Newspaper Page Text
The Lee County Ledger, Wednesday, July 2, 2008, Page 11B
Hold The
Submitted Photo
Pictured left to right are Hannah Melvin and
Dana Lambert.
Natural Resources
Conservation Workshop
Special to the Ledger
The 47th annual Natural
Resources Conservation
Workshop was held June 8th
through June 12th, 2008.
It was hosted by Abraham
Baldwin Agricultural Col
lege in Tifton, Georgia.
The Workshop has gradu
ated approximately 11,410
graduates over the years and
was enjoyed this year by 159
Georgia high school stu
dents. Students came from
throughout Georgia and at
tended the week’s activities
of field trips and classroom
functions with opportunities
to earn college scholarships
at the end of the week.
Workshop Director Dennis
Brooks said “this is an ex
cellent opportunity for high
school students interested in
our environment and natural
resources. Students learn the
importance of conserving
our natural resources and
the vital role these resources
play in our daily life for
future generations to come.
Many students make deci
sions toward a career or area
of study in college because
of their involvement in this
Workshop”.
The tuition of most
students was sponsored
locally by businesses and
organizations through the
local Soil and Water Con
servation Districts. Hannah
Melvin and Dana Lambert
attended this year’s Work
shop and was sponsored by
Brad Lanier Oil Company
and McCleskey Mills, Inc
through the Lower Chat
tahoochee River Soil and
Water Conservation District.
Local Soil and Water Con
servation District Supervi
sors in Lee County are F. H.
(Pete) Griffith and Charles
Usry Jr.
Quizzes were given on
the last day of the workshop
which covered the core
subjects. Thirteen college
scholarships worth $17,500
with $425 cash and plaques
were given to students with
the highest scores. Hannah
Melvin from Lee County
won a scholarship for hav
ing the highest score in the
soil and water conservation
division.
Special to the Ledger
By Donna King
I have heard some hor
ror stories about flying, but
the worst story I ever heard
of happened to our dog,
Roscoe. In 1967 we were
living at the Naval Shipyard
in Boston, where my father,
Jerry Tauber, a Captain
in the Marine Corps, was
stationed. It was planned
that my mother, Joanne,
sister Lisa, and I would fly to
Georgia for our vacation at
the close of the school year.
My father would drive down
to join us later that summer
and we would all drive back
before school began in the
fall. This story is about our
trip to visit my grandparents
in Lee County...
Most people go their whole
life never having been on an
airplane. Since my Dad was
a Marine many of our trips
to visit my grandparents in
Leesburg began at airports.
In fact, as far back as I can
remember we have always
been Jet Setters. Unfortu
nately our dog Roscoe wasn’t
a Setter at all. He was what
you call a Sooner, which is a
polite way of saying he didn’t
know who his daddy was.
Roscoe was a medium
sized dog - about a 40
pounder, give or take a
pound. He was black, with
tan highlights over his eyes
and on his feet, and a lift
tuft of white hair on his
chest. His ears were long and
floppy and he looked very
much like a black and tan
coonhound only smaller.
We didn’t buy Roscoe at a
pet store. He wasn’t the pick
of the litter from a friend’s
dog that recently had pup
pies. He wasn’t in anyway a
planned pet. He just showed
up one day at our door on
Stony Brook Drive in Mari
etta, Georgia in 1965 and
Jenkins Supermarket
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squirmed his way into our
family. In no time the little
black puppy with floppy ears
was not only accepted as a
Tauber, but had worked his
way up the pecking order and
outranked my sister and me.
Roscoe traveled well, and
so he was included on all
family excursions. He would
go to the beach with us in
North Carolina. A trip to
the Dairy Queen garnered
Roscoe his own little cup
of ice cream. Mother would
hold his cup while he greed
ily licked away. The cold ice
cream always gave him a
doggy-brain freeze, send
ing him to a sneezing frenzy
until it passed.
Roscoe may have been on
the smallish size, but he had
been trained from early on
to “Protect the bone!” (Milk
Bones were his favorite treat
and when he had one he
would bristle up and growl
if you so much as looked his
way.) Of course we worried
him constantly and thought
it was a great game, until we
got bit.
Roscoe respected my
father and accepted him as
the alpha male of the house.
Roscoe tolerated my sister
and me to take him for walks
or rub his belly, and he was
always your best friend at
dinnertime. But he loved
my mother. He followed
her everywhere and would
have fought a grizzly bear
to protect her. It also goes
without saying Roscoe was
mama’s baby, so whenever
he growled at us, or bit us
for getting too close to that
darn bone, she would snap,
“leave the dog alone!” Lisa
and I fiercely protested, “But
I didn’t do anything! I was
only walking by him and HE
bit ME!” She never bought
our pleas of innocence and
our demands to punish Ros
coe went ignored.
With every knock at the
door Roscoe would charge,
ready for battle with whom
ever or whatever lay on the
other side - Freddy Kruger,
The Wolf Man, Frankenstein,
or the Girl Scout selling
cookies. They were all the
same to Roscoe. They were
the enemy, there to harm
my mother, and he was her
last line of defense; a fierce
fighter with the heart of a
lion. That all changed they
day we arrived at Logan In
ternational Airport in Boston
to begin our trip and Roscoe
saw what lay ahead. He
went into Vet-mode and was
reduced to a whimpering ball
of fur with his tail tucked
in tightly. We all thought he
was such a sissy. The cage
was sturdy and the flight
wasn’t really that long, so
we’d be in Atlanta in no time,
but I’m sure we’d have felt
different if we were riding in
that cage.
Mother, Lisa, and I flew
in luxury compared to what
Roscoe must have endured.
It wasn’t long into our flight
when I first heard it - a faint
bark? After a minute or so, I
heard it again, I was sure! “I
hear Roscoe,” I announced.
Mother told me I was mis
taken. She assured me Ros
coe was fine and it was just
my imagination. “I tell you,
I heard Roscoe barking,” I
persisted.
Mama finally summoned
a Stewardess and told her,
“Excuse me, but my daughter
says she hears Roscoe bark
ing.” The stewardess looked
puzzled and asked hesitantly,
as if she really didn’t want to
know the answer, “Who?”
“Roscoe! Our dog,” Mama
told her. “Oh” replied the
stewardess. “No, I’m sure
you are mistaken. Your dog
is fine.”
“See”, Mama told me,
“there is nothing wrong with
Roscoe. Here, chew some
gum. Your ears must still be
stopped up.”
Well, I would know that
bark anywhere, and I knew I
Plane!!!!!
heard Roscoe barking. What
I didn’t hear was the man at
the other end of the plane ask
his wife, “Did you hear a dog
bark?”
We finally landed in
Atlanta where there would
be a short layover until our
flight to Albany. Then we
overheard some of the airline
people talking about a dog
on the flight and a broken
cage. “I told you I heard Ros
coe barking!” I said smugly,
but was ignored. Mother was
in full alert and made a bee
line to where the men were.
Lisa and I had to run-walk
to keep up. After a short
conversation with mother,
they asked us to follow them
and we did.
We finally reached the car
go area and knew something
was wrong when we saw the
broken cage. A portion of
the top was crushed and the
front mesh wire had been
“breached”. Then we saw
him. Roscoe was alive! He
was out of the cage with an
old piece of rope tied to his
neck as a makeshift leash. To
make matters worse, he had
sustained a small cut over
his eye.
Well, you wouldn’t think it
to look at her now (I swear
she is shrinking), but Mama
was once a formidable op
ponent. Right then in that
airport she was a sight to
behold. “What the hell hap
pened to my dog?!” Lisa
and I watched closely as
mama fussed. “What do you
mean you don’t have another
cage!” Mama snapped at the
Eastern Airlines Representa
tive.
“Yes ma’am, it seems a
baggage shift caused one of
the crates to slide and hit the
dog’s cage, damaging it. We
are trying to locate one in
the size you need, but your
connection is almost ready
to board. Your dog will be
perfectly safe with us and
will be sent out on the next
available flight.”
“Let me tell you something
right now, Mister,” Mama
had her finger pointing at the
man. “We are not leaving
here without the dog, see.
I’m here to tell you now that
you better figure something
out quick, because we’re
not leaving the dog and that
plane’s not leaving without
us!”
The airport employee tried
to assure Mother they would
see what they could do, but
he didn’t think it would be
possible. That’s when my
mother “made him under
stand”. “Looky here, we’ll all
be on Huntley and Brinkley
tonight, because, I swear,
that plane is not leaving
without all of us and I’ll put
each of them under a wheel
before I let it take off!”
It took a second for it to
sink in. I was puzzled, trying
to figure out who was she go
ing to.... OH NO!! Lisa and
I had been enjoying the show
until then and we looked
wide-eyed at each other. We
didn’t say a word but com
municated our feelings plain
as day! We ran to the big
airport window and looked
at the giant jet, then at the
huge wheels. Our mouths
opened wide and eyes pop
ping, we looked from the
plane to mother then back
to the plane. I do believe
the foundation for each and
every future line and wrinkle
in our foreheads were set that
day. In fact now, when Lisa
raises her eyebrows in an
amazed expression, she looks
just like a Klingon from Star
Trek!
As we prayed silently
for a suitable cage, mama
continued her rage against
the airline. Her lips were a
thin, strained spaghetti line
across her face. And oh, her
eyes!! They never blinked
and could have burned a hole
through a hunk of steel. The
little man from the airlines
got the picture. She meant
ever word she said. Yeah,
buddy, tell me something I
don’t know.
“Wait right here,” he said.
His confident ‘I’m in charge’
look was gone. He turned
and barked orders at others
nearby. In a short time he
returned and asked us to fol
low him. Mama in the lead,
with Roscoe heeling per
fectly by her side, we strode
through the airport. Roscoe
even “marked” him out some
new territory along the way.
The airline people brought
out a cage large enough to
hold a Shetland pony for
Roscoe. He didn’t even mind
much and the whole inci
dent was soon forgotten and
erased forever from the short
memory slate of Roscoe’s
doggy mind.
We continued our trip and
had a wonderful summer
on the farm. Days Lisa and
me spent with our cousin,
Laura Lea, riding in the back
of Papa’s truck all over the
farm. Feeding cows, wad
ing in the branch, or playing
with the dogs and cats - we
loved every minute. Roscoe
of course had his paws full
trying to protect my mother
from some unseen danger
or was having to be dragged
back from one of the tenant
houses on the farm. Seemed
he found a girlfriend to oc
cupy his time.
Finally the days of this
trip came to a close and we
had to load up the car for the
long drive back to Boston.
We said goodbye to cousins,
aunts, uncles, and Lala and
Papa, who we would miss
most of all.
Residents Named
To Samford
Dean’s List
Specicd to the Ledger
Many Georgia residents
were named to the Dean’s
List for the spring semester
at Samford University.
Leesburg residents named
to the Dean’s list include;
Meghan Elizabeth Allen,
daughter of Dr. and Mrs.
William C. Allen.
Albany residents named to
the Dean’s list include; Kelly
Nicole Johnson, daughter
of Mr. and Mrs. Johnny
Johnson; and Kristin Diane
McDuffie, daughter of Mr.
and Mrs. John McDuffie.
Americus residents named
to the Dean’s list include;
Mitchell Glenn Greene, son
of Mr. and Mrs. Douglas G.
Greene.
To qualify for the honor,
a student must have earned
a minimum 3.5 grade point
average out of a possible 4.0
while attempting at least 12
credit hours of coursework.
The Dean’s List is the high
est academic recognition
given by the school at the
end of each semester.
Samford, Alabama’s largest
privately supported college
or university, enrolls 4,485
students from 49 states and
27 foreign nations.
Solution to Sudoku Puzzle
from page 7B
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