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Thanksgiving? Here again? It’s almost stylish these days to say: “Thankful for what?” Well, let’s just look back a bit. One in particular noteworthy year in my life was 1963. Fresh out of college and my military service behind me, things never looked any better. I was glad to have my military service behind me. The hard times of working my way through college had left Pat and me with sighs of relief. A new and first baby boy in our family was for sure a joy. And I was living and working in Ada. How could it get better?
Read moreThis week we honor veterans – and they can never be honored enough. Please take the time to read the following by Jerry Cianciolo . . .
Read moreI was surprised to see that one of my favorite quarterbacks has come down with Covid. I was pretty sure (to myself) last week that I wasn’t going to say anymore about this world-wide pandemic and the number of people who won’t take the shots or wear the masks. Nothing I can do about it, I said to myself. Then comes along Aaron. Well, he really let me down on this.
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My friend Charles Biggs of the Tulsa Beacon wrote the following. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Read moreI had a lot of company last weekend. A lot of family from across the plain gathered at my house to celebrate the life of my late sister-inlaw, Freda Harry. Freda passed away recently in a Dallas Care Center and remains will be interred in Allen Cemetery at a later date. We loved and we all will surely miss this remarkable lady. Freda’s obituary was published in last week’s Advocate.
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It will be Halloween in a few days, and we found some interesting items about this annual event . . .
Read moreMy mother sometimes got onto me for daydreaming so much. I had a teacher or two over at Stonewall that agreed with her too. She always admonished me to quit my daydreaming. As though one could. Like most people I think I was meant to travel. Go places. Someplace where they speak different languages. Dress funny. Eat weird foods. Places so far away you might need to get on an airplane or a ship to get there. But to get on an airplane means going through x-rays, being patted down. Getting a passport. Well sure. Pat and I, being the forever optimists, renewed our passports some time back. I guess we did want to be squeezed into an uncomfortable seat and be hurtled at speeds at nearly the speed of sound to one of these strange places.
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