Commentary on Current Events of Interest to Columbus, and the Surrounding Counties of NC
` The day was so hot, I thought the corn was melting.I know that the corn was actually thriving on that still, humid June day, but to me it seemed...
Column by Jefferson Weaver They stand frozen in time, two men far younger than I am now, Gary Cooper-esque smiles under dark eyes. The taller of the two is my...
Doodle eyed me suspiciously, then fluffed his neck feathers before announcing the pending new day. I have no idea why I was up early; it had been a fitful night....
Since Jan. 1, 58 law enforcement officers have died doing their jobs in the United States. Another 64 died on duty due to other causes, mainly COVID-19, 9/11 related cancer,...
Dear Papa, There are those who find it maudlin, if not morbid, to write to someone who has died; after all, the intended recipient doesn’t have a postal service, whichever...
Tuesday, April 25, 1978, was a beautiful spring day. A new department store had opened in town, and a beauty queen cut the ribbon. It was an election year, so...
Happy Wade is my new hero. To begin with, that’s a great name. I’ve never met him, but I know folks who know him. All indications are he’s a regular...
Let’s get something straight — I am not a racist, nor am I a bigot. There’s a difference, and neither have traits I tolerate. I’m not going to follow the...
At sunrise and sunset, every day, they face off. One always keeps the sun at his back, as fighters have done for centuries. Their voices ring through the hollow, their...
The box, like many, still bears the marks of time, a flood, and a half-dozen moves. Faded magic marker, remnants of an organized attempt at relocating from one home to...
It’s been a year now since we allowed the politicians to take us hostage with a virus. Don’t get me wrong – I do not doubt that COVID-19 is dangerous,...
By Katie Compton Boyd His math grades aren’t perfect. His handwriting can be sloppy and rushed at best. He’s outgrowing pants and shoes in record time. I have to remind...
I finally caught Hope on a day when the thermometer in the truck read 105. She was mangy, covered in ticks, scratched up and infected. She was too hot, tired...
For nearly a year, it lay waiting. Half-covered by rank grass, half-shaded by the scrub oaks and desperate pines, shielded from traffic by little more than a half-hearted blackberry bramble...
It surprises, even shocks, some people when they realize the woman in the black and white swimsuit pictures is my mother. Neither photo is objectionable, especially not by modern standards....
As I write these words, my ditches are overflowing, my animals are fractious, my pants are wet from the waist down and the ankles up, my shoulder hurts, I’m not...