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Opinions

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Standing on the shoulders of giants

Well, I’m officially a grandfather. Nobody asked me if I wanted to be one, they just up and made the decision without me. Behind my back. And now I have to learn how to be one, a good one, because I’d hate to be the kind of grand father all the little kids are scared of, the Scrooge of all things grandfatherly. That will be my fate if I don’t buckle down and learn from all the grandfathers who came before me.

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Letter to the Editor

I’ve had people ask me why I‘m so opposed to the Marvin Nichols Reservoir. I’ll try to explain it as best as I can. In the early 1900’s my great grandfather bought a farm about two miles as the crow flies from Old Hagansport. On this farm he raised corn, cotton, and kids. Six in all. By all accounts he was a good neighbor and generally well thought of. My grandfather was the oldest of his sons, and one spring day they were clearing stumps with dynamite in order to increase the plowable acres. My great grandfather lit a dry fuse and it raced to the dynamite faster than he could race away from it.

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