hair gives him the look of a country music star -- think Charlie Rich.
This past Sunday Ed Rice, Bobby Manning and I were headed north on Wolf Road when Bobby for no apparent reason launched into a narrative about his family history.
Try to hold these two images in your mind. A young Mennonite man who spends workdays with his father, Michael, installing and adjusting control panels for aerators in catfish ponds in Noxubee County.
By the time he had worked five years in a local manufacturing plant Tony Parson knew he wanted out. But there was the usual ballast of house payments, health insurance, groceries, children, more insurance. He would endure the plant for 17 more years, until 2006.
When someone, who knows you well, gives you a list of sites to visit in and around his hometown and one of them is a place called Rabbit Hash, chances are, if you have the time and any curiosity, you're going to give it a look.
Awhile back I included in an emailed invitation to a friend to go paddling on the Columbus Lake near the lock and dam a quote from Kenneth Grahame's classic "The Wind in the Willows."
Just after 5 o'clock Wednesday afternoon HD Taylor pushed through our back gate. He was carrying a small cooler of catfish strips and a 14-inch cast-iron skillet.
When I phoned Paul Mack to finalize plans to go with him on one of his bird walks in Friendship Cemetery, he asked if I had a set of binoculars.
If you are driving down Jemison Mill Road near Steens and happen see three abandoned kittens emerge from a hollow tree like a scene from a fairy tale and you turn around for a second look, you might as well clear off the front seat to make way for additional passengers.
Around 5 o'clock on a recent Wednesday afternoon I was standing in the wilds of Pickens County, Alabama, in the only whitewater rapids on the Sipsey River, with a peach in one hand and a cell phone in the other.
Wednesday afternoon walking through downtown you felt as if you were trapped inside a pizza oven. Thus the late afternoon rain provided a welcome finish to the day, even if you were riding a bike on the Riverwalk, as I happened to be.
This time of year when I can't sleep, I put on my headlamp, go into the backyard and wander around in the garden. There is something otherworldly about all this natural beauty shrouded in darkness.
HELSINKI, FINLAND -- We took a seat on the ferry to Suomenlinna next to a man eating strawberries. He looked like an athlete, tall, lean with California-surfer good looks. He was dressed in his bicycle garb, helmet at his side.
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