Editor, I read Mr. Bruce McCartney's letter to the editor regarding the Wounded Warrior Project. He is totally correct. The project is top-heavy with a greedy group of executives. The top 10 officers have a compensation package from $150,000 to $333,000 a year. The remaining funds are disbursed to over 40 distribution organizations with similar management configurations.
Allen Peake is a man on a mission. The five-term Republican state representative from Macon is the driving force behind proposed legislation to legalize medical marijuana in Georgia. He may succeed this year after suffering a setback in 2014 when the House and Senate got into a bit of political brinksmanship at the last minute and failed to pass his bill, which had sailed through the House with only four negative votes.
My parents, according to the world's definition of "cool," were not. Neither drank, nor did either ever possess a credit card. Groceries and clothing were paid for in cash, utilities paid by check, and the only monthly payments they ever allowed themselves were a mortgage for a house, a short-term loan for another farm, and a couple of cars bought, over time, and paid for quickly.
When thinking about the $1.1 trillion spending bill passed by Congress last month, one might ask, "What does Congress have against conservation?"
Dear Cameron Charles Yarbrough: For the past 15 years, I have taken the opportunity at the beginning of the New Year to share some advice - first with your dad and his cousins and now with you, my great-grandson. I hope you don't mind and will bear with me. You probably would rather be playing with your Legos and I understand that but maybe something in this letter might make a difference in your life in years to come. I pray that will be so.
Editor, I've been seeing a lot more commercials for the Wounded Warrior Project on television recently, requesting that I send in my $19 per month.
A few years ago, the magazine I have long loved - Southern Living - changed. Like most Southerners, I have an aversion to change, which is why our traditions have such stranglehold. We never let go.
There's nothing like a good, old-fashioned road trip to ensure that good parenting habits and ground rules are not only broken, but stomped to smithereens and tossed out of a (moving car) window.
My wife and I welcomed a new member to our family Dec. 13 when our middle son married his college sweetheart, whom he dated for the previous nine years.
These words are dedicated to the memory of my friend, the late Otis Brumby Jr., publisher of the Marietta Daily Journal, who encouraged me to run this column each Christmas. It is also dedicated to those who believe.
It's Christmas again, which means we were granted another year. Ben Franklin was right: "Time is the stuff life is made of." It behooves us to ponder its swift passage.
It was late in the summer of my parents' lives that I was born into a family with three children well on their way to being grown and done with home.
On Sunday, Nov. 9, 2014, my world came crashing down around me. It was the day I learned my mother has stage 3 lung cancer. My mom and my sister, who live in Missouri, broke the news to me during a FaceTime video chat, and I felt everything and nothing at the same time.
Well, here we are at the most wonderful time of the year. I would try to stretch out Christmas as long as possible, if I could. Instead of the "Twelve Days of Christmas," I would propose the "Twelve Months of Christmas." I love everything about Christmas!
'Tis the holiday season, and Christmas is rushing across the calendar like a runaway freight train. It is a time when families and cherished friends gather around the hearth to drink in all the good cheer. It's a time of peace on Earth and goodwill toward men. And yet, Christmas has a sinister side - one we often exile to the extreme depths of our consciousness. I'm referring, of course, to home break-ins, thefts and frauds.
Editor, We at the United Way are extremely grateful to our Bryan County partners. Our 2014 campaign goal was $75,000, and our amazing community helped us raise a little over $80,000 to date.