Opinion

Growing up in Savannah, one always felt a collective, ingrained fear of hurricanes. I don’t remember a really impactful one from my youth but I do recall seeing windows boarded or taped up and sandbags being filled in preparation for a coming storm. Of course, that was long before the breathless, diminutive Jim Cantore and The Weather Channel (TWC) prepped us for looming disasters weeks in advance.

If somebody reports more than a half dozen clouds off the Horn of Africa, Jim goes on full alert status. He has more wind than the big bad wolf and Hurricane Dorian, which threatened Georgia’s port city last week, combined. [Full Story »] 

By Mike Ruffin

In September 1975, I entered Mercer University as a freshman. Mercer followed the quarter system back then, so three courses constituted a full load.

Two of my first three courses were held in Knight Hall.

I was a Christianity major and Greek minor, and Knight Hall housed both of those departments. During my Mercer career, I took, as best I can recall, nineteen classes in that building—all of my Christianity and Greek courses, plus three Sociology classes and one course each in Philosophy and Political Science.
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The long drought ended Friday when football returned with both the Lamar County Trojans and the Pike County Pirates back in action. It had been far too long without real football. There is just nothing like Friday night football and knowing the college action will follow the next day.

The Pirates easily dispatched Central-Talbotton 34-6 on the road. They travel to Fayette County this Friday. Their home opener is Sept. 6 against Greenville.

Lamar County was one of the surprise teams in the state Friday as they wore out Mt. Zion, the state’s #7 Class A team, 27-6. LC made multiple mistakes but still held the Eagles scoreless until just 12 seconds remained on the game clock. They play at Hogansville this Friday. [Full Story »] 

By Mike Ruffin

Well, the kids have started a new school year.

In my home county of Lamar, the high schoolers are in a brand new facility.

When the Lamar County schools officially consolidated and desegregated in 1970, boys—I think it was the seventh through twelfth grade boys, but it may have been fifth through twelfth— were assigned to the former Booker T. Washington School, which was given the cartographically accurate but historically meaningless name of Forsyth Road School.
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I can remember my grandmother using the phrase ‘it sticks in my craw’. The word ‘craw’ is slang for crop which is the place in the throats of poultry and birds where seeds are stored as they break down into a digestible form. I have opened the craw of many a dove in the field to see what they were feeding on that brought them within range of my shotgun.
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I recently completed teaching an eight-week class on Wednesday evenings at Mercer University’s Henry County Center in McDonough. My usual route home takes me down I-75 to the Barnesville/Jackson exit.

These days, the Georgia Department of Transportation is resurfacing that stretch of interstate highway. They do the work at night. My class ended at 9:45 p.m.

You do the math.
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I am rapidly closing in on my 65th birthday which is astonishing to me. When I was young, those who were 65 seemed ancient. But, there is no denying it, I am almost there.
All the old sayings about aging are true.

‘If I had known I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself.’ Check. ‘The older you get, the colder you get.’ Check. ‘The older you get, the faster time goes by.’ Check. ‘Growing old is not for sissies.’ Check! They go on, ad infinitum.

Thus far, I have been able to open my eyes each morning (though much earlier now), put one foot in front of the other and I recognize every day north of the dirt is a good day. [Full Story »] 

By Mike Ruffin

I love the United States of America. This is my home. I was born here. I have lived here all my life. I’ve visited a few other countries, but I’m always glad to get home to the good old U.S.A.

To quote the great theologian Chuck Berry, “I’m so glad I’m livin’ in the U.S.A.!”

I love the United States of America. That’s why it makes me happy when we promote equality, practice justice, and foster community. That’s why it makes me unhappy when we don’t do those things.

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The Independence Day holiday in 1994 fell on a Monday. At that time, we were putting out this newspaper and printing many others at our printing plant in Barnesville. We moved production of some papers up and others back to enjoy a long weekend at the beach.

Weather coverage then was not what it is now but we heard it had rained a lot in Barnesville and more was on the way so we came back early as a precaution. On Hwy. 41 between Forsyth and Barnesville, we crossed a normally placid little stream which looked like the Chattooga River in the film (italics) Deliverance (end italics). We knew then there could be trouble.

It was raining hard. It rained hard all night and the downpour continued all day July 5. We initially thought low-lying areas would take the brunt of the damage. Barnesville is largely at pretty good elevation so we thought our building would be fine and it was until the water overwhelmed the city storm water system. Debris clogged pipes and grates and eventually Towaliga Creek was running so full it backed up into the storm drains, or so it was explained to me. [Full Story »] 

On Thursday, July 20, 1969 at 3:17 p.m., the Apollo 11 lunar landing module touched down on the moon’s surface. At 10:56 p.m. on that same day, astronaut Neil Armstrong became the first person to walk on the moon. Astronaut Buzz Aldrin soon joined Armstrong on the moon’s surface.

I was an almost eleven-year-old boy who was really glad to be out of school for the summer so I could stay up and watch the incredible event take place.

I joined millions of people in being enthralled by the moon landing.
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By Mike Ruffin

Some of you are familiar with Canadian singer-songwriter Gordon Lightfoot’s 1971 song, “If You Could Read My Mind.” It’s a great song.

The song was inspired by the divorce that ended Lightfoot’s first marriage. In the recorded version of the song, Lightfoot sings,

If you could read my mind, love,
what a tale my thoughts could tell.
Just like an old time movie,
'bout a ghost from a wishing well.
In a castle dark or a fortress strong.
with chains upon my feet.
But stories always end,
and if you read between the lines,
you'd know that I'm just tryin' to understand
the feelings that you lack.
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Policy is, or at least should be, based on public opinion. Public opinion has always been like a pendulum - constantly swinging. It swings to the far left and then slowly to the far right. The period of time the pendulum spends in the balanced middle, where common sense thrives, is very short.

There are many out there who try to control the narrative of events you hear in order to swing your opinion toward policies they support and would like to see put into effect.

Perhaps no other issue illustrates this as well as the debate over abortion in America. [Full Story »] 

By Mike Ruffin

In late spring of 1964, I joined my fellow graduates of Miss Sylvia’s Kindergarten on the stage of the Gordon Grammar School lunchroom. At a designated point in the midst of all the pomp and circumstance, I stepped forward and, with trembling knees and shaking voice, recited the first poem I ever uttered publicly. It was “The Swing” by Robert Louis Stevenson.

How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
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May Wingfield Melton (1923-2014) and Oliver Quimby Melton Jr. (1923-2013) were inducted into the Georgia Newspaper Hall of Fame May 30 during the 133rd annual convention of the Georgia Press Association at Jekyll Island.

It is fitting their portraits will hang in at the Grady School of Journalism in Athens where they met as journalism students. Both were editors of the UGA newspaper, The Red & Black. May was the first ever female editor after being recruited by legendary Dean John Drewry for a summer when all the male students, including Quimby, were off at war or training for war. She would soon join him at Ft. Riley, Kansas for what turned out to be the last ever U.S. Cavalry wedding at the vast training ground.
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