Lately a recurring dream jolts me awake at least once a week in the early morning darkness. I am trying to get out a newspaper, usually in one of the shops in which I toiled over the past three decades. Sometimes the venue isn’t recognizable. Deadline is fast approaching. Everything is going awry. Reporters aren’t filing their stories where they can be found. Computers are crashing.
Unexpected and unwanted visitors — rodeo clowns, sheriff candidates, bill collectors to whom I don’t owe money — keep interrupting and sidetracking me as I try to lay out the pages of a newspaper. I feel...
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For the first time in more than two decades I sat in a pressbox under the stadium lights, covering a football game. The Kilgore College Rangers faced their archrivals, the Tyler Junior College Apaches. Two of my KC journalism students had never covered a football game before, so I sat between them, showing them how to record each play. The plan was, when the game ended, they would be able to write a comprehensive account of what happened.
A few days before the match, Longview News-Journal sports editor Jack Stallard kindly came to campus and gave my young charges a quick lesson on how to fill...
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Gary Q. Frields lived and breathed for art in its various mediums — visual, sculpture and performance especially. He was a legendary teacher as well and perhaps proudest of students that became teachers of art. At his memorial event recently in Lufkin, I talked to a young woman I knew well in a previous life. She was about to begin teaching art at a community college. To prepare, she was reviewing what she had learned in Frields’ classes at SFA, because now she is teaching what she learned from him. I am certain he is looking down with great satisfaction. Frields died at 67 of cancer on Aug....
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A thunderstorm rumbled through on a recent late Sunday afternoon, bringing much-needed rain to our parched area. It also knocked out the electricity with 20 minutes left in the last episode of “Broadchurch” on BBC-America. This brought an anguished cry from my Beautiful Mystery Companion who was trying to catch up on missed shows. We lose power inordinately in this cul-de-sac, even under a cloudless sky, though rarely for long. I have AEP’s outage number in my cell phone contacts and quickly went through the routine of reporting it to an automated voice.
We are frugal folks with a large...
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Forty years ago this semester I started night classes at Kilgore College. I took nine hours while working full-time during the day at the Made Rite Bottling Co. in Longview. I operated the bottle-washing machine. That duty consisted of perching above the wide conveyor belt and making sure the bottles stayed upright before they entered the belly of this beast. Occasionally I had to pull out a bottle with a broken or chipped neck. When the line broke down up where the clean bottles were filled with Dr Pepper or RC Cola, or back where other workers were loading the dirty bottles, I could steal a few minutes...
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Life and events again conspired to keep me from making it to Fenway Park this season. I can’t complain, since nobody will listen. Instead I drove down to watch the Red Sox play the Houston Astros in Minute Maid Park, accompanied by my middle daughter Mere and son-in-law Matt. We sat in right field by the foul pole in prime home run ball-catching territory.
Back in the day, the Astros for a time earned the nickname of the Lastros, an insult that sadly has been resurrected for a team that has fallen on really hard times. Some of the jokes making the rounds of Facebook include:
• I left...
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While in Tyler several weeks ago I was introduced to Johnny Manziel’s grandparents. That’s Johnny Football, the Texas A&M quarterback who last year as a freshman won the Heisman trophy with an amazing season. He showed great poise both on the field and on camera during what was a stellar opening season for the Aggies in the SEC. Even though I’m a diehard Texas Longhorn fan, by last season’s end I was watching every A&M game televised. Johnny Football had earned his nickname, and he earned that Heisman.
Manziel’s grandparents appear to be in their late 60s, a handsome couple,...
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We gathered in a downtown Tyler watering hole after Bill Martin’s funeral to toast the man who was a mentor, boss and occasional terror to the dozen or so newspaper folks around the table. Martin died last week at 80 from congestive heart failure. Others more eloquent than me have written tributes, including Arnold Garcia, editorial page editor of the Austin American-Statesman. (mystatesman.com) Arnold started out as a reporter for Martin at the San Angelo Standard-Times. You should read his piece; here is my contribution.
I first met Bill when he became publisher of the Lufkin Daily News...
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I spent a brief time in the forest recently on an untouched piece of wilderness one rarely finds in the South. A young boy was playing in the creek, snapping twigs off tree branches, tossing them into the clear water, clearly delighted to be out in the woods, as was I.
It reminded of my childhood, seeing that boy and the fun he had being out there. As a child, I spent as much time in the woods as allowed, back in a time and place when it was safe for children to roam unsupervised, especially in the summer. I would leave the house not long after breakfast, likely after doing a few chores and pedal...
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NORTH OF COLORADO SPRINGS — A fine mist is sweeping through the ponderosa pines and quaking aspens on this late July morning just after sunrise. I sit outside under a pole barn, watching a pair of geese named Precious and Snow White pecking the ground inside their pen. Yesterday we fed them our watermelon rinds from the slices served us each morning by the proprietor of the bed-and-breakfast where we are staying. Both the geese, a Rhode Island Red named Ethel, and an aged Golden Retriever who goes by Scootie Patootie eagerly chowed down on the rinds. It was a revelation to know both fowl and an old dog would...
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