Newspaper Page Text
3arksoix Troqress-^rgus
J. D. JONES PUBLISHER
(1908-1955)
DOYLE JONES JR. Editor and
Publisher
Published every Thursday at 129 South Mulberry Street,
Jackson, Georgia 30233. Second Class Postage paid at Jack
son, Georgia 30233.
Address notice of undeliverable copies and other corre
spondence to The Jackson Progress-Argus, P. 0. Box 249,
Jackson, Georgia 30233.
NATIONAL NEWSPAPER
AtSOCUTIDW ritnM uTT
n..P, e „ggj SNA SUSTAINING
jjf MEMBER-1970
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Single Copy 10c
IT'S THIS WAY
BY DOYLE JONES JR.
Jest of the Week: An elderly housemaster at Harrow School in
England told a friend that as a young master, he had to cope with a
most unruly class. In despair he had exclaimed, “I don’t know what
to do with you boys,” and a voice had answered him, “Please, sir,
teach us.” The voice came from a chubby imp with carrot-colored
hair—Winston Churchill.
• • •
NEW YEAR’S DAY IN RETROSPECT
New Year’s Day was an exact replica of Christmas except for
the rain. It was cold, cloudy, threatening with a hint of rain, sleet,
snow, freezing rain or perhaps a general mixture of all. Fortunately
the precipitation never materialized in central Georgia.
It was an ideal day for the boob tube, that ungallant synonym
for television, that many are wont to use. With the cold wind
soughing through the pines it definitely was not a day for outdoor
activities. It was a day tailor made for parades, bowl games, and
the like—if they could be viewed from the comfort of one’s den or
living room.
Now, only one thing was wrong in our paradise. Our color set
had been on the fritz for about two months. We lost one of the
colors and for several weeks all pictures had a greenish tint, a sickly
looking, bilious green that I stood for several weeks and after long
suffering, 1 finally called a serviceman to come and take a look.
He did, tinkered for a few minutes, pronounced it fixed, a declara
tion that brought much joy to Martha, me and the cats. He, the
serviceman, was back at his shop only about 15 minutes when lo
and behold the color reverted back to its former troubled status,
only this time everything was cast in a reddish, purple hue that had
all fares bathed in a ghastly heliotrope. Since 1 preferred the pur
plish cast to the green, and fearing that things could get worse, I
hesitated to call the serviceman for a return visit. After all, we had
become accustomed to the hideous colors. They would drive anyone
else crazy.
So with that preamble, 1 bravely turned on the set about 10
a. m. Thursday morning to view the preview of the Rose Howl Pa
rade. The live parade came on about 11 and in came Martha, Beau
and Doll. Boots was AWOL and was probably living it up with one
of his girl friends. Or else the rascal hnd a hangover from milk that
someone had spiked.
We set up a card table in the den so as not to miss a minute.
Don’t people do crazy things? Martha whomped up some sandwiches
and hot chocolate and we nibbled while we viewed. Beau and Doll
disdained the video happenings to catch up on some much needed
snoozing.
Finally and interminably the parade was over. Oh happy day!
Gleefully and thankfully I tuned in the Sugar Bowl and watched
it for a few minutes uninterruptedly. But in a few minutes the Cotton
Bowl became airborne and there 1 was, sitting about two feet from
the set on my haunches, turning and twisting the dials like a madman
so that 1 would not miss a touchdown. And miss one I didn’t, thanks
to good fortune and one replay.
I became so engrossed in Archie Manning’s dramatic heroics as
he led Mississippi to a sensational upset over Arkansas that 1 darn
near missed Notre Dame's first touchdown and field goal. Had it
not been for Ole Miss the SEC would have been shut out in the bowl
mis-matches. Georgia, Auburn and Alabama all took it on the chin
and suffered TKO’S at the hands of Nebraska, Houston and Colo
rado, respectively. Florida defeated a Tennessee team that strangely
went down hill after the middle of the season, and slipped so badly
that the SEC championship was a hollow victory indeed.
Texas proved its mettle by twice coming from behind to defeat
a Notre Dame team that was primed for battle and that had come
to play. The Longhorns are number one in my book.
The Rose Bowl game was dull and poorly played. Penn State
defeated Missouri in a comedy of errors, mostly Missouri's, in the
Orange Bowl.
Shortly after 10 o’clock New Year’s night we turned off the
boob tube after more than 12 hours of continuous viewing. Archie
Manning and his mates made the day for me. He is the greatest
and should be a shoo-in for the Heisman Award next year.
So at 10:28 p. m. January 1, 1970, Anno Domini, with bleary
eyes, a sore behind, cramped muscles, and asleep on my feet, I finally
TELEPHONE 775-3107
OFFICIAL ORGAN
BUTTS COUNTY AND
CITY OF JACKSON
THE JACKSON PROGRESS-ARGUS, JACKSON, GEORGIA
Guest Editorial
THE ATLANTA CONSTITUTION
THE AIRPORT
All the votes are in on the site of the new Atlanta
airport, but the veto remains unused.
Experts of several persuasions say it would be bet
ter to locate the airport in Henry County, rather than
in north Fulton County. On the basis of their evi
dence, we are inclined to agree.
Veto power is held, however, by the airline car
riers. They must supply the money and thus have the
right to make the final decision on the location.
If they have legitimate opposition to the Henry
County site, the public needs to know. There may be
factors which have not been considered that only air
line executives would be in position to know. But we
think it is time they outlined such factors.
Otherwise, the construction
should begin. The report by the
consulting firm of R. Dixon Speas
and Assoociates holds out an ex
citing prospect. It is that an air
port center should be located
somewhere away from the exist
ing airport and the new one. Pas
sengers would drive up and park.
They would check into the center.
They would be speeded to the
right airport by a 100-mile-per
hour rapid transit system.
Such a plan makes eminently
good sense to us. For one of the
major problems to be solved is
how to get passengers from one
airport to the other. By using the
high-speed transit lines, that
problem would be virtually elimi
nated.
Prompt action becomes an im
perative when the future projec
tions are studied. Growth will be
so phenomenal that we cannot af
ford to wait.
We need to know where the
objections are. If there are none,
let’s build the best international
airport in the country.
had the good sense to conclude the great American pastime of tele
vision watching and repaired to my couch where visions of sugar
plums by no means danced through my head. But I did sleep well,
surprisingly!
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DAI PHONE ?;SM24 U JACKSON.'GA
H.&M. WHOLESALE
LUMBER & SUPPLY
113 N. OAK STREET
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775-2358
PERSONAL
Mr. and Mrs. Vance Ray and
family moved last week from At
lanta into the home formerly oc
cupied by Mr. and Mrs. David
Deraney on East Third Street.
Mr. and Mrs. Kenneth G. Par
rish Sr. and children, Kenneth
Jr. and Linda, moved to Jackson
December 31st from Griffin to
take up residence here in their
attractive new home at 126 Fay
Street in the Garden Hills Sub
division. Mr. Parrish is employed
at the Georgia Diagnostic and
Classification Center. The family
is being welcomed to Jackson.
Mr. and Mrs. Dan Blake of
Macon visited briefly Saturday
morning with Mr. and Mrs. Doyle
Jones Jr. while on a business trip
to Jackson and Butts County.
Miss Gail Carter has returned
to Tift College and Johnny Car
ter to Southern Tech after spend
ing the holidays with their moth
er, Mrs. J. W. Carter.
‘Whatsoever Things’
BY DONALD E. WILDMON
TRYING AGAIN
One day many years ago several members of
a college math class were called to the board to
work a problem. One young man went up to begin
work on the problem, only to make a mistake at
the very beginning. Despite the fact that he
worked the rest of the problem correctly, he came
out with the wrong answer because he had made
the mistake at the start.
A Sermon
The professor walked to the front of the room after the students
had sat down and began going over the problems that the students
had worked on. When he came to the one in which the young man
had made a mistake at the beginning, he turned to the class and
asked a question. “How many of you gentlemen are ministerial stu
dents?” A few hands went up. “Gentlemen,” he continued, “here is
a sermon for you. This young man forgot to square at the beginning
of the problem. And while the rest of the problem is worked cor
rectly all the way through, he came out with the wrong answer.
Here’s the sermon: you leave something undone that you should do
at the beginning of life, and the answer will come out wrong at the
end of life.’ r
Then the professor picked up
the eraser from the chalk board
and turned to face the class
again. “Gentlemen,” he said,
“here is another sermon.” He
then proceeded to erase the entire
problem from the answer working
backward. When he came to the
place where the mistake had been
made, he erased that part, picked
up the chalk, and wrote the cor
rect numbers in. Then he turned
to the young student and
preached his second sermon. “Try
again,” he said.
Because of the Galilean, that’s
the way we can approach life.
The simple sermon preached by
that college professor has been
experienced countless times since
the Carpenter first told His fish
ermen about the forgiveness of
the Creator. It would be an im
possible task to find the number
of men and women who have
come to the end of a problem in
life only to find they had the
wrong answer. Then, with heads
bowed and ashame, they hear
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that grand Master of men speak
those two words: “Try again.”
Why He Came
Another chance. Anew start.
A clean blackboard. Isn’t that one
reason He came into our world
like He did? To wipe the board
clean when we forget to square?
Many have experienced that sense
of starting again. For them it
opened the doors that seemed
shut forever.
There are two tragedies in
volved here. One is that many
refuse to admit that they made
a mistake. They like to work the
problem by their own rules. They
accept no other criteria of judg
ment than their own. And, of
course, if you never make a mis
take you have no need to correct
it. The second tragedy is that
those who finally are willing to
admit the error fail to let the
supreme Professor wipe the board
clean, correct their error, and
say to them, “Try again.”
The Father knew that humans
THURSDAY, JANUARY 8, 1970
Jos. J. Sutton,
Butts Native,
Died Friday
Mr. Joseph Jackson Sutton,
80, died at his residence, 103
Johnson Street, Barnesville, Fri
day afternoon.
Mr. Sutton was a native of
Butts County and had lived in
Barnesville many years. He was a
retired carpenter.
Funeral services were conduc
ted Sunday afternoon from the
First Pentecostal Holiness Church
with the Rev. Keith Hearn offi
ciating. Burial was in Greenwood
Cemetery with Haisten Funeral
Home of Barnesville in charge of
arrangements.
Survivors include his wife, Mrs.
Hattie Pressley Sutton; three
daughters, Mrs. Louise Sutton of
Macon, Mrs. Myrtle Johnson of
Montgomery, Ala., Mrs. Virginia
Bunn of Barnesville; two sons,
Charlie Joe Sutton of Macon and
David Hugh Sutton of Barnes
ville; one brother, C. G. Sutton;
a daughter-in-law, Mrs. Milton
Pritchett of Barnesville; a step
son, Arthur J. Jordan of Augus
ta; three step-daughters, Mrs.
Beulah Brinkley and Mrs. Ruthie
Mae Woodruff of Barnesville and
Mrs. Edna Perry of Los Angeles,
California; 12 grandchildren; 22
great-grandchildren.
CARD OF THANKS
I wish to thank all those neigh
bors and friends who were so
thoughtful of my husband and me
during his illness, while in the
hospital,, and at the time of his
death. Especially do I want to
thank Dr. Ross, the nurses and
staff at Sylvan Grove Hospital
for their services and kindness.
Every experssion of love and con
cern was appreciated.—Mrs. W.
M. Gallman.
so many times need another
chance. That’s one reason He
sent His Son. So we could “Try
again.”—FlVE STAR