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8A I DAWSON COUNTY NEWS I dawsonnews.com
Wednesday, August 22,2018
Used to be able to disagree without being disagreeable
A friend of mine com
mented on Facebook the
other day that he noticed a
few people had unfriended
him because of a political
post he had shared.
I missed the post - I am
trying to stay off Facebook
for the most part lately - but
found it sad someone
unfriended him over his
opinion.
His opinion.
Now, granted, years ago
before we had social media,
we didn’t discuss politics
among friends or family
because we knew not every
one shared the same views.
Back then, we didn’t feel
the need to share every
thought that came in our
head at every given
moment.
In today’s digitally driven
world, we declare our views
every three seconds and
state, “My wall, my page -
if you don’t like it, you
know where the unfriend
button is.”
That is not what this
SUDIE CROUCH
Columnist
friend did at all; if anything,
he probably shared some
thing showing his patriotic
beliefs and someone took
great umbrage with it.
It’s sad because regardless
of what political party we
tend to align with, we are all
Americans. We’re all mem
bers of the human race. We
all have to get along. We
have to work together, live
together in our communi
ties, and find ways to make
things better here at home.
Granny would have never
stood for this nonsense.
She always said as much
as some people irritated her,
she didn’t give up on them
because of their opinions.
“Opinions are just like a
certain body part,” she
would say, “everyone’s got
‘em and needs to keep ‘em
to themselves.”
But here lately, our differ
ing opinions are driving us
apart.
If I unfriended everyone I
disagreed with, I would
have no friends left, except
maybe the account a friend
set up for her dog.
Even then, he doesn’t
seem to be too cat friendly
and well, I am a crazy cat
lady.
I was discussing all of this
new-found discord with
Mama the other day and she
found it downright bizarre.
“Takes everyone working
together to make the world
go ‘round,” she said simply.
“My best friend was on the
totally opposite side of me
politically. It didn’t matter.
We were friends.”
“How did y’all not fight
about politics?” I asked.
“We didn’t discuss it. I
knew what party she voted,
and she knew the one I
voted,” Mama explained.
“We talked about our kids,
what y’all were doing, what
we were going to get for
dinner at work.”
In other words, they
focused on the things that
brought them together and
made them friends; not the
things that would tear them
apart.
I know I have let a lot of
the political hoopla get to
me over the recent years. It
used to not bother me and
was something I just polite
ly declined to participate in.
But it is hard to avoid
now. Everywhere we look,
we are being forced to have
an opinion, and to pick a
side.
Being passionate about
your beliefs and knowing
where you stand is impor
tant and probably as
American as apple pie.
However, alienating
someone because they have
a different opinion than you
is just wrong.
I thought about the person
that was unfriended.
The father of one of my
dearest friends for over 15
years.
And, no matter our differ
ent opinions on things, I
remembered the kindness
he extended us some 14
years ago that stays with
me. An offer that we didn’t
have to accept but it was
graciously offered and
appreciated.
He didn’t ask who we
were voting for, he didn’t
ask our opinions on matters
that now seem to cause deep
division among friends and
family.
He just knew people he
cared about may be in a pre
dicament where he could
offer some grace and com
passion.
It hurt my heart to think
someone had unfriended
him on some silly social
media platform because he
shared something that he
agreed with.
We used to seek to under
stand why someone liked
something we didn’t. When
my child was 4 if I had told
him I didn’t like something
he did, he would seek to
understand. Why didn’t I
like it? What, if anything,
did I like about it?
He wouldn’t call me
names and cut me out of his
life.
But that’s how we handle
things now. We want to shut
out those who disagree with
us even slightly.
And it only promises to
get worse.
“People are really going
to be fussing and fighting
and slinging mud,” Mama
warned as we talked about
the coming months.
“With the midterms?”
“No,” she said. “College
football.”
And that should be what
we really argue about.
Sudie Crouch is an award winning humor
columnist and author of the recently e-pub-
lished novel, "The Dahlman Files: A Tony
Dahlman Paranormal Mystery."
Glad to remember sweet Pauline when glancing down at my own hands
She just came to mind,
tripping through the years
that lay between now and
the time we buried her so
long ago.
Hers was a humble life
spent in a mountain house
that leaned, literally, toward
ramshackle with a tin roof
that was sturdy but rusting.
In their earlier years togeth
er, it had been simpler but
they had tacked on a bath
room, putting outhouse
days behind them, and the
modest kitchen was on the
front of the house framed
by a porch that was wel
coming yet heaving with
the exhaustion of its years.
At the kitchen table cov
ered by an oil cloth, there
was always food. A cake or
pie set, waiting for drop by
company, and on Sundays
the table was laden with a
■ '
RONDARICH
Columnist
bounty of food, fresh in the
summer from the backyard
garden. Fifteen or 20 peo
ple would drift in and out of
her kitchen on Sundays.
The ones who arrived early
would dip up a plate of hot
food. Those who straggled
in later would take the cloth
off the food, still arrayed on
the handmade table, and
help themselves. The food
set on that table from the
time she cooked until she
had put on her nightgown,
ran a brush through her
hair, and shuffled into the
kitchen to put it up.
Pauline was Daddy’s
cousin. Double first cous
ins, a term that Tink had
never heard until he moved
to the South.
“Double first cousins?
What’s that?” he asked.
“It’s when brothers marry
sisters,” I replied.
His eyes widened to
express incredulity.
“Honestly? People really do
that?”
I rolled my eyes and
shook my head. “Not
THAT way. It’s when a set
of brothers marry a set of
sisters. Their children are
first cousins on both sides,
so they’re double first cous
ins.”
This isn’t strange to me
because I knew of a lot of
double first cousins grow
ing up. With the exception
of one, J.C. Cannon,
Daddy’s favorite cousins
were double.
Practically every
Saturday, when Daddy
went to the farm to check
on his cows, he stopped by
to have coffee with Pauline.
Her granddaughter, Lynn,
was my closest cousin and
we grew up as pals, spend
ing many weekends togeth
er. Today, Lynn and her
husband always have a seat
at our Thanksgiving gather
ing.
The other day, Lynn sent
me a photo of Pauline
standing in front of that old
farmhouse where she and
Joe raised seven handsome
children who all went on to
make really good of their
lives. Sometimes, we run
into her son, Ed, at the Soda
Fountain and he always
moves me to tears for he is
the spitting image and size
of Daddy and he talks just
like him. One beauty of
double cousins is that it
really preserves the gene
pool.
“Now, that Ralph,” Ed
will say to Tink, “was a
really good ‘un. No finer
man ever lived, that’s for
sure.”
It’s at that point that I
always grab a napkin and
start dabbing my eyes. It’s
like hearing Daddy’s voice
talk about himself.
I guess it was the photo
that allowed Pauline to pop
into mind just now. I can
hear the husk of her tobac
co-coated voice, the deep
laugh that arose from her
plumpish belly and the light
that always danced from
her pale eyes even when
money was scarce and bills
were due. That was often.
Pauline had strong
Scotch-Irish looks, a color
ing that has dissipated
somewhat since sets of
brothers stopped marrying
sets of sisters. Red hair,
blue eyes, a fair complexion
covered with freckles on
her face, arms and legs.
Except for the eyes, I favor
her quite a bit. What started
all of this was that I glanced
down at my freckled cov
ered hands and realized that
they are identical to sweet
Pauline’s.
I like that the bloodline
was strong enough that a bit
of Pauline lives on in me.
Ronda Rich is the best-selling author of
Mark My Words: A Memoir of Mama. Visit
www.rondarich.com.
Photos by Jessica Brown Dawson County News
Members of the Dawson County Community Based Instruction program test
some of the new equipment at Veterans Memorial Park. A "cozy cocoon"
has been installed at the park so that children with autism and sensory pro
cessing disorders can have somewhere to go to calm down and self- regu
late symptoms of sensory overload.
FROM 1A
Playground
see that on the bottom of that sign over
there it’s a blessing to me,” Eason said.
“I know how her heart was and I know
what her faith was and I know what her
desires were. Her desires were to help
people not just people with developmen
tal disabilities but everybody.”
Nancy Eason had been involved with
the Cumming Civitan chapter since
2005 and with the Dawsonville chapter
since its inception in 2014.
“I think all of us need to remember
what Nancy mentioned to me...to be
there for other people, to help people, to
help people that need our help, and even
those that don’t need our help, reach out
and touch somebody,” Eason said.
Veterans Memorial Park is located at
186 Recreation Road in Dawsonville.
Members of Dawsonville Civitan, the Dawson County Chamber of
Commerce and the Dawson County Schools Exceptional Children program
gathered at Veterans Memorial Park for a ceremonial ribbon cutting at the
new inclusive playground Aug. 14.
ROCK CREEK PARK • 45 MARTIN ROAD • 8AM
REGISTER:
www.active.com (search Revenuers Run), Early
registration price is $25/5K.
Proceeds from the event go to support Kiwanis
Club of Dawson County’s mission of strengthening
our community and serving children.
PRESENTED BY:
Medical Plaza 400
