Columns

Last spring, we did a detailed story about trouble we had in our newspaper office. We did the story and provided a QR code for our readers to access videos of the thousands of bats that we had in the walls of our building.

DEAR EDITOR: In Cassie Condrey’s column last week, a question was posed: do you think a man in a robe you’ve never met should decide if you should or should not be a mother? For me the answer is yes. Even a goal as worthy as motherhood must have checks and balances on the means to achieve that goal.

(Using) My Voice By Cassie Condrey When my husband and I decided we were ready for another baby, it didn’t happen. It had happened easily and without much thought with our first, after one dreadful miscarriage and two that were only little blips of possibility.

It’s very possible that I might be in the minority when it comes to appreciating certain seasons of the year. I must say, next weekend will bring about one of my most dreaded times of the year.

Three things are on my mind right now. Single- mindedness, Lent and self-denial, and using what you’ve been given.

DEAR EDITORS: Congratulations to the paper on the excellent articles celebrating Black History Month and especially to Frededreia Willis-Dunham for her revealing account of the Farm Security Administration’s egregious actions in Transylvania in 1938 and their ongoing repercussions. As she explains, this was essentially a racially motivated landgrab by the federal government.

I never valued the significance of jury duty until I found myself the victim of a crime. This was many years ago when I worked at a local video store during the evenings, and commuted to Louisiana Tech during the day. One night, as I locked the doors to the store and was walking to my car behind the building, a man wearing a mask came out of nowhere holding a gun, demanding the money bag from the store.

Almost 28 years ago on February 29, 1996, a baby girl was born in what is referred to as a leap year. She became a part of my life when she was about eight months old. That bond has only grown over the years to the point that she could not feel more like my daughter even if she was my biological child.

I’ve been seeing pictures on Facebook of 4-H kids at all the schools in East Carroll doing projects, creating things, and having a great time. I have to admit that I’m a little envious.

The last few weeks have reminded me of how things that seem simple and fun as a child can change and become headaches and complicated as an adult. Suddenly, you begin to understand things your parents were saying that didn’t make a lot of sense when you were a child.