Newspaper Page Text
BELIEF
♦ SATURDAY, DECEMBER 22, 2007
4A
Daniel F. Evans
President
Editor and Publisher
Julie B. Evans
Vice President
Ryan’s story offers hope,
change - in us
Over at Houston County High School there is
a young man named Ryan Joiner. You can read
some of Ryan’s story, if you haven’t already, on
page lA. “Some of Ryan’s story" is the correct
term because there is so much more to Ryan
Joiner than words can tell.
If you read the story, you know that Ryan was
born with cerebral palsy. You also know that Ryan
is a sports nut. He loves the Georgia Bulldogs.
He loves the Braves, hates that Andruw Jones is
now a Dodger and still considers Tom Glavine a
traitor because he went to the Mets before return
ing back home to Atlanta.
But beyond the teams, Ryan loves the games
themselves. He loves football for the passes,
baseball for the home runs, basketball for the
dunks.
Can you imagine? These are things Ryan will
never get to physically experience, not in the true
sense of you and I. Not in the sense we can “run”
to first or “leap” for a jump shot.
Life has dealt a cruel blow to Ryan Joiner.
But the most amazing thing - the miracle
of Ryan Joiner - is the way he answers, has
answered in kind. “Retreat” is not a word you will
ever hear Ryan Joiner say. “Surrender” is not in
his vocabulary.
Ryan Joiner decided a long time ago to face
life head on. Not only that, but his unquenchable
spirit is a wonder to behold. To see this young
man confined to a wheelchair, his hands often
times his own betrayer, and yet to watch and lis
ten and see and hear him find nothing but beauty
in this world is mind-boggling.
Ask yourself how you would respond if were
you?
That’s the best way we can daily honor Ryan
Joiner - the rare Ryan Joiner’s of the world
- other than to love him (them) unconditionally;
the same way he (they) love. Which, by the way,
is no secret at Houston County High School and
to the students and teachers and coaches, along
with his parents and grandparents and anyone
else who has ever met him; taught him in the
case of his parents and grandparents.
But, search your heart and ask yourself how
you would respond if you were Ryan Joiner.
In a time of the year in which we often measure
happiness by the red and green and gold and
silver wrappings under a Christmas tree, follow
the lead - each and every day - of a brave young
man who believes that life itself is the ultimate
gift.
Letters to the editor
Religion is important in presidential race
To say that religion is not important in presidential poli
tics is baloney. Religion is very important and should
carry a lot of weight in the voter’s decision process; the less
religion the better.
We’ve had two evangelical zealot presidents in the
recent past, one had a dismal record. The other is still
working on his.
Now we have a Mormon cultist and a Baptist evangelical
fundamentalist jockeying for the presidential nomination
on the conservative side, and Barrack Hussein Obama, of
See LETTER i, page $A
Border security should be top priority
Morlmmigration is rightly on our national level of concern
as we listen to the presidential debates. Border security
should be our number one goal because without it the
hordes of illegals, drug dealers, criminals, the seriously ill
and all the unemployed in Latin America and Mexico will
invade us. What we will always need
See LETTER 1, page $A
HOW TO SUBMIT:
There are three ways to submit a letter to the editor: E
mail it to hhj@evansnewspapers.com, mail it to Houston
Home Journal at 1210 Washington St., Perry, GA 31069, or
drop it off at the same location between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m.
Monday through Friday.
Letters should not exceed 350 words and must include
the writer’s name, address and telephone number (the last
two not printed). The newspaper reserves the right to edit
or reject letters for reasons of grammar, punctuation, taste
and brevity.
Foy S. Evans
Editor Emeritus
Don Moncrief
Managing Editor
Saying goodbye to 'Mr. Speaker'
This is part of what William
Manchester wrote about
Douglas McArthur in the
Preamble of his classic book, American
Caesar:
He was a great thundering paradox
of a man, noble and ignoble, inspiring
and outrageous, arrogant and shy, the
best of men and the worst of men, the
most protean, most ridiculous and most
sublime. . .
When I heard of Mr. Murphy’s death,
I once again thought of these words
- words I had used on one of eight occa
sions when I nominated Thomas Bailey
Murphy for Speaker of the Georgia
House. For indeed, Mr. Murphy was “a
great thundering paradox of a man”.
And yet, just as Manchester said of
McArthur, he was “. . . endowed with
great personal charm, a will of iron,
and a soaring intellect. ..”
I remember it well. We were on one
of our many trips and in the large but
poor city of Victoria, Mexico. Four
of us, Mr. Murphy, Marcus Collins,
Johnny Mitchell and I were walking
the streets when we met a young
boy, a waif. All hurried by, except Mr.
Murphy, and as I glanced back, I saw
him removing his bill folder to give this
stray child money. Often, he was the
“best of men”.
And, so, I choose to remember the
great Tom Murphy. The masterful Tom
Murphy. The Tom Murphy who was
often grand and inspiring. The Tom
Murphy who, after the budget had
been balanced and was ready for pre-
Christmas memories, it's tragedy today
Christmas always has been
something special for young
people and, as we grow older,
memories abound.
I remember those Christmases when,
after my father died, we had dinner (we
had dinner, not lunch, in the middle of
the day back then) with friends and the
children were then given a dime each
and treated to a movie. It seems that
the movies they showed on Christmas
Day always appealed to children.
Early in the morning we had opened
our presents - not many of them, but
surely appreciated - and enjoyed candy
and fruits that we seldom saw the rest
of the year.
This reminds me that very few chil
dren were obese back then. The fed
eral government did not have to tell
us what to eat or to take exercise.
Almost everything we had to eat was
healthy food and if we wanted to play
or go anywhere we did it on our feet,
which added up to plenty of exercise
each day.
The grammar schools I attended
were two miles from my home. So
was downtown Americus. I walked
back and forth to school each day and
thought nothing of it. The city school
system did not have buses and we did
not have an automobile.
Americus’ downtown businesses may
have been two miles away, but it did
not seem so far. As a matter of fact, my
friends and I ran to town, instead of
walking, because we were so anxious to
get there. And, if we stayed a little lon-
Larry
Walker
Columnist
lwalker@whgb-law.com
"And, so, l choose to
remember the great Tom
Murphy. The masterful Tom
Murphy. The Tom Murphy
who was often grand and
inspiring."
sentation, required the budget sub
committee to re-figure and add funds
for the tuberculosis hospital in Rome
or for the blind academy in Macon.
The Tom Murphy who, like Caesar
with a thumbs up or down, chose
“up” on the World Congress Center in
Atlanta, the Ag Center in Perry, and
other worthy projects too numerous
to mention, over which he held life or
death powers. The Tom Murphy who
called himself a “conservative” but was
really a populist. Yes, the great Tom
Murphy.
And, I choose to remember the good
and happy times of which there were so
many. There was the trip that he and
"...First let's see your green card!"
Foy
Evans
Columnist
foyevansl9@cox.net
ger than we should have, we ran all the
way home to get there before dark.
The policemen all knew us. So did
the firemen. They kept an eye on us
when we were in town and our parents
felt good about that.
Going to a movie was a treat. I was
fascinated by what I saw on the screen.
The movies were silent. Someone in
the front of the theater would play
music on a piano or organ, attempting
to make the music complement what
was on the screen. It was wonderful.
I remember the first talking movie.
There were just a couple of scenes in
which A 1 Jolson sang. Everyone was
fascinated and incredulous that some
one could actually sing in a movie.
Getting to go to a movie on Saturday
was something else. Families gathered
downtown on Saturdays and when
our parents could spare a dime to go
to a movie we went to the Rylander
Theater to see our favorite cowboys
beat the bad guys or the Indians.
You could always tell the good guys
from the bad guys by the hats they
wore. Good guys wore white hats.
Villains wore black hats.
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SkT . jffiH
JjHH
HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL
I took to the first National Speakers’
Conference at Mackinaw Island,
Michigan. We landed somewhere in
northern Michigan, and as we departed
the plane (Mr. Murphy with his big
white Stetson hat on and with me tag
ging along), a big limo pulled up, and
the driver jumped out and inquired,
“You are the Speaker, aren’t you”? I
replied, “Yes, he is the Speaker,” only
to see out of the comer of my eye and
across the tarmac, Speaker Tip O’Neal.
Speaker O’Neal got the limo and we
got the van, but Mr. Murphy was still
the Speaker to me! And he always will
be.
What a grand time we had, much of
the time, during the last 15 years or
so of his speakership. How many ball
games - spring training with the Braves
and our sitting together watching
the Bulldogs - did we enjoy together?
There must have been 1,000 luncheons
and receptions. There were those late
nights and all weekends working on
the budget when most of the legisla
tors were at home. I can’t reminisce
without mentioning our daily session
breakfast meetings at Marcus Collins’
room 292 in the Sheraton Hotel. Mr.
Murphy ate cheese toast and I ate
cereal and we both reveled in Elmore
Thrash’s humor and Bobby Rowan’s
antics. And we were so proud of those
sound balanced budgets and the won
derful progress our beloved state was
making. You, as Speaker, with me as
your loyal assistant, working together
See SPEAKER, page fA
Often when the hero and heroine
were in danger the cavalry, with bugle
blowing (at least the bugler was blow
ing the horn, though' there was no
sound) would arrive just in time.
I remember on several occasions
staying at the theater and watching a
movie several times to see if the cav
alry always arrived in time. It always
did.
When sound finally was added to the
silent movies they were more exciting
and thrilling and real, though they
were in black and white and full of
what we today would call “snow”.
Villains from outer space threatened
the world. Buck Rogers saved us and
the world. Men flew around in outer
space with jet packs on their backs. It
didn’t matter that they were in outer
space, breathing as normally as they
could on Earth.
We had so little entertainment that
a little went a long way. We had so few
toys that we invented our own toys.
We thought we knew a lot, but
today’s children, in addition to being
spoiled and having so many toys that
they don’t appreciate any of them,
know much more than we did and, in
my opinion, may be smarter, too.
So, with Christmas only a few days
away, children await the avalanche of
toys and gifts that will come their way.
They will look at them, maybe play
with them for a little while, and then
become bored.
That is the tragedy of a world that is
so affluent.