Once again my fellow Americans are failing to consider the big picture, concerning themselves instead with a subject more easily encompassed conceptually: the behavior of one seriously squirrelly individual.
Calvin Prichard stared vacuously at the body and wondered how he would explain this to the kids.
"There's a rock!" I saw it a split second before my friend, Naomi, hollered those words. In that instant I had to decide whether to smack into the rock or swerve, try to avoid it and chance slamming into oncoming traffic.
I don't ordinarily write a column in response to a colleague's column.
The expulsion of a gay high school senior in Florida illustrates a few of the things wrong with school voucher programs.
We usually reserve breaking news for the front page, but I felt it would be appropriate to announce some news in this space. The Henry County Chamber of Commerce recently completed an intense branding project, compiling surveys and information submitted by those who live here and those who travel here. The result is Henry County's new tagline: "Comfortably south of Atlanta."
By Bill Yoder
Only one night a year can bring together the smells of waxy chocolate and granulated sugar with those of latex, grease paint and sweaty kids. Add to this a crisp twilight breeze that hints at winter and the rustle of fallen brown leaves underfoot. With all the kinetic force of a 5th birthday party and more explosively delivered sucrose than a pi?ata, it's here ? Halloween!
Advertising has gone mad. The other day I received an email from someone, a person who makes it a point to dress modestly as prescribed by her religious beliefs.
By Greg Gelpi
By Jeffery Armstrong
NEWS DAILY - COMMUNITY LINKS
By Clay Wilson
By Ed Brock
I loaned one of our newest reporters a copy of "Confederacy of Dunces" to read since he is from Louisiana. And as soon as he is through I plan to bring in one of my dog-eared copies of Robert Penn Warren's "All the King's Men."
October 31, 2003
I can trace my artistic inclinations all the way back to at least the third grade. When asked by the teacher to render a watercolor of a local landscape, I provided a view of Stone Mountain from the front lawn - but with the many bright orange trash cans I had seen on a recent visit intact. I remember being questioned about these additions, and I responded that the trash cans had really been there and thus were included. Whereas the teacher was confounded by their inclusion, I would have thought their exclusion somehow illogical. I'd like to think that even then I had some kind of notion to preserve this landscape the way I had seen it. Perhaps this notion is what led me to become a photojournalist.
By Doug Gorman
By Anthony Rhoads
By Clay Wilson