Editorial / Opinions

If you’re like me, I’ll bet you’ve thought (at least once in your life) about your eventual funeral – at least in terms of who might come or offer condolences to the family. A friend of mine recently got that rare glimpse into what people would think of him after he’s gone.

In the past few years, it seems I've only gone back to the farm for large projects like hay hauling, fencing and most recently, barn building. Dad has put up a quonset-style barn, and for our small family farm, this project meant all hands on deck. Eighty feet at a little over two feet at a time is quite the effort! The day I joined in, I was on the ground crew, breaking the slag off the welds my brother and dad had completed, and then polishing them ‘til they shined. I had on goggles, sparks were flying everywhere, but I was soaking up the stress-relief that comes with some good, hard manual labor.

For nearly 50 years I have nurtured two tattered and faded documents in my collection of items that might someday be worth sharing with readers.

If you’re like me, I’ll bet you’ve thought (at least once in your life) about your eventual funeral – at least in terms of who might come or offer condolences to the family. A friend of mine recently got that rare glimpse into what people would think of him after he’s gone.

I spent a weekend in Kentucky here recently. In western Kentucky they still grow tobacco, and many of the plots look just as they did 100 years ago. We passed several nostalgic, blackened barns that slowly drift smoke haze across the horizon as tobacco is dried inside

Parker's Court History:
Part One

I usually don’t need any “extra” reminders of my advancing age.  Most days, the ever-increasing number of aches and pains as I get out of bed each morning are more than enough to let me know that I’ve been around longer than the majority of people on earth.

I spent a weekend in Kentucky here recently. In western Kentucky they still grow tobacco, and many of the plots look just as they did 100 years ago. We passed several nostalgic, blackened barns that slowly drift smoke haze across the horizon as tobacco is dried inside.

As I begin this column about the current economic crisis in the United States, the first things that pop into my mind are the Bill of Rights and the action of Jesus when he entered the temple.

I usually don’t need any “extra” reminders of my advancing age.  Most days, the ever-increasing number of aches and pains as I get out of bed each morning are more than enough to let me know that I’ve been around longer than the majority of people on earth.