ISSUE #42
Food, Music, Art, Events, Things To Do, Places To Go, Adventures, Local Writers, Humor...And Much More!
n i k c a B e h t ! e l d d a S Sarah Burks and her Tennessee Walker Dobie Gray make a winning combination/6
NEW LASER LIGHT SHOW AT STAR SPANGLED 4TH IN CALHOUN/DETAILS: 5, 29
Publisher: Mitch Talley Publisher’s Boss: Cindy Talley Founder: Robb Newman Founder’s Boss: Thia Newman Distribution: Eddie Ash, O. Myback Issue Graphic Design: Mitch June 19, 2019 Talley, Cray Ola Writers: Mitch Talley, (c) 2019 The Best of Robb Newman, Thia the North Georgia Mountains, Inc. Newman, Lora Bunch, Raland Patterson, Kathi Editorial submissions Hill, Kathi Chastain, encouraged; send to bestofnorthgamountains@ John Shivers, Patricia Kovsky-Dotson, Ted yahoo.com or mail to 312 Smith, Rebecca Strobl, Double Tree Drive SE, Calhoun, GA 30701. Joe Cobb Crawford.
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Back in the Saddle! Sarah Burks finds joy in a Dobie Gray day, riding him to victory in the Tennessee Walking Horse National Celebration When Sarah Burks rode to victory at the Tennessee Walking Horse National Celebration atop Dobie Gray in 2018, all those in the stands saw was a breathtakingly beautiful Tennessee Walker and his rider, blonde and attractive, working together flawlessly as one. That they had won the 3-year-old Amateur World Grand Championship was the main story of the night. But it was only the tip of the iceberg of stories for Sarah, who sat atop her first pony at age 2. A hint to all that Sarah has experienced came in the fall of 2017, in an article in The Walking Horse Report that proclaimed: “She’s baaaack – in the saddle, that is.” The “she” that writer Sadie Fowler alludes to, is Sarah Burks, most recently of Gordon County, out of Alabama, Florida, Tennessee and a lifetime of ups and downs. The Walking Horse Report is one of the two main sources of news within the Tennessee Walking Horse industry and, ironically, is the same publication that Sarah once edited in another life. It was also during this time that she campaigned Senator Delight R & R to Amateur World Grand Championship from Steve Aymett Stables. “I got a second chance to follow my dream,” she says, and adds that we don’t often get opportunities like Dobie Gray at home at Alan Price that. “When you find your Stables in Fairmount. (All photos passion,” she advises, “hold courtesy Sarah Burks) on to it.” She speaks from
By JOHN SHIVERS
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Rider and steed function as a well-oiled partnership.
Paul Walker: “I think my mom put it best. Little girls soften their daddy’s hearts.”
experience. But that, too, is just one of the many stories that make up who she is today, and the wonders that Dobie Gray, admittedly her “heart horse,” is making happen for her. But it hasn’t been a solo journey. There have been many along the journey that have contributed. Some in major ways, some in a minor manner. Some have promoted her, and others have had just the opposite impact. But when viewed from the perspective of a lifetime, all of it has converged to create the Sarah Burks who went to the barn this morning, to work with her horses, as she does every morning. Sarah Burks is hands on with her horses, just as she is with her life. It wasn’t always that way. It was her adoptive father who sat her on that pony when she was only 2 and seeded her love for horses that has never been more pronounced than it is today. Between then and now, Sarah got her own pony at age 5, graduated to a horse at age 8, and at age 13, when most
Nick Price aboard A Classic Action.
From left, Steve Hulsey, Grady Palmer, Nick Price, Sarah Burks and Alan Price with the great young stallion, A Classic Action, at the Tunica, Mississippi Fall Classic in November 2018.
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girls are discovering boys, Sarah discovered the horse show. And when she went back into the show ring in 2017, after a total absence of some 35 years, it was as if she’d never been away. Her father was totally supportive of her endeavors in the horse world. “Every time you get thrown,” he told her, “you become a better rider. You learn what to do and what not to do.” However, there was one exception to his encouragement. She was never allowed to ride jumpers. He was adamant. When she was older, and discovered her biological father’s identity, the “why” behind that question was answered. Horses were in her biological father’s bloodstream as well, and he’d suffered severe injuries in a jumping accident. Thus her adoptive father’s resistance. But just like her birth father’s love for horses, Sarah discovered one other facet that she would also embrace later in life. Her father was an alcoholic. In later years, when her first marriage veered off the track from the beginning, and her beloved adoptive father died, Sarah sought solace in those same addictive substances. Instead of celebrating the good man’s life, she gave in to crippling grief. She turned her back on the passion that had juiced her since toddlerhood. As alcoholism took over her life, she abandoned showing Tennessee Walkers after 20 years showing. She says she abandoned life.
Elaine S. Dalton: "The greatest thing a father can do for his daughter is to love her mother.”
What is a Tennessee Walker?
Victory Pass from the 2019 FAST Spring Showcase in Shelbyville, Tennessee where Sarah and Dobie Gray won the amateur 4-year-old stallion class. “For more than 20 years,” she says, “there wasn’t one sober day.” But that was then, and this is now. Thanks to people who saw strengths in her she no longer recognized, and a special steed, a gray stallion with silver mane and tail who is her soulmate, who understands her, it’s a different story. “He is the happiest horse I’ve ever seen,” she says. Dobie Gray was bought on July 13, 2018, and when they prepared to win the World Grand Champion ribbon after a preliminary world title only a few weeks later, Sarah recalls getting off the horse after a practice session crying like a baby. “It was an amazing spiritual experience. I was overwhelmed with gratitude and joy.” In between, there were two husbands,
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varying job duties, life in the world of alcohol and the wonderful new day of recovery. There were never children and diaper duty, but Sarah laughs as she explains, “I’ve cleaned up tons of horse poop!” When she walked away from horses and the show circuit, Sarah never expected to be back on a horse ever again. She was in an unhappy first marriage, then her father died, and she descended into the hell of grief and the wrong solution to it. She was living in middle Tennessee but no longer lived to ride. She and her ex-husband owned their own business, and she was involved in running it. At times, she was at the helm because of her husband’s disinterest. Finally she got out of the marriage, embraced Alcoholics Anonymous 12-step pro-
The Tennessee Walking Horse, or Tennessee Walker, is a breed of gaited horse known for its unique four-beat running-walk and flashy movement. It was originally developed in the southern United States for use on farms and plantations. It’s a popular riding horse due to its calm disposition, smooth gaits and surefootedness. Typically, Tennessee Walkers weigh between 900 and 1,200 pounds, and stand 14.3 to 17 hands (59 inches to 68 inches) high. These horses can be any color. The Tennessee Walking Horse is often seen in the show ring but is also popular as a pleasure and trail riding horse using both English and Western equipment. Tennessee Walkers are also seen in movies, television shows and other performances.The Lone Ranger’s horse, "Silver," was at times played by a Tennessee Walker. "Trigger Jr.," the successor to the original “Trigger” made famous by Roy Rogers, was played by a Tennessee Walker named Allen's Gold Zephyr. The breed was developed beginning in the late 18th century when Narragansett Pacers and Canadian Pacers from the eastern United States were crossed with gaited Spanish Mustangs from Texas. Other breeds were later added, and in 1886 a foal named Black Allan was born. He is now considered the foundation sire of the breed. In 1935 the Tennessee Walking Horse Breeders' Association was formed, and it closed the studbook in 1947. The first Tennessee Walking Horse National Celebration was held 80 years ago in Shelbyville, Tennessee in 1939.
Bindi Irwin: “Dad is and always will be my living, breathing superhero."
gram and into recovery, after meeting Albert Burks. It’s the greatest love story in her life, greater even than the current love of her life, Dobie Gray. After several years in south Florida, she and Albert moved to east Tennessee, where they were to spend the final year of their 13 amazing years together. “He gave me hope when I was totally hopeless. Albert was three and a half years into recovery before we met and he showed me how to help others find hope.” Then Albert died, and her life changed again. This time, however, thanks to now 15 years of sobriety, she was able to weather that change. But even greater things were on the horizon. During all the years she’d wandered in a desert devoid of horses, Sarah kept her friendship with various friends who were still in the business. One of those friends, Molly Walker, had attended Albert’s celebration of life. In the days that followed, Sarah explained that she regretted she’d never seen her friend’s world champion mare, A Beeline, in the arena. Turned out the horse was scheduled to show soon after, and Sarah was in the stands. But there was more than one highlight to that evening, besides the reserve world title her friend took home. Molly also introduced her to a man named Alan Price who, with his son, Nick, owned Alan Price Stables in Fairmount, Georgia. Sarah had never heard of the small town on the eastern edge of Gordon County, but it was to figure prominently in
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Unknown: “A daughter may outgrow your lap, but she will never outgrow your heart.”
Sarah with her heart horse, Dobie Gray.
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her future. “That’s never going to happen,” she said to Alan, who knew her history in the horse world, when he said, “I want to be the one to put you back in the show ring.” Famous last words. Sarah thought there was no way she would return to the horse world she’d once loved as much as life itself. Then Albert interceded. About three months after his death, Sarah was driving his customized Chevrolet Corvette, and within the roar of the engine, she heard her late husband’s voice. “Honey, you’ve done everything that you need to do. Now, it’s time to do something you love.” That’s when she decided that horses would be a part of celebrating his life rather than mourning his death. Alan Price had stoked a long-banked fire within her, and in only a matter of weeks, she was the owner of four horses and was back in the show ring exactly 20 days after purchasing the first one – and back in the winner's circle. But her horses were in Fairmount, with Alan and Nick, who train them. She gives Nick the full credit for getting Dobie Gray ready to win the World Grand Championship only about six weeks after she acquired him. Her home had been in Knoxville, Tennessee, with a second home in Townsend, Tennessee, too far away from her precious charges. Something else had to change. Sarah sold out in Tennessee and made the move in the spring of 2018,
Sidney Poitier: “I decided in my life that I would do nothing that did not reflect positively on my father's life.”
and says it’s one of the best things she’s ever done. What’s more, she believes that Albert is staunchly behind her, happy about what she’s doing and cheering her on. Fast-forward to 2019, and she’s now living on the west side of Fairmount, only about 15 minutes from the 21 horses she currently owns. “That number fluctuates,” she says with a laugh, explaining that they buy and sell from time to time. Down the road they hope to establish a breeding stable, but that’s another plan for another day. In addition to Alan and Nick, about whom she can’t say enough good things, there’s Grady Palmer, Steve Hulsey at the barn, and Upper right. Nick Price riding his brilliant protégé, World Grand Champion Dobie Gray. Lower right, World Grand Championship victory pass from the 2018 Tennessee Walking Horse National Celebration. The announcer said, “Walking out of the roses but right down victory lane, as the floral horseshoe broke and hit the ground." Below, Alan Price, left, Sarah Burks, third from left, Nick Price, Jarrett Ellis, and Grady Palmer receive one of two “Horse of the Year” awards from the Walking Horse Trainers Association at the organization’s annual banquet. Jackson Latham, second from left, presents the award.
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Kid Rock: “Being a father helps me be more responsible... you see more things than you've ever seen.”
Sarah Burks with World Grand Champion Dobie Gray and Nick Price and Alan Price.
Sarah receives a victory hug from Alan Price.
Jarrett Ellis, who is another part of their team. Still other members of the big team include top contenders such as Thanks for Cash, He’s Shady in Black, The Royal Dollar, A Cowboy Casanova, Pale Horse Coming, The Iron Door, A Classic Action, Molly Lou Melon, I’m Chief Charlie, and of course, Dobie Gray. Together, they’re all a class act, and there are almost 40 blue ribbons that bear witness. Twenty of those ribbons were won by Sarah herself. There were more than 25 high point and reader’s choice titles, plus two prestigious Horse of the Year titles awarded by the Walking Horse Trainers Association. “It was a phenomenal first year back, and we strive to make 2019 even better,” Burks says. “I can’t say enough good things about our team. None of what I do in the ring could happen without the teamwork of all these guys.” There used to be a saying in the Walking Horse industry that opined,
“Ride one (a Tennessee Walker) today, and you’ll own one tomorrow.” Sarah Burks could be the poster child for this philosophy. “Anything you love becomes a part of you,” she says. That’s how it’s been with her return to the horse world, and with her beloved Dobie Gray. His pedigree reveals that his sire The Perfect Hawk and his dam, Doll in Parole, were both rich in the lineage of the 1981 World Grand Champion, The Pusher. Although Dobie Gray was born black, he soon began to turn gray, as has been the case with many Perfect Hawk offspring. “I’m guessing that’s why he got the name Dobie Gray, and to me it’s perfect, since he makes such beautiful music in the show ring,” Sarah says. And when you look at Sarah Burks atop Dobie Gray, you get it. They love each other and what they do. Together, life is good, when every day is a gray day.
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William Shakespeare: “It is a wise father that knows his own child.”
By Patricia Kovsky-Dotson
A real 'Southern Bell' My mama had to go to work at a young age after her father died in a mine accident at Tennessee Copper Company. That tragedy led to a long career as a switchboard operator for the phone company.
As hard as it is to believe, a young woman could have a job in the early 1920s. My Mama, then Edith Smith, made a mark for herself when she was forced into work, barely out of her teens. You see, the reason was that her father was killed in a mining accident at the Tennessee Copper Company when she was only 16. This terrible situation left a mother and a family of seven children to be raised in the day of no extra income for a widow or children. Mama was the oldest child, and the only boy was next in age, putting them in line to find a job to help support this family. The Masons of the town, of which their father was a leader, offered to put the children in a home, but as it happened, Mama was past the age, and her mother wanted to keep the family together. So, Mama went to work! Ducktown, Tennessee was a small
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Above right, a family photo of my mother, Edith Smith Holden, has been pasted on the bottom of the cover of Southern Telephone News for June 1930. The same photo of Mrs. Holden is at lower left. Upper left is a vintage photo of telephone operators at work. Lower right is an early telephone work truck.
John Wooden: “The most important thing in the world is family and love.�
undeveloped mining town with a few stores, a bank and unpaved streets. What really mattered at the time, the Southern Bell Telephone Co. had begun to string phone lines on gigantic poles across the area. They had a small switchboard in the town which in time would connect people to their friends and neighbors. Not really knowing the details, Mama got a job with them and they taught her how to be a telephone operator, a real Southern Bell. Her career began in Ducktown, but she was later transferred to a much larger switchboard in nearby Copperhill, Tennessee. In time, this became a very large operation with numbers of operators manning three shifts. It did not take her long to become Chief Operator, as she called it, and her duties were to manage the office and teach new operators how to become “Central.” If you have ever seen one of these massive switchboards, you are in awe of the many wires, plugs, lights and gadgets they had to operate. In the picture you will get a glimpse of how you could talk to someone, and imagine all of the voices going out through the lines on the poles which carried you to another phone. The picture is from the 1930 edition of the magazine, Southern Bell News, and to my delight, Mama had saved this copy. Look at Mama in the small picture, and you could almost believe that the magazine picture is of her because of the hairstyle, dress and her size. Well, why not use your imagination? This story is not technical about the first phones in the area, but only what Mama had said and what I had experienced in seeing the changes in phones as I grew up. Now, back to that great big switchboard where phone connections
were made. The few families who had phones and that of businesses and the Company, could pick up their phone and hear “Central” say, “Number, please.” I thought I should have been the one to say “please” in asking her to connect me to another number. She would pick up a lighted wire from the desk of the board (which was the caller), and on the upright board in front of her, plug it into whomever you were calling. If the call did not make the connection, she would say, “This li-on is busy,” meaning to hang up and try again later. When the light went out, she would disconnect the plug. These operators were known by the customers, and most times their voices were recognized when they answered. In most cases in this small town, they knew the families. Mama's sister was also an operator and sometimes Mama could speak to her at work until she had to say “Number, Please.” An example of this was when my nephew was just a little guy, he would pick up the phone and say, “I want to speak to my Pop.” Automatically, the operator would connect to the Company switchboard, where he would again say, “I want to speak to my Pop.” She would then ring his office and would then be connected to his Pop! Oh, what a mystery in those early years. Southern Bell Telephone trucks could be seen all over the area about every day, as they were making improvements, correcting trouble, and certainly replacing wire damage due to winds and storms. If your phone did not work for any reason, you went to another phone to report that number out of order,
and most times had to wait several days for repairs. The earlier trucks looked like a model of a van with open sides, back and top for easy access, and they were always full of large rolls of wire. They then, through time, became more modern and like regular pickup trucks. They could always be recognized by their olive green color and of course, Southern Bell Telephone Company on the side. These guys worked full time at their base equipment station and on the poles. They could be identified by the massive amount of equipment around their waist which always included a telephone to call into “Central” to see if everything was okay on the repaired line. Even though the company was working well and expanding, not all homes around the area could have telephones. Those outside of town were for the most part either too far out or too far apart to make it feasible to string lines to outlying homes. I can remember, as late as the 1950s or ‘60s, that country homes were still awaiting phone service. Now that we have a picture of the set up at the telephone company, what about the set up in the early homes? I remember the first huge wall phone I ever saw, was at my grandmother's house in Ducktown. It was long and surrounded with maple wood. In front was the black mouth piece and on the side was the hook and ear piece where you could hear “Central” answer you. But first, you must ring a knob on the side to make connection to the switchboard. As I grew up, more modern desk phones became available, The first I remember at home was the typical black phone with a cradle to hold the one-piece receiver you placed to your ear and mouth. Mama being a Southern Bell, always had a telephone at home when other folks around
did not. Our first number was under a protective cover on the base and read 35-W! Numbers began with low digits and came on up. When we moved, our number was 214-W, then later changed to just 2l4, private line. Through time, the style of phones began to change, along with the numbers. Finally, the system grew so large that you shared a “line” with another “party.” Well, of course, you were on a party line, which meant the other folks might be on the phone gossiping when you needed to make an important call. What stress to wait, until sometimes they were asked to hang up a few minutes until you made your call. They did, for that was how it was done back then. You had to wait for your number of rings before you answered. As I remember, after the wall phone, there came the table phone with a tall round piece between the base and the mouth piece. The ear connection was still hanging on the side of the phone. The first phones were quite heavy, but as the styles changed, so did the weight. During this telephone operator system, the looks of phones changed as they learned more technology. Then came the dial system. Everyone thought this was a useless thing for you had to take time to dial your own number from the base of the phone. They added a prefix to your new phone number, and you had to dial that before your actual number. What a change! Not only was this a change for the customer, a very large number of switchboard operators were now out of a job. No more “Number, please.” I was working by then, and my boss told me he had figured out that you did not have to dial the full prefix, but only the last numbers. I told
him it would not work, but it did! What a relief for a busy business desk Well, Mama got another chance! In the 1940s, when TVA was constructing another dam near the power house on the river road, they like mine! Everybody was catching on to this shortcut. This lasted for a while, until we began to hear of area codes. What employed my Mama as their telephone operator. They needed phone connections between workers in different areas while building Ocoee value in the world could this be? If you didn't know the number, all Dam #3. you had to do was to ask the operator who would tell you local or long I was in high school and remember that she had a ride down the river distance what to dial. Now, not only did you have to deal with the threeand back each shift. She was able to learn about the power house number prefix, but they added another set for the area code! Little did folks know, that you could dial your own long distance without operation for her office was inside it. They let her ride the tram up the mountain and across the floom line. Now, this was a Southern Bell at the operator! In the past, operators would connect you work, and she certainly was “Central.” In time, the company name changed to Bell As Mama got older, she had difficulty to the town and state you were calling, they South, and Mama had a fit! It had always been hearing the phone ring and what the caller would give you the number or connect you. Southern Bell, so why in the world did they How convenient! At first, customers did not was saying. To remedy this, I got her a understand that the area codes must be used have to change it? At Mama's death, we found phone set with a loud ring and an amplifor calling different areas of the country. fier for the receiver. This was amazing to stacks and stacks of our phone books she had We soon learned, and time marched on! her, but the real amazement was that its kept through the years. This was a system she color was green and not the Southern Bell Mama did not remain a “Central” all of the knew and had in her blood, and this was her above mentioned years. As was the custom black! attachment. in the old days, when a lady married, she no Times have changed. Mama is gone, longer worked, but stayed home as a homebut Mama and old phone systems remain maker. Mama did this, but she was always connected in some way to as history in our memory. Needless to say, times have changed to cell Southern Bell. phones and computers with not only “talking” but “texting,” along with In time, the company name changed to Bell South, and Mama had many versions of each. a fit! It had always been Southern Bell, so why in the world did they But most of all there are no local operators but just towers scattered have to change it? At Mama's death, we found stacks and stacks of our around. I don't think Mama would have ever gone for this, or for that phone books she had kept through the years. This was a system she matter, even believed it, especially since it is not all still called Southern knew and had in her blood, and this was her attachment. Bell!
Heat, fireworks, and picnics all led to a bang-up 4th of July Along with fireworks, there was the obligatory 4th of July picnic that one had to attend as a kid, the one where Uncle Marv thought it was a barrel of laughs to throw lit firecrackers at the children and dogs, creating a cacophony of screaming kids and howling mutts. Well, the 4th of July is right around the corner. I can tell because around the corner from my house I just heard a loud bang followed by a scream. Another way that I know the 4th is near is because it is so hot that my dog turns the fan onto herself every time I leave the room for a moment to refill my ice cream cone. It is this time of the year when folks of my generation reminisce about how it was much hotter when we were kids. But I believe the truth is it just seemed hotter because air conditioning had not yet been invented. All we had back then to cool the house were those fans with three black steel blades covered by a black steel cage which we kids were constantly trying to stick our fingers through to "see what will happen." That's why so many of my peers now must scratch their nose with their pinkie. One nice thing about the black fans was that they matched the black phones and the black '50 Ford coupes every family in the neighborhood seemed to have. The 4th of July always brings back fond childhood memories of neardisasters involving sparkler sword fights and firecrackers blowing tin cans sky high just as I bent over them to check the fuse. One difference between celebrating the 4th then and now is the easy access to purchasing fireworks available to kids today. Where I grew up, the fireworks stands were set up in a clandestine location a short drive outside the city limits. Customers wore those phony nose and glasses to avoid being identified since the legality of the whole setup was highly questionable. Another difference is the variety of fireworks. Back then, firecracker shoppers had basically six choices: lady fingers, black cats, cherry bombs, M-80s, and silver salutes – and sparklers and snakes for the less adventurous. You know, the smart kids who now as seniors have much better hearing than the rest of us. Today kids have an endless selection of fireworks to pick from with much more descriptive names such as Airotica, Heartstoppers, Molten Fury, and my favorite, Baby Boomers.
Along with fireworks, there was the obligatory 4th of July picnic that one had to attend as a kid, the one where Uncle Marv thought it was a barrel of laughs to throw lit firecrackers at the children and dogs creating a cacophony of screaming kids and howling mutts. Thankfully, Grandma would put a sudden end to the insanity by bopping Marv over the head with her umbrella. The allure of picnics has always escaped me. Even as a kid, I wasn't sure why people looked forward to bellying up to a picnic table where you spent half of your time trying to hang onto napkins, paper plates, and potato chips to keep them from flying away on the sweltering hot breeze, and the rest of the time combating flies, bees, and an army of ants which magically emerged just at the moment someone sliced open the watermelon. Naturally, you had to have a watermelon. Otherwise, you wouldn't end up with 20 people sitting around with juice stains soaking the front of their shirts and a few of those black watermelon seeds stuck to their chins. As a kid, I was always leery of the seeds, wondering if I accidentally swallowed one would an ugly creature form inside me and pop out of my stomach, sort of like in the modern film Alien. Then there was the omnipresent giant, mutant fly that attempted to fly into your mouth with each bite of corn. Yep, you just couldn't have a picnic without corn on the cob, the only vegetable which, when you're done eating, half of it is still lodged in between your teeth, so that when you smile you look like you just stepped off the set of "Hee-Haw." While waiting as the food was prepared, we kids would play with a Frisbee which no one could throw correctly, and no one could catch so we just ran around aimlessly for 10 minutes until the Frisbee mercifully got stuck high up in a tree. That led to killing more time throwing rocks, sticks, and empty bottles at the stuck Frisbee, with every kid apparently thinking he is the reincarnation of Johnny Unitas. That lasted for another 10 minutes until ending abruptly when Uncle Marv threw a large firecracker in a futile attempt to blow the Frisbee out of the tree. Since the Frisbee was no longer available, someone would spontaneously organize a volleyball game among all the folks which goes well for a time – until some young stud teenager rockets a spike directly into the face of cousin Matilda who was just an innocent bystander sipping on her iced tea and listening to her newfangled transistor radio which is now lying on the ground in two pieces right beside cousin Matilda who is out cold. All in all, I would say that every year my number one 4th of July goal as a kid was to survive until the 5th of July.
By MICHAEL MURPHY
The land below the red, We forgot we were Democrats or Republicans with differences, and instead collectively shouted, "This is OUR country, OUR flag, and we will defend it!" We ran outside to raise the red, white, and blue above our porches and in our yards because we who mourned were all Americans. When I pass an American flag with those familiar stars and stripes flying above me, I momentarily forget the news of the day, the political rhetoric, and the state of our divisiveness. Instead, there is a swelling of pride and a reminder of how fortunate I am to have been born in the land below the flag. I should fly the banner above my television to keep me from shouting obscenities at the screen when the news makes it seem there is nothing good to report about our country. Perhaps I should paint my walls with stars and stripes to calm me down after listening to the politicians rant and spread hatred. Yes, I need the flag. When the red, white, and blue drapes a soldier's coffin, my heart mourns for the many who have suffered and died to keep our banner billowing over a free land. When the flag is hoisted above a school, or over a library, or atop a government building, I remind myself of the privileges that enable all Americans to go to school, read any book we choose and to freely elect or reject our leaders. The American flag flying at half-mast brings tears to my eyes because it symbolizes a loss or a tragedy which has brought our citizens to their collective knees. Our flag is a symbol of our hope, unification, spirit, and glory. To gain our independence was a task deemed improbable by many of our ancestors in the early 1700s. Courage, intelligence, and conviction turned an unlikelihood into the United States of America. From 1776 until today, we have defended the right to stay united and free.
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and blue
In 2001 when terrorists attacked our nation, we watched an atrocity which caused our citizens to unite in grief and prayer. We forgot we were Democrats or Republicans with differences, and instead collectively shouted, "This is OUR country, OUR flag, and we will defend it!" We ran outside to raise the red, white, and blue above our porches and in our yards because we who mourned were all Americans. When we argue over guns, immigration, taxes, health care, or over which candidate is the best, we must pause for a moment and be grateful we can debate, disagree, and sometimes behave like morons because we are free to open our mouths. When we attend church and gather around a Sunday School water cooler to discuss what is wrong with our country, why not stop to give thanks to God for placing us in a land where we can freely worship, freely sing of glory, and openly praise God and not a dictator. This July 4th, while the grill is heating and the watermelon is chilling, why not pause for a moment to rejoice that we have food to eat, and most of our children know no hunger. While the kids swim under the sun and play among the shade trees, let’s remind ourselves of the children in other countries who walk miles to escape violence and those who will perish along the way. If we cut our finger while slicing watermelon, let’s stop and remember we will probably not die because a “Doc in the Box” is within a mile and available when we do dumb things like slice our finger. We do not need to travel for miles searching for help. As the fireworks explode into the night sky and cascade to the ground in vibrant colors, let’s pause to honor the soldier who hears bombs explode on a battlefield, witnesses his comrades fall, and does so to ensure we may continue celebrating our Independence Day. I wish I could bring folks around our country together for one big July 4th picnic. I would ask all of America to join hands and give thanks to God for this great country we all call home and pray the red, white, and blue continues to wave proudly above our land.
By LYNN GENDUSA
Joseph Addison: “Certain is it that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter.”
LASER LIGHTS A SHOW STOPPER AT CALHOUN 4TH OF JULY CELEBRATION Get ready for a new and exciting twist to the annual Star Spangled Celebration on the Fourth of July in Calhoun! Thanks to the generosity of Santek, a laser light show being produced by Peachtree Laser out of Atlanta will be featured this year. "I have been wanting to add this component to the Star Spangled Celebration for the past three years," says Bud Owens, organizer of the festivities, "and was finally able to work out a sponsorship from Santek. They are covering the cost of the entire laser show for the community to enjoy. We are delighted they agreed to help with this community event. I think the community will love this, but they will have to enter the venue to get the full effects of the fireworks show and to enjoy the laser show." Owens said the entertainment lineup on the Mohawk Stage is great again this year, with returning performers Tommy Ray Gurley and his 50s hits and Babes Bayou with their local following and the country songs that make them so enjoyable to hear. Nashville up and comer Jess Kellie Adams and her band is sure to be a hit with the crowd, Owens said, and the Battlefield Building Supply Stage will feature illusion shows by Mike Frisbee throughout the evening, country artist Jacob White, and Expressions Dancers. Mohawk is the presenting sponsor of the Star Spangled Celebration, and Santek is sponsoring the laser show. Owens said they appreciate
the generosity of these two companies as they help area residents celebrate our nation's birthday in grand style. With a long history of show-stopping performances around the world, Peachtree Laser utilizes state of the art equipment that allows them to provide a complete and professional presentation. This includes the latest and most advanced graphics generation and show control systems. Before founding Peachtree Laser in 1985, Jim Martin worked for Science Faction at the 1982 World's Fair in Knoxville, Tenn., and was general manager of Showlasers, Inc. Staff member Greg Hughes worked with Bishop Planetarium in Bradenton, Fla., producing and presenting weekly shows from 1981 through 1995, after which he performed shows internationally in South Korea and Saudi Arabia and then joined Peachtree Laser in 1998. Clients of Peachtree Laser include Delta Air Lines, Atlanta Hawks, Control Data, AT&T, and many other Fortune 500 companies. Performances include the Crown Prince’s wedding party in Abu Dhabi, and over 350 televised shows for World Championship Wrestling. The company also installed, programmed and maintained the Laser Billboard™ at Atlanta HartsfieId International Airport. This billboard combined slides and laser graphics, and ran 16 hours a day for six years.
Michael Ratnadeepak: “No one in this world can love a girl more than her father.”
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An interview with a novelist...
GEORGE WEINSTEIN
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George Weinstein is a man with a wide range of diverse talents. He is a novelist, a speaker, and a volunteer with the Atlanta Writers Club. He is a leader and a visionary who brings forth many positive life attributes in his works. He crosses into many genres with his novels. It seems that there are no limits and boundaries that he likes to stay
By LORA BUNCH within, and perhaps that is what initially drew me to him as a person and his works. I like people who refuse to be contained, and this author definitely knows how to get outside of the box. I hope you will enjoy getting to know more about him as much as I have. What does being creative mean to you? To me, being creative means creating something that didn’t exist before. This entails any kind of art and performance, of course, but also includes the more mundane acts of
'Writing was always at the heart of the schoolwork where I excelled, I courted my wife-to-be with handwritten love letters, and whenever I hear a good tale, I think about the ways in which I could turn it into a novel.'
-GEORGE WEINSTEIN
Wendell Phillips: “To be as good as our fathers we must be better, imitation is not discipleship.”
writing an email that requires decisions about word choice, making a presentation to a client, and every other action that requires us to invent an object or moment where none had existed previously. Do you remember the first piece you wrote? When I was 6 years old, I began writing plays for my stuffed animals to act out atop my bed, to entertain my brother and sister. Nobody suggested I do this, and I had no access to scripts, so I just figured out what I had to put on the page for dialog, action, and voiceover narration to occur. I can’t remember the first play I wrote, but my favorite stuffed animals, Marty Monkey and Little Kong, were undoubtedly the leads, and the plot was probably inspired by a comic book. Do you remember when you realized that creating and writing was a need for you? From that moment at 6 years old, when I started writing and performing those plays, I knew this is what entertained and inspired me. History has demonstrated that my brain is wired to tell stories and convey thoughts and emotions, largely through writing. Writing was always at the heart of the schoolwork where I excelled, I courted my wife-to-be with handwritten love letters, and whenever I hear a good tale, I think about the ways in which I could turn it into a novel. What kind of creative routines or rituals do you have? I tend to write in the morning and edit in the afternoon, but I can be creative any time of day or night if I’m on a deadline from my publisher. I like writing on my laptop at my home-built standing desk (sturdy cardboard boxes placed on a regular desk), but I can write sitting down as well. I do have to write in silence; I get too distracted if there’s music or news on in the house. So, my only hard-and-fast rule is that I never try to write or even edit in public—you won’t ever find me at a coffee shop working on my novel. If you could do a reading anywhere then where would it be? Actually, I hate readings, so I don’t do them. Having sat through too many of them, there’s nothing more boring than sitting somewhere watching somebody read their book to me. The visuals aren’t interesting, and most people’s reading voices are tedious. When invited to do a reading, instead I talk about writing those plays at 6 and how my writing journey has progressed since then. If compelled to read something, I have a single, double-spaced page I’ll read, an excerpt from my mystery novel Aftermath, where the character of a famous writer talks about why good writing is like doing magic. What is your favorite creation of yours? Sorry, that’s like the “who’s your favorite child” question. Each of my novels is special, because each was a first for me. The Five Destinies of Carlos Moreno—based on forgotten U.S. history of the 1928-1941 deportation of two million people of Mexican heritage, a million or more of whom were actually American citizens or legal residents—was my first novel, so that was a huge milestone. Hardscrabble Road—Southern historical fiction—was based on my father-in-law’s childhood and inspired by 10 years of stories he told and interviews I did with him. The Caretaker—about a ballerina who has to reinvent herself after a car wreck while simultaneously rewriting the rules of her marriage—was my first novel with a female protagonist and first contemporary, romantic story. Aftermath—a Southern mystery about a woman who returns to the tiny Georgia town of her birth to unravel her estranged father’s murder—was my first mystery. My next novel, which will come out in the fall of 2019,
title TBD (the publisher is considering options), is my first suspense/ thriller; in it, a web radio interviewer must save the life of her kidnapped husband. Who is your biggest writer inspiration? Alan Dean Foster’s Icerigger, which I purchased with my allowance money at a Dart Drug when I was 8, sold me on the magic of novels. No book before then had so thoroughly transported me to an unfamiliar place, populated with strange characters who became more real to me than many actual people. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one captivated by that book: George Lucas read it and asked Foster to ghostwrite the novelization of Star Wars. Decades passed before I could realize my dream of becoming a full-time writer, but that’s what I am today, thanks, in part, to the talent of Alan Dean Foster. Where can we find your books? They’re available on the shelf at, or can be ordered by, any bookstore. For those who prefer ordering paperback or ebooks from Amazon, here is the link to my author page: https://www.amazon.com/George-Weinstein/e/B00J60UPGE/ What do you see in the future for yourself? Bouncing among genres as I usually do, I’m currently researching a novel set sometime between 1780 and 1820, when the U.S. was new and changing rapidly, Spain still owned Florida, and pirates menaced the Caribbean. Do you have another job? No, I’m a full-time writer and also full-time volunteer for the Atlanta Writers Club, helping others achieve their writing goals and occasionally making their dreams come true through the twice-yearly Atlanta Writers Conference I’ve directed for 10 years. What is something you would like to pursue but haven’t? I have an unpublished sci-fi novel I’d like to rewrite and another sci-fi novel I’d abandoned that still calls to me. What are three things (not people) that you cannot live without? Having books, dogs, and the means to write are essential in my life.
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What hobbies do you have outside of writing? The aforementioned Atlanta Writers Club and the Atlanta Writers Conference are essential hobbies of mine, and I enjoy working out at the gym and playing tennis. Are you a music lover and what are the top songs on your playlist right now? As a child of the 1970s and 1980s, the music of Bruce Springsteen (especially “Thunder Road” and “Jungleland”) and Queen (“Bohemian Rhapsody” and “Crazy Little Thing Called Love”—which was the first 45 RPM record I ever bought) calls to me. What advice would you give to beginning writers? In Aftermath, one of my major characters is David, a bestselling author who served as my mouthpiece for giving advice to aspiring writers, including my heroine, Janet. David makes the case that writing well is like doing magic: taking this completely invented, fake thing called language and using it to make a reader feel genuine, real emotions. Next to walking around in other people’s skins (i.e., imagining the world through my characters’ eyes), doing this magic trick is my favorite part of the writing process. David then advises Janet—and all aspiring writers—that to learn how to do this magic trick, she needs to study the magicians. Thus, whenever you’re reading a passage that makes you feel one of the basic, deep-down emotions—mad, sad, glad, or scared—STOP! The magician has just done the trick. Go back and figure out how the combination of word choice, character, situation, setting, mood, tone, etc. combined to make you actually feel something real when all you were doing was sitting around looking at some made-up symbols on a page or screen. Then make that trick your own through practice, just as magicians do. What book are you reading now? The New Iberia Blues by James Lee Burke in audiobook format and Barry Unsworth’s Sacred Hunger in paperback. Name one entity that has encouraged and supported you outside of family and friends. It has to be the Atlanta Writers Club (AWC), which was founded in
Al Unser: "Dad taught me everything I know. Unfortunately, he didn't teach me everything he knows.”
1914 and I had the honor of revitalizing nearly 20 years ago. I’ve put thousands of hours of effort into the AWC and the Atlanta Writers Conference I run because the organization has paid me back in so many ways. All of my best friends are writers I’ve met because of my involvement in the AWC. What have you learned from writing your books? I’ve learned that readers, not other writers, are the ones whose opinions matter most about one’s writing. I never expected to derive so much pleasure, and learn so much about writing, from talking to readers about my work and books in general. Yes, there is a measure of egotism involved, and I had to develop a thick skin because not everyone loves everything I’ve written, but I also learned more about writing by talking to readers over the past decade than I have during more than 40 years of classes, books about writing, workshops, conferences, and critique groups. Writers can get so hung up on technicalities that readers don’t care about or even notice, from punctuation to points of view. However, most readers only care about the three most elemental things: characters, story, and use of language. Sometimes when I address a book club, I’ll ask them whether the novel of mine they just read was written in first-, second-, or third-person and whether it was in past-, present-, or future-tense. Often, I must define these terms for them, and nearly all of the time no one can say for certain without opening the book to check. Most authors, though, have heard writing friends say something
like, “I decided to rewrite my book in first-person (or in present-tense)” and maybe we’ve embarked on such a rewrite ourselves at some point. I think writers do this because they sense something is wrong with their story and/or characters, but they don’t know how to fix those problems, so they hope the story will improve automatically because of some feeling of immediacy allegedly conveyed by a change in pronouns or verbs. Readers will tell us otherwise, by pointing out that they didn’t engage with the protagonist or the plot didn’t grab them or there was nothing memorable about the writing style. They can’t fix the writer’s problem— usually they can’t even say exactly why they didn’t connect with the book—but if more than a scant handful reply that the book just didn’t work for them, the writer would be well-advised to heed that caution and fix whatever problems exist before the book goes out into the world. If you would like to know more about George Weinstein and his plethora of books a quick google and amazon visit will open up the doors for you. You will be more than glad you took the time to see what this author is writing and speaking about. He can be found on most social media sites which offer you more insight on him as well. I would like to tell you about my favorite work of his but there are too many great ones for me to choose just one. I will tell you that no matter which one you choose you will not be disappointed and will be coming back for more.
William Shakespeare: “When a father gives to his son, both laugh; when a son gives to his father, both cry.”
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You are not alone here, we are each other’s hands, everyone we touch in life, is for us to understand. Sometimes we look outside, we seek without delight, in great times of true weakness, we reach out to be held tight. Let your arms be nourishment, have a shoulder which one can lean, don’t mistake yourself as a no one, we’re not born as cold machines. Show your soft side, be a light, show up and don’t be dim, everything earth needs right now is Love, which Always Wins. -SARA WINICK-HERRINGTON
Sometimes I’m lost and I feel so all alone, it’s not that I don’t have loved ones to help me carry on. You see it’s because a part of me faded and went away with you … A big part of me is in HEAVEN with both my MOM and DAD too. I know you guys are looking down upon me … But sometimes I feel that’s not enough and wish you guys were here with me instead. I know I’m being selfish and I’m so sorry you see… I really wished I could get back that big part of me. If only there were stairway to climb, phones to call on or even a mailbox in heaven. Oh how HAPPY I would be … GOD would be making me leave!!!! But for now I have to settle fore good dreams I have of you and the comfort in knowing you guys are near!!! Love y’all always and forever and never forgotten. Love your oldest daughter Corey (Jimenez)
Coffee Shop Escape Sitting in Starbucks as cliche as it sounds People watching while the wheels in my head turn
Words spoken… With wreckless And raw abandonment. Sear the wounded myriad Of my soul… My heart screams a sad melody… As I watch the crashing waves Of the shimmering ocean As it suddenly but softly Pulls those angry words slowly… But surely out to sea I can now breathe…. - CHELLE LANCE
This one wants a latte and that one orders coffee black These people are as different as the their caffeine fixes yet somehow the same I’m just trying to fade away into the background and let the busy morning consume my thoughts Apparently watching them calms the chaos in me I feel less scattered knowing they are just as bewildered with life as I am I sit back and take a sip of my white hot cocoa and once again feel the peace through the irony around me -LORA BUNCH
CORNER
POETRY
By Ted Smith Marion T. "Ted" Smith is the author of a new book, “Life in the Park: A Novel.” It is available on Amazon and at Barnes & Noble.
The Cody-McGregor case
On Saturday morning, October 12, 1889, Major Charles E. McGregor of Warrenton, Georgia, a noted local politician, was standing on the northeast corner of the courthouse square, near where Citizens Bank stands today. He had a .38 caliber Smith & Wesson pistol in his back pocket. Shortly before 9 a.m. a buggy came into town driven by Jim English, a respected veteran of the Civil War. Sitting beside him was James Madison Wellborn Cody, a member of an old Warren County family and for many years one of its most prosperous merchants. Jim English stopped the buggy in front of C. W. Pilcher and Co., a store across a narrow side street from the bank site. A few moments later, Major McGregor, before scores of witnesses, killed James Cody with three shots. The murder plunged Warren County into shock and scandal. Cody had shot McGregor two years before, and McGregor said he shot Cody because he constantly feared for his life at the hands of his insane would-be assassin. Cody's friends said McGregor's real motive was to keep Cody from revealing, under oath, certain unsavory activities involving McGregor and a local widow of considerable wealth, activities that had led Cody, her first cousin and self-appointed protector, to attempt the major's murder. And if the high reputation of the two men, and the widow, and the titillating motives were
not enough to make the case notorious, McGregor's acquittal of murder in a trial by jury in April 1890 insured that the incident would forever remain a most interesting and unusual chapter in Warren County history. According to newspaper accounts, McGregor, a square jawed man with dark hair and a long, full mustache, came to Warren County from Virginia after the Civil War. He was a distinguished veteran who served under Gen. Joseph E. Johnson at Manassas in 1861. He received a field promotion from sergeant to major and, after the war, a promotion to colonel. His first mention in county historical records is in 1875, when he purchased The Warrenton Clipper, the local newspaper. Later, he married Mary Lou Roberts, daughter of a wealthy family, and lived in a large house a block off Main Street on what later became known as McGregor Square. James Cody was fair haired, had a narrow, oval shaped face, and wore a full mustache and beard. He was the grandson of Michael Cody, a Revolutionary War hero and pioneer resident of the county. Michael Cody's plantation five miles east of town was a parcel of more than 2,000 acres. James Cody, at 19, enlisted in the Warrenton Infantry as a private; and the unit was called up two years later on March 9, 1862. After the war, he opened a large mercantile business in Warrenton and had accumulated more than $30,000 in prop-
erty at the time of his death. The enmity between the two men, by Cody's admission, began in 1885 over remarks McGregor made about Cody and his cousin, a young, wealthy and attractive widow named Lou Derrelle DuBose. Born Lou Derrelle Wellborn in 1848, she was the widow of Charles S. DuBose, a promising young Warrenton attorney who died suddenly in 1881 of consumption, and the daughter of Amanda Cody Wellborn, James Cody's aunt. After the death of her husband, Cody became a frequent companion of Mrs. DuBose, helping her with her estate. Cody and Mrs. DuBose's relationship came close to scandal, according to statements made in defense of McGregor at his trial. Cody, in a written statement that was too racy for the newspapers of the day to publish, said McGregor made lewd and obscene remarks about Cody and Mrs. DuBose. McGregor said, since Cody had secured the widow's affections, he would do likewise. McGregor then joined the church choir, of which Mrs. DuBose was a member. The choir met at her home. The relationship between Mrs. DuBose and McGregor began to cause gossip in Warrenton in 1887. According to Cody's statement, unnamed witnesses had found the two in compromising situations. He spoke to both of them and urged them to break off their relationship. McGregor declined.
Johann Schiller: “It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.”
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Mrs. DuBose, Cody said, wished to break with McGregor, but feared him. The situation became acute Friday, December 23, 1887, when Cody returned home to find his wife in tears. She told him that Mrs. McGregor came to her crying and afraid that McGregor's affair with the widow would ruin both the McGregor and Cody families. Cody, taking a derringer with him, left immediately for McGregor's house, one block east of the courthouse. There he waited in the bushes until McGregor returned from a lodge meeting. As McGregor entered his gate, Cody, hidden in the shadows, shot him once. The bullet pierced McGregor's side and exited his back, but miraculously missed any organs. Within two hours, after receiving morphine for pain, McGregor was actually able to sit up and describe the incident. Cody was not a suspect, but when authorities accused a black man of the crime, Cody went to McGregor. "Mc, you know what I shot you about," he said to McGregor. "It won't do for this thing to get out. If it is known that I shot you, without the reasons for it being known, it will ruin me and my family. If it gets out and the cause for it is known, it will ruin you and your family." "Yes, that's so," McGregor replied. It did get out. Someone blackmailed Cody. He paid, and moved more than 75 miles away, to Gainesville, Georgia, in May of 1888. Later that year word reached him that McGregor was saying that Cody shot him to prevent the major from acquiring a particular parcel of land. Cody quit paying blackmail and returned to Warrenton. In April 1889, a Warren County grand jury indicted Cody for the attempted murder of Major McGregor. Cody, by his actions, was reluctant to stand trial. He hired an attorney only three weeks before the trial with the knowledge that the attorney would be absent on business during court week in October. Court had adjourned on Friday before Cody appeared in town that fateful Saturday.
McGregor, in his trial, said that he feared for his life constantly at the hands of Cody, and shot him due to that fear. Cody was insane, he said, although McGregor gave no reason for his insanity. He argued that he shot Cody in anticipated self defense, a legitimate legal argument then, although it is invalid now. The only reasons given for Cody's behavior were in the brief testimony of two witnesses at the trial: one related the remarks made by McGregor in 1885--without mentioning Mrs. DuBose; the other spoke of rumors of an affair between McGregor and the widow. Neither witness felt the evidence justified Cody shooting McGregor, but that was in keeping with a lack of emphasis on Cody's motives in the testimony. Mrs. DuBose's name was mentioned only that one time, and then Judge Sam Lumpkin said, "It is my painful duty to permit the admission of this testimony." Cody could not defend himself; the only person who could was the widow DuBose, and she did not appear at the trial. The true motives behind Cody's attempted murder and McGregor's successful one were effectively hidden behind the ardent desire of the judge, attorneys, and witnesses to protect her reputation. Too, in a sense Warrenton was on trial with McGregor. One prominent citizen was already dead, and if the jury convicted McGregor, it could mean the death of another. Most significantly, a conviction would lend credence to Cody's allegations of the major's improper conduct with Mrs. DuBose, information only briefly mentioned in the testimony, but known by many in the community. McGregor did murder Cody; there was no disputing it. He shot him three times before scores of witnesses on the square of Warrenton at shortly after 9 a.m. on October 12, 1889, but to find McGregor innocent was the only reasonable course for a jury of Warren County citizens. To do otherwise would have saddled their community with a shameful and unbearable infamy.
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Pope John XXIII: “It is easier for a father to have children than for children to have a real father.�
WHAT DID THE DOCTOR SAY? 23
I’ve been asked that a lot in the last five weeks, and rightly so. But it got me to thinking back: When I was a child, I was at the doctor often. Due to chronic bronchitis accompanied by tonsillitis, I was sick a lot. I missed plenty of Trick or Treats, Christmas school parties, Easter Egg Hunts, etc. But I never missed going to the doctor when I didn’t have to. In the winter, that wasn’t very often. I wonder if we even had insurance, at least until my daddy went to work at Lockheed when I was around 9. But doctor visits weren’t the unbelievable prices they are today. And I’ve had a lot of problems in my adulthood, too. I finally seemed to outgrow bronchitis in my mid-30s, but my back problems have worsened over the years, especially after I fell on black ice and had to have emergency back surgery in 2006. Things haven’t been the same. My life has been divided into two times: before the fall and after the fall, and I don’t mean Adam and Eve’s. However, for the past five weeks I have been mostly in the bed. Except for trips to the emergency room and then doctors, I haven’t been downstairs in my own home because my left leg stopped holding me up and I was in terrific pain. Guess who built a house with the bedrooms upstairs? So, my world has become the bedroom and bathroom. I’ve missed spring pretty much except for what I can see from my second story windows. That would be the top of the trees. A back specialist has given me a diagnosis which doesn’t include surgery (thank God). The medication increase has caused
me to become an expert in napping, and I’m still not up to the dosage he wants. I also started aquatic physical therapy. They tried to kill me. Honest. Seems it makes you worse before you get better. So, three times week I’m gonna be suffering, at least at first. It may cause me to have an aversion to swimming pools. But there’s hope. I’m assured by the doctor that I will heal in about three more weeks, and I should be walking fine. I wonder if I can remember how to cook. Nah. I miss so much of my regular activities, though. My meetings with local authors, story time at Gilmer Arts, working on my novel, blogging, even doing the laundry! I can’t wait to take a shower all by myself. Lucky for me Husband and Daughter love me lots, and they are taking great care of me. Friends have been wonderful. A borrowed wheelchair. Supper from different friends. Visits. Books. Taking our trash off. People I don’t even know offering things such as yard work. A Lutheran priest offering to come to my house and give this old Baptist communion because I can’t get to church. Getting an at-home professional haircut. Other offers to do all sorts of wonderful things. And the most important, prayers! Maybe by the next newspaper printing my article will be full of fun and exciting things I’ve been doing that will capture your interest and leave you in awe. Or at least have me outside.
Well now, isn't that just peachy?
It’s enough to make one’s blood pressure go sky high. Friday afternoon as the week was winding down I got a letter in the mail. It’s from one of my most endeared and esteemed U.S. institutions, a large pharmaceutical company. The gist of their cordial letter was that they’re having a Product Recall on one of their overpriced pills that I take for high blood pressure. Seems they’ve discovered a minor, miniscule flaw in their recalled medicine: it may cause me to get CANCER! They advise me that I might want to look into replacing it with another medicine. Until I find a replacement, their hired experts advised them and me that I should keep taking their potentially, possibly, probably, less than risk free medicine. I believe I now have what’s called a “dilemma.” My pharmaceutical company’s warm-hearted advice somehow does not allay my fears nor console my worried mind. Talk about a rock and a hard place. The choices aren’t good: Option #1: Stop taking their medicine and risk having a heart attack. Option #2: Do not stop taking their medicine and risk dying of cancer. Maybe I’ll just flip a coin. So, what’s the common denominator behind this minor medicine inconvenience? I Googled the topic and gained some insight. First of all, the medicine I take has an ingredient called, Nitro-SO-DIE-thy-la-mine. Yep, that word
is like Aunt Wanda’s caboose, it goes on forever and ever and ever. The problem is obvious to me. It’s located right there in the middle of this freight-train-long word. It’s the part that says “SO DIE.” Now, I have no medical training, none whatsoever, but if I were a doctor, I’d never prescribe a medicine that had something called “SO DIE” in it. Would you? A second thing or three was discovered in my vast Google research. Turns out medicines sold in the USA today are like the cars we drive— many are not made in the USA. My pills—the potentially, possibly, probably, less than risk free ones that are now being recalled are made in India. Why India? Because it costs less to make them there. You see, India doesn’t have to worry itself with all those pesky, trifling human health and safety regulations like we do here in the USA. Labor costs less and manufacturing pills in India is much simpler. That makes the price they charge the monster pharmaceuticals much less. Quality suffers a little, and there’s that risk of CANCER, but 100 percent of all people are going to die eventually … or, so they figure. Oddly, the price I’ve been paying for my “SO DIE” cancer causing, contaminant laced pills has gone up big time since the first of the year. Guess the CEO at my endeared Big Pharmacy needed another million dollars added to his salary.
By JOE COBB CRAWFORD
By Ted Smith Marion T. "Ted" Smith is the author of a new book, “Life in the Park: A Novel.� It is available on Amazon and at Barnes & Noble.
PAW’S CORNER by Sam Mazzotta
PUZZLES4KIDS - by Helene Hovanec
Making sure pet sitter w0n't bite (c) 2019 KING FEATURES SYNDICATE, INC.
DEAR PAW'S CORNER: How do I know if a dog-care facility or a dog sitter are legit? We're planning a vacation this summer and can't take "Riley," our German Shepherd. -- Barbara L., Parsippany, New Jersey DEAR BARBARA: You're doing the right thing by checking out more than one option for Riley's care while you're away. A dog kennel has its good points -Ð as well as specific things to watch for. Likewise for a dog sitter, who will come to your home regularly to feed, walk and play with your dog. In New Jersey, animal facilities including kennels must be licensed annually. They also must be inspected by the local health department to make sure they are sanitary and comply with building codes. Of course, that's not enough to ensure a satisfactory boarding experience for Riley. No one wants to come back from vacation to find their dog got sick or, in the case of an Indiana couple, was lost. Here are some tips: -- Personally visit each facility and ask for a tour. -- Do research online: Read reviews, search for notices of violations, and look for any news articles about the facilities, good or bad. -- Ask around at the dog park: Find out where other owners boarded their pets. The regulations for in-home pet sitters are not as clear, and so you need to check out potential sitters closely. Word-of-mouth recommendations and positive online reviews are a good start, but don't go by these alone. -- Meet the sitters personally to interview them, learn about their experience and see how they interact with Riley. -- Ask if they're affiliated with any national or international pet sitter organizations.
A pet supply boutique providing quality products & full service grooming for cats and dogs in the greater Ellijay community Premium grooming by appointment; walk-ins accepted if schedule allows.
(c) 2019 KING FEATURES SYNDICATE, INC.
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