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8A I DAWSON COUNTY NEWS I dawsonnews.com
Wednesday, July 4,2018
Some will use you until the favors run out
One of the recurring themes
Mama has tried to instill in my
life is how to treat people.
Kindness, of course, is tanta
mount.
Saying ‘please,’ ‘thank you,’
along with other pleasantries
should always be offered.
And maybe even more impor
tantly, was Mama’s preaching
about how people should not be
used.
Perhaps the reason that lesson
was so essential to Mama was it
was something she learned first
hand when she was a child.
Mama was enjoying a bag of
animal crackers one day, some
thing she probably was just tick
led that my uncle, Bobby, hadn’t
hoodwinked her out of. His little
cunning self normally tricked her
into paying him for something
she already owned outright.
So, there she was, enjoying her
little cookies when the other kids
came up asking her to share.
Mama, being the kind-hearted
person she has always been,
agreed.
The other kids were nice to her
and wanted to play with her, as
long as she had the cookies.
SUDIE CROUCH
Columnist
Once the cookies were gone, so
were they.
When she asked them to play
the next day, they asked if she
had more cookies. She told them
no. They didn’t want to play.
“That was awful,” I said when
she recounted the story to me.
“It was,” she began. “But it
taught me an important lesson.
Some people are only nice to you
as long as you can do things for
them. Once you no longer can,
they are gone.”
It pained me to think my
Mama had been treated like that.
Even more painful is the real
ization that its not just kids want
ing cookies that behave that way.
The moral of Mama’s story has
played out quite repeatedly in my
life and more frequently as an
adult.
It’s a bit off-putting to have
people only think of you when
they need something.
There have been several times
that people have contacted me out
of the blue and free of preamble
requesting advice, time, and other
assorted favors that haven’t spo
ken to me in years.
A few even skip the fake pleas
antries of “How have you been?”
and launch right into what they
want me to do for them.
As Granny would say, “If you
can’t say boo to me the rest of the
time, don’t come a-calling when
you need me.”
Actually, she would say some
thing a heck of a lot harsher and
more vulgar, but I can’t put that
here; I am sure you catch the drift
of it though.
It has made me highly aware of
who filters into my life only
when they need something and
who is always around, even if just
in the background to pop in to
say hey from time to time.
What can be the most shocking
is the people that I haven’t spo
ken to in years - years, mind you
- seem to have no hesitation in
asking for favors.
“Is it something you are able to
do?” Mama asked.
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“Then why do you not want
to?”
I sighed again. Didn’t she get
it? She remembered how she was
treated when the cookies ran out.
Kind of the same situation, in my
opinion.
Mama weighed my complaint
and told me I had a legitimate
one. “But don’t be so quick to
dismiss someone, Kitten,” she
said. “If you can help them, do
so. We’re supposed to be good to
each other.”
I hate it when she does that -
she always has a way of remind
ing me to be the bigger person,
and sometimes, I just don’t want
to.
Much like Granny would, I
think that kind of behavior
shouldn’t be rewarded by taking
the high road but by telling the
person they are a jerk.
“Mama, I am not dismissing
them; I am just tired of people
only contacting me when I can do
something for them. That’s not
friendship. It’s usery.”
Usery isn’t a real word but it
should be. Especially in this situ
ation.
“I am just saying if you can
help someone, if it is in your
power to do so, you should.
We’re supposed to help one
another. If you don’t want to be
friends with this person, then you
should tell them that as well.”
I didn’t consider the person a
friend; more like an acquaintance
with no boundaries.
“Well, if you don’t want to help
them, maybe send them to some
one who can. Just don’t be mean
to them; there’s enough meanness
in the world anyway and they evi
dently consider you a friend.”
“But, Mama,” I began weakly.
I really had no argument.
There are just different types of
people in the world.
Those who are made by their
Mamas to be good, decent peo
ple. And those who will use those
people up until the favors ran out.
Sudie Crouch is an award winning
humor columnist and author of the
recently e-published novel, "The
Dahlman Files: A Tony Dahlman
Paranormal Mystery."
You really learn someone by knowing their details
When Rev. Billy
Graham passed away,
there were wonderful trib
utes that poured forth from
people who knew him or
had been inspired by his
life and preaching.
Each news story seemed
to recall what most of us
had always known about
the kind Rev. Graham: He
was a man of deep moral
conviction; a favorite
phrase was “The Bible
says,” he was raised on a
Charlotte dairy farm, he
found salvation in a tent
revival then devoted his
life to preaching salvation
through the risen Christ.
We also knew that his wife
Ruth had been dedicated
until her death, they lived
in the North Carolina
mountains, he always
wore suits with ties and
was known for the thick
mop of hair that turned
from brown to silver.
Though his son,
Franklin, has taken the
helm of his father’s minis
try, there are other preach-
RONDA RICH
Columnist
ers in the family including
Anne Graham Lotz, whom
her father had often called,
“The best preacher in the
family.”
Naturally, when she
spoke on the day of his
heavenly home going, she
talked foremost of his
devotion to Christ and the
conversion of sinners. Her
words were eloquent.
Then, as only an accom
plished storyteller can do,
she shared insights that
gave us a deeper look at
the carnal man and his
earthly habits.
She said, “When I think
of him, I don’t think of
Billy Graham, the public
figure. I think of my
Daddy. The one who was
always a farmer at heart.
Who loved his dogs and
his cat. Who followed the
weather patterns almost as
closely as he did world
events. Who wore old blue
jeans, comfortable sweat
ers, and a baseball cap.
Who loved lukewarm cof
fee, sweet ice tea, one
scoop of ice cream, and a
plain hamburger from
McDonald’s. Who was
interested in everything
and everyone, from the
small to the great. Whose
mind remembered details
that even a computer
would have trouble recall
ing.”
And there, within her
sentences, we learned
details that we had not
known during Rev.
Graham’s long life on
earth. Lukewarm coffee.
Plain hamburgers. Sweet
ice tea. It made him feel
normal and more of a
neighbor than a celestial
icon.
The power of superb
storytelling lies in the
minutia of a person’s story.
Fausett receives County Commissioner certificate
From staff reports
Dawson County District 1
Commissioner Sharon Fausett recently
completed all courses required to earn her
certificate of recognition as a Certified
County Commissioner from the University
of Georgia Carl Vinson Institute of
Government, in partnership with the
Association County Commissioners of
Georgia.
Fausett, who took office in January
2015, successfully completed nine training
sessions covering 66 hours of required
courses. Courses included County
Government 101, County Government
Finance, County Government Law,
Economic Development, Ethics, Human
Resources, Leadership Institute, Property
Appraisal and Taxation and Public Health
and Safety.
“A huge thank you goes to the county
and ACCG for the role each has played in
my receiving this certification,” Fausett
said. “I bust the knowledge I have gained
will enable me to be a more effective com
missioner as I continue to serve the citi
zens of Dawson County.”
Fausett is running unopposed in this
year’s election and is slated to begin her
second term in office in January 2019.
The Institute of Government, in partner
ship with ACCG, offers courses through
the Lifelong Learning Academy for county
commissioners to develop and enhance
their leadership and governing skills.
Academy courses are offered at least once
every other year during training programs.
These programs are held in conjunction
with regularly scheduled ACCG meetings.
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Yes, it matters if the teen
ager was driving a Ford or
a Chevy truck when he got
stuck in the mud at the
football field. And it is
more interesting if we
know whether it was white
or black so that our mind’s
eye can see clearly the
truck as it wrestled its way
out of a muddy grave.
Not long ago, a friend
experienced an attempted
home invasion. This saga
ends well in that the alarm
system went off, he
jumped out of bed,
grabbed a nearby handgun
and started firing. The
three bandits fled but were
captured later. As he told
the story of what hap
pened, he began by telling
me that he had been suf
fering with a bad cold. So,
that night, he took some
cold medicine. He named
the brand.
“I was so sleepy that I
couldn’t hold my head so I
went to bed.” His regaling
tale included which room
and in which chair he had
been sitting before retiring
and which television show
his wife was watching. As
he told the story, I was
transported into the time
and place of the happen
ing.
“I just want you to
know,” I told Tink, “this
was a very serious story
but he included the details
like the name of the cold
medicine, what time he
took it, etcetera.”
Tink occasionally thinks
we Southerners use too
many details and some
times encourages me to
skip those details and get
to the point.
“But, it matters what car
someone drove or what
she was wearing,” I usual
ly protest.
A person’s true life, I
believe, is embedded in
the details. Just look at
what they told us about
Rev. Graham.
Florida Rich is the best-sell
ing author of Mark My
Words: A Memoir of Mama.
Visit www.rondarich.com to
sign up for her free weekly
newsletter.
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