It was a morning in early March 1945, a clear and sunny day. I was 24 years old and a member of the U.S. Army's 35th Infantry Division, 137th Infantry, Company I.
A man sobering up from the night before is sitting through the Sunday sermon, finding it long and boring. Still feeling hung over and tired, he finally nods off.
Everyone knows that the NEW Dick Henderson Memorial Bridge will reopen today. There is a picture in the Gazette his morning of Dorothy Davis riding her bike across the old bridge in 1934.
When I say… “I am a Christian”
Remember the day I borrowed your brand new car and I dented it? I thought you'd kill me. But you didn't.
A few days ago, after leaving a meeting at church, I reached for my car keys in my pocket, only to discover they weren't there. Desperately, I gave myself a quick personal pat down.
The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.
What has America become?
A Rabbit was walking down the road when he spotted a crow at the tip top of a very tall tree. He shouted, "Good Morning, Mr. Crow."