Newspaper Page Text
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J. D. Jones Publisher
(1908-1955
Doyle Jones Jr. Editor and Publisher
(1955-1975)
MRS. MARTHA G. JONES PUBLISHER
VINCENT JONES EDITOR
Published every Thursday at 129 South Mulberry Street, Jackson,
Georgia 30233 by The Progress-Argus Printing Cos., Inc. Second Class
Postage paid at Jackson, Georgia 30233.
Address notice of undeliverable copies and other correspondence
to The Jackson Progress-Argus, P.O. Box 249, Jackson, Georgia 30233.
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Editorials
Our Nation Is Still Young
For those of us who have
reached middle age, or older, and
look back across the years to our
ancestors and their heritage, it
doesn’t seem the nation is quite as
old as its present cares and
burdens would make it appear.
Charlie Smith, a Negro living
in Orlando, Florida, is generally
conceded to be the oldest living
American. He is a native of Liberia
and was captured and brought to
New Orleans in 1854 as a slave at
the age of 12.
Charlie Smith was born in 1842,
Less, Jimmy, Not More
Among those who look with
misgivings upon Jimmy Carter
being president are many who fear
his worst failures will come in the
organization structure of the
bureauracy he will govern.
The veiled hint that he would
do away with hundreds of non
essential federal agencies holds
promise, it is true, but anxiety
persists as to what monster he
might create in their place.
Absorbing thousands of federal
employees into a reorganized
system headed by a few super
structured agencies, and then
creating another echelon of
top-paid executives to ride herd on
the existing tier of federal
executives may be a popular idea
with the Carter job-seekers, but
A Sober Thought At 200
The public’s conception of an
editorial writer pecking away at
his typewriter in his private ivory
tower, sucking on his pipe, while
pondering the serious issues facing
the people and preparing to solve
them all in 300 words or less is
rather ludicrous.
More often than not, he dashes
off his weighty tomes in public view
under constant surveillance and
endless interruption or, at home,
his deepest thoughts are broken by
a request for garbage take-out, or a
cat or dog curling up on his
typewriter table, or a television
program so entrancing it demands
investigation, or any of the endless
complexities that make family life
so constantly inconstant.
The advertising copy writer,
working against deadlines and
writing to please someone else
other than himself, knows the same
frustrations. But occasionally
he pens a thought, or probes deeply
into a national problem in a few
well-chosen words that any
editorialist would envy. Consider
this advertisement written for
Warner & Swasey, a machine
Advance Subscription Rates, Tax Included:
TELEPHONE 775-3107
OFFICIAL ORGAN
BUTTS COUNTY AND
CITY OF JACKSON
Six Months $3.91
Single Copy 15c
only 66 years after this nation had
declared its freedon. He was
almost 20 years old when the Civil
War broke out.
He remains in relatively good
health at a nursing home and was
recently the subject of a newspaper
interview.
With such living links to the
past, George Washington, Thomas
Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin
don’t seem to be buried quite so
deeply in the dim, dark, distant
days of long ago.
makes no sense to anyone else.
His critics point to his failure to
save the State of Georgia money in
a reorganization program that he
promised would save 60 million
dollars.
The answer, simply, is less, not
more. The general public wants
less government, because it can’t
afford to pay the bill for the
government it has now.
Any president who comes into
office with any idea of enlarging
the already bloated federal
bureauracy is bucking for a one
term and, the opinion here is, will
get it.
Give us less, Jimmy, not more.
And the American people will rise
up and give you not only thanks,
but many terms.
manufacturer from Cleveland,
Ohio.
“How much Federal Aid did
the Pilgrims get?
They were in a Depressed
Area. No one guaranteed them high
prices for anything. Their only
roads and schools were built by
themselves. For Security they did
their own saving, or starved.
All they had was Character. All
they did was Work. All they wanted
was Self Respect.
The sum of those three traits
became America.
But what’s going to be the sum
of the traits you see today—the
traits of character, or, rather lack
of it, that demand more money for
less work, put security above
self-respect, pamper self-pitying
criminals instead of punishing
them, give away resources we
desperately need to protect
ourselves, listen to weaklings that
want government to take care of
them when they should take care of
themselves.
Long years of early-American
self-respect and hard work built
America, but the traits you see
today can destroy it, in half the
time.”
THE JACKSON PROGRESS-ARGUS, JACKSON, GEORGIA
The Last
Straw
BY
VINCENT JONES
(Editor’s Note: This re
print of a Last Straw written
on June 21, 1956 would seem
to have even more applica
bility to today’s world.)
All over the country, down
the wandering dusty roads
that lead aimlessly to
nowhere, the mute skeletal
remains of once proud homes
speak wordless tributes of
better days.
Now, rotting weatherboard
hangs loosely below the
sagging roof and chimney
rocks rest precariously atop
their high perch, their
weakened mortar joints no
longer patched by caring
hands.
In the yards, the long
retarded weeds are enjoying
their grand fling at growth as
a few hardy iris remember
with blooms the gentle hands
that nurtured them.
The forest creeps in and
the wild cherry thrusts its
boughs through the kitchen
window and the heavily laden
limbs of the china berry peek
into the back door with a
growing curiosity.
An unhinged front door
opens into a room whose
riddled floor is heavy with
the debris of time, wood bark
and cottonseed and broken
picture frames and dirty
rags and rusty cans.
The half-white hearth,
whose fires warmed ten
thousand nights, still tells of
the oak and hickory and
applewood that lit the room
with brilliant flame and filled
the house with aromatic
smoke.
For every sad tale told by a
decaying homestead, there is
a human tragedy just as
poignant.
Where did they go, those
who built so well with their
own hands that decades later
their homes still stand?
Does a house really die as a
result of the erosion of time,
wind, sun and rain or does it
cease to be a house when its
doors no longer swing open to
the laughter of little children
and its roof at night hears not
the prayers of righteous
people on the way to God.
Forging his future with a
plowshare, staking his fate
on a wife, a mule and a cow,
these homes were built by
men with unbounded faith in
themselves and in God who
strengthened them to accom
plish every needed task.
Poverty drove them from
the farm. Nothing less than a
world-shattering tragedy will
drive them back. Nothing
less than a nation whose
cities have been destroyed by
a nuclear blast and whose
people must turn once more
to the weed field and the
forests for their sustenance.
Greater even than the
economic loss of the family
farm is the human loss. No
community can ever be the
same after it loses families
with the gritty determination
and self assurance of those
who could envision wheat
fields growing where pine
forests thrived.
The farmer’s rugged inde
pendence, his rock-ribbed
honesty, his spiritual
strength, his sterling quali
ties of thrift and hard work
and tolerance for his fellow
man cannot be withdrawn
from a community or state
without weakening it.
All across the county, and
the state, the old homesteads
rot away. Does their decay
signal the erosion of some of
the basic and fundamental
qualities that made this
nation great, or can we be
great materially, without
considering the human and
spiritual?
Only time will answer that
question but the crime-breed
ing depths of the city’"
asphalt jungles and the
paternalistic cradle-to-grave
hand-out programs of the
federal government are
robbing our people of their
self-reliance and weakening
their moral fiber.
In the name of progress,
are our people dying along
with their old homesteads?
-0 -
'TV
A Stroll Down
Memory Lane
News of 10 Years Ago
Dr. Randolph Long, Jack
son druggist, has been
installed as president of the
Butts County Jaycees. Other
officers are Wayne Phillips,
Ist vice-president; Carl Fin
ney - 2nd vice-president;
Denny O’Neal, secretary,
and Charles Harper, treas
urer.
A stubborn blaze late
Monday afternoon seriously
damaged the building and
contents of the Gateway
Luggage Company, Inc.
plant on the East Jackson
industrial site.
Three Jackson students
made the Honors List at
‘Wesleyan College. They are
Mary Lane Carr, Linda
Harrison and Karen Garr.
Elbert Long correctly
guessed the weight of the hog
given away annually by Polk
Tire Company. Elbert guess
ed exactly 226 pounds and
won the hog. Larry Hodges
and Linda King both guessed
the porker’s weight at 225
pounds and 14 ounces. Over
1,200 entered the contest.
Deaths during the week:
Claude Jeptha Spencer, 71, of
McDonough.
News of 20 Years Ago
Butts County’s 1956 grain
crop, almost completely
harvested and stored, should
have a market value of over
$250,000, according to County
Agent B. B. Campbell.
Butts County’s community
canning plant, located in the
old City jail building on North
Oak Street, will begin
operation on July 5 and will
be open on Tuesday and
Thursdays until the season
ends. J. M. L. Comer will be
in charge of the plant’s
operation.
Jackson Kiwanis Club
members voted Tuesday
night to release Scout Island
from the jurisdiction of the
club.
Miss Ellen Payne cele
brated her sixth birthday
Saturday with a party at the
home of her parents, Mr. and
Mrs. James Payne.
Deaths during the week:
W. Edgar Grant, 67; Howell
Thompson, 36; Mrs. L. P.
McKibben, Jr., of McDon
ough.
News of 30 Years Ago
The Jackson plant of the
Pomona Products Company
is tooling up to can peaches
this summer, to be followed
by pimiento peppers in late
summer and early fall.
Butts County has been
awarded $62,000 to pave two
miles of Hwy. 36 to Covington
and construct a bridge over
Yellow Water Creek. This
will still leave about 10 miles
unpaved to the Newton
County line.
In a letter to the editor, R.
N. Etheridge reports that he,
Bill Merritt and Paul Byars
caught bream in one day. He
also reports they caught
more red bugs than fish, that
some of the fish got away but
none of the red bugs.
Lieut. Elwyn V. Patrick
has reported for active duty
at the Brooke Army Medical
Center at Fort Sam Houston,
Texas.
Deaths during the week:
Mrs. Emma Bowles, 75;
Mrs. Minnie Mangham
Jones, 67, and Robert Gipson
Strickland, 87.
News of 40 Years Ago
Donald Maddox, son of Mr.
and Mrs. H. A. Maddox, of
Atlanta, formerly of Butts
County, died Monday from
injuries sustained Sunday in
a dive into shallow water at
THURSDAY, JUNE 24, 1976
the Indian Spring swimming
pool. Donald was 15.
The Rev. E. L. Daniel was
greeted by a large crowd
Sunday for his first sermon in
the Jackson Presbyterian
Church after receiving a call
from the Jackson, Fellow
ship and Bethany Presby
terian churches.
Mrs. Lucy Jordan, of
Monticello, announces the
marriage of her daughter,
Frances, to Butler J. Smith,
of Flovilla.
At the Princess Theater—
“Ah, Wilderness” with Wal
lace Berry and Lionel
Barrymore and “The Kid
Ranger” with Bob Steele.
Carmichael Drug Com
pany is installing anew
streamline soda fountain.
Deaths during the week:
Mrs. J. P. Ray, 46 and J. A.
Leverette, of McDonough.
News of 50 Years Ago
Jacksonians were to vote
June 29 on a $13,000 bond
issue to pave the court house
square and streets to the city
limits. Editor James Doyle
Jones, Sr. wrote an impas
sioned editorial in support of
the bond issue.
O. A. Pound reported that
the Jackson Kiwanis Club led
all the entire Georgia
delegation to the Montreal,
Canada International Con
vention. Accompanying him
were W. A. Dozier, E, R.
Edwards and J. W. O’Neal.
H. S. Martin, of Jackson,
Route 4, reported a cotton
bloom on June 22. This was 10
days later than last season,
when Mr. Martin brought in
the first bloom on June 10th.
The annual meeting of the
Sixth District Medical Asso
ciation was held Wednesday
in the Foy Hotel at Indian
Springs. Dr. K. F. White, of
Flovilla, is president of the
Association this year.
Carmichael-Mallet Cos. had
men’s seersucker suits for
$4.95.
Deaths during the week:
Lucius B. Thompson, 46,
proprietor of the Depot Store.
j j
I read with a great deal of
interest the article written by
Furman Bisher in the June
17th issue of the evening
paper of the large city just
north of us. Such clap-trap
should be good for another
athletic scholarship to an
other of Bisher’s children.
Ralph W. Carr, Jr.
TO THE EDITOR
The tragedy that took the
life of my daughter in law,
brings home to me the way
that our American life is
changing. She was shot by a
.38 Pistol in the hands of
someone who was frightened
and hadn’t been trained in
the use of hand guns.
Because of this a young life
was snuffed out, and a
daughter-in-law is gone that I
will never get to know,
grandchildren that I will
never see. If only we could
live in a world where we
wouldn’t be afraid of things
that go bump in the night.
I met a young woman at
Warm Springs who kept a
gun in her sewing box. She
was just getting a thimble
and it went off, she is
paralyzed for life.
Every day hand guns kill
wives, husbands, children
and neighbors, but very
seldom do I hear of burglars,
rapists or terrorists being
shot. Not saying anyone
should be. What I am trying
to say is look through your
f^JIRURRI
By Mrs. Cindy Brown
LETTERS
Although I have always
written my own column, I
have sometimes found or
been given excerpts from
articles in other papers
which I think are usually
good.
The following three letters
were in Ann Lander’s column
in the Atlanta Journal edition
of September 26. The three
notations were written by
parents to their children. I
think you’ll find them quite to
the point and very accurate.
Dear First Born: I’ve
always loved you best
because you were our first
miracle. You were the
genesis of a marriage and
the fulfillment of young love.
You sustained us through
the hamburger years, the
first apartment (furnished in
Early Poverty), our first
mode of transportation (1955
Feet), and the 7-inch TV we
paid on for 36 months.
You were new, had unused
grandparents, and enough
clothes for a set of triplets.
You were the original model
for a mom and a dad who
were trying to work the bugs
out.
You were the beginning.
Dear Middle Child: I’ve
always loved you best
because you drew a tough
spot in the family and it
made you stronger for it.
You cried less, had more
patience, wore faded hand
me-downs, and never in your
life did anything first. But it
only made you more special.
You were the one we relaxed
with and realized a dog could
kiss you and you wouldn’t get
sick. You could cross a street
by yourself long before you
were old enough to get
married.
You were the child of our
busy, ambitious years. With
out you we never could have
survived the job changes and
the tedium and routine that is
marriage.
To The Baby: I’ve always
loved you best because while
endings are generally sad,
you are such a joy. You
readily accepted the milk
stained bibs, the lower bunk,
the cracked baseball bat, the
baby book that had nothing
written in it except a recipe
for graham cracker piecrust.
You are the one we held
onto so tightly. You are the
link with our past, a reason
for tomorrow. You darken
our hair, quicken our steps,
square our shoulders, restore
our vision, and give us a
sense of humor that security,
maturity and durability can’t
provide.
When your hairline takes
on the shape of Lake Erie and
your own children tower over
you, you will still be our
baby.
home and put guns where
people who don’t know how to
use them can’t get at them,
put triggerlocks on all guns.
Please don’t let this death
be in vain, check your home
for these dangers - The life
you save will be someone
ruth ot random
By Ruth Bryant
DAD’S DAY
“Do I have to have a day?”
I can hear my Daddy say!
“Sure, we want to make a fuss
‘Cause you mean so much to us
Every day, we’re really glad
That we have you,
dear old Dad”!
CHURCH
How long has it been since
you attended church on
Sunday?
I have heard so many
people say that they just
don’t need to go to
"church there’re fust too
many hypocrites there.
Webster’s definition of a
hypocrite is this: hypocrite,
one who pretends to be pious,
virtuous, etc. without really
being so. Now I ask you, isn’t
the person who stays at home
just as much a hypocrite as
some of the ones he so
accuses?
Why, he is pretending to be
so virtuous that he doesn’t
even need to worship with
others! Christians are not
perfect people: they are
believers in Jesus. They have
to struggle everyday to
overcome temptation.
Smart? Yes, I think they are;
they have enough common
sense to realize that because
they are not strictly self-dis
ciplined, they need to
worship in an atmosphere of
quiet and God-filled love.
People can receive so
much fulfillment by attend
ing the Sunday services. I
know that when I take part, I
leave with such a warm and
happy feeling when the time
is over.
Some folks say that they
just can’t sit through a
worship service they
claim the preacher is too
long-winded or that the choir
sings too many specials.
However, you’ll find many of
the same folks sitting
through 4 hours of Sunday
afternoon football with nary
a complaint.
Why don’t you go to church
this Sunday? Why you and
the hypocrites might even be
able to get along together
peaceably.
CLUTTERED DESKS
Most of the busiest folks I’ve
seen
do not always have desks so
clean.
The typewriter’s there and
so’s the phone
But all the rest is on its own.
Little notes are scattered out
Leaving the owner quite in
doubt
as to who called or what they
needed
That’s why messages go
unheeded!
I have found this all quite
true
And if you work, then so have
you!
Reprinted from an earlier
issue when Mrs. Brown was a
staff writer for the Progress-
Argus.
"Enjoy the present." Horace
you love.
Thank you,
Glen A. Mixon
Chewing gum on clothes can
be scraped off easily if first
hardened with ice.