A tractor, a big tractor, its diesel motor droning from across a distant field. That's what it sounded like. Or a box fan, turned on high, held in place by a window sash pulled down tight on its metal frame and blowing out into the hot summer night to create a draft for the rest of the open windows in the house. That's what it sounded like. Or the jet engine of a DC-10 making its final approach to Hartsfield, its shadow an immense gray bird falling over the cars on I-75. That, too, is what it sounded ...
Where would we be without parents? Well, without parents, we wouldn't "be" at all. In creation, God premeditated to continuously populate the earth by the procreative union of husband and wives.
As police reporter for the Statesboro Herald, I type thousands of arrests that go in the paper every year. I've joked about putting my own name in the paper, though I was confident I would never commit a crime that would require doing so. I still do not feel as if I committed a crime, but I was arrested Monday morning.
The sweet scent of honeysuckle tickled my nose as I ducked under a tree limb. I relaxed to the sway of ol' BJ's easy stride as we meandered around pine trees, over fallen logs, across fire breaks and over small hills.
The death of one terrorist tells us a lot about ourselves. There will be those who say, "Who cares?" Others may respond, "Retaliation is not an answer." Possibly some may ask, "Won't this result in more terrorist attacks?"
UNC Greensboro took a different approach last weekend when it handed Georgia Southern its first weekend sweep of the season.
One of the "complaints" that I hear consistently is from people who live in the county and work and/or have property - commercial or residential - in the city of Statesboro. They feel they have no say in the governmental affairs of the city, i.e., they cannot vote in city elections even though they have a legitimate and vested interest in the continued success of the city.
While children and daffodils proudly showed off their Easter outfits, April quietly slipped away and May emerged. The end of another school year is upon us, with tests, parties, graduation, and shredded quizzes fast approaching. I hope you made this the best school year ever, with lots of family time squeezed in between studying and homework. Finish the month with fun family memories by celebrating the holidays below or creating your own unique festivities.
I was talking to a friend, who happens to be a physicist, during choir practice and got on the subject of the infinity of space when the choir director looked at us and said, "If you don't shut up and sing, I will pray that God punishes you … a lot." We lost our train of thought. I do remember that we agreed driving through Texas is a lot like infinity. I also remembered that I read a blurb on the computer that said, "Google knows everything!" This morning, I went to Google and asked, "What must I know?"
I'm reasonably certain that my parents never used the term "John's needs." Since having this thought, I've asked a handful of folks my age, "Do you think your parents ever talked about your needs and how to best meet them?"
Technically, Georgia Southern is still a half-game behind Elon in the Southern Conference standings.
In 1926, when Dwight D. Eisenhower graduated first in his class from the Command and General Staff School at Fort Leavenworth, his friend George S. Patton wrote him a note of congratulations.
For many Georgia manufacturers, this is their week to shine. Developed by the Technical College System of Georgia and the Georgia Department of Economic Development, Manufacturing Appreciation Week (MAW) is a time to recognize manufacturers around the state who demonstrate corporate responsibility, economic impact on Georgia, and workforce excellence.
The sky last night was a bolt of dark wash denim, the selvage hugging one horizon, the fold the other. And the stars, oh, so many stars, did not twinkle so much as glow, did not shine so much as radiate, radiate like ice crystals with a kind of negative energy. I lay on my back on the deck, the boards like extra ribs pushing into me at regular intervals, and stared up into the darkness interrupted only occasionally by airplanes so small they could have been fireflies.
Q: Our 7-year-old son and 32-month-old daughter squabble with each other constantly, mostly over taking and playing with each other's toys. The problem is our daughter, really. She will hit, scream, and throw things when she is angry. She wants to be in her brother's room, to do whatever he is doing, and he will not close his door. He's not rough with her, but we know he deliberately aggravates her. We have tried time outs and separating them. With this sort of age gap, is there some way of stopping the almost constant uproar?
Every dot on the map needs a hometown grocer - a personable place where you can load up your buggy with beef, where you're called "darlin'" by the cashier at checkout and where you know your butcher by name. They're the jewels of small towns, the businesses that give a city personality. In this week's Local Spotlight, I visit a place that's served Bulloch County for more than 40 years in that very capacity.
February may be short on the calendar, but let's hope it's long on family fun. With the cold days the Boro has experienced in 2014 so far, make sure to create warm and cozy memories with those you love, enough to last until the groundhog comes out to play in the spring.
Q: I have three kids, ages 8, 6 and 4. I need help solving the "pick up the playroom" dilemma. When an area in which they've been playing needs to be picked up and straightened, the 8-year-old always ends up doing all the work. The other two continue to play or just pretend to help.
Note: The following is the 22nd in a series of columns that will describe towns and communities, past and present, that were settled after Bulloch County was first settled. Some have since been cut into other counties.