Newspaper Page Text
Saxkstrn Vragtess-^rgus
J.D. Jones Publisher
(1908 1955)
Doyle Jones Jr. * Editor and Publisher
(1955-1975)
MRS. MARTHA G. JONES PUBLISHER
VINCENT JONES EDITOR
OFFICIAL ORGAN BUTTS COUNTY AND CITY OF JACKSON
Published every Thursday at-129 South Mulberry Street, Jackson,
Georgia 30233 by The Progress-Argus Printing.Co., 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.
One Year, in Georgia J 6.24
Si\ Months, in Georgia $3.91
Editorials
Around Jackson, Georgia, the
day dawned cloudy and somewhat
cooler, the back of the early heat
wave broken temporarily by a chill
breeze that carried a premonition
of changes other than the weather.
The town buzzed with house
wives seeking bargains from the
sparse offerings of the merchants,
exchanging rationing stamps for
the critical items, and making
cautious inquiries into the where
abouts and welfare of their
neighbors’ sons in service.
Tired from an evening of
sporting the night before, the
grocery clerk dispensed his wares
absent-mindedly, his memory
stabbed by the redolent rendition of
Glenn Miller’s “Falling Leaves” as
dispensed by his favorite juke box
while he was lost in the arms of his
favorite girl.
The anguish of war had not
spared the town. Already, the gold
stars were dotting too many
windows and church doors were
open always to grieving, and
fearful, parents and friends of
those who had gone to war.
Teen-age frolics were spoiled
by worn out cars with tires worn
down to the fabric and so front
porches became popular once
again with those engaged in affairs
of the heart.
The Atlanta Crackers were
trying to stay in the fight for the
Southern Association pennant, with
a cast of 4-F’s and teeners too
young for such sophisticated play.
The town clock tolled each hour
and had completed about half of its
mission towards the noon hour.
Atlanta’s WSB was playing a
soothing rendition of “June in
January” when the interruption
came:
“Ladies and gentlemen, we
interrupt this program to bring you
this special message from the
Allied Expeditionary Forces. The
Allied forces have today crossed
the Channel and landed on the
coast of France. Fighting is fierce
in several locations on the
Normandy coast and the issue is
still in doubt. Further news on the
invasion will be given as soon as it
becomes available.”
“June in January” indeed.
Slaughter in June would have been
a more appropriate title. For
before the sun was set there would
be more Gold Stars in Butts County
windows, more fatherless children,
more widowed wives.
God rest you all, you merry
gentlemen, you who died crawling
onto the storm-tossed beaches
called Omaha and Utah on
Normandy’s shores. You who
stepped from wildly-careening
LCT’s waist deep into the churning
surf and into a hornet’s hell of
whistling bullets and bursting
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June 6, 1944
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shells.
God rest you all, you who will
never be kissed again by a favorite
girl or who will never again have
your memory stabbed by a
haunting refrain on a starlit night.
God rest us all, those of us who
will never again know the clasp of
your hand or the benediction of
your smile. And have been robbed
forever of the genius that might
have been yours, to write a perfect
poem, to preach a soul-saving
sermon, to discover in medicine or
science unknown worlds.
We say thirty-three years and
it seems a long time. Thirty-three
years and children born and grown
with children of their own.
Thirty-three years with empires
toppled and presidents resigned
and beauty faded and old age
making its inroads.
Thirty-three years and anew
technology evolved too fast for us
to absorb it. Thirty-three years and
songs written, sung and forgotten,
books published, read and not long
remembered.
But has it been that long?
For those of us who somehow
lived through it, the memory will
never die. Nor should we let it.
Every Vietnam draft dodger
who received anew lease on life
due to a president’s compassion,
every punk kid who thinks the
world owes him a living and the
right to steal and intimidate others,
should be made to sit through an
all-day session of official Army,
Navy and Marine combat films
made on June 6, 1944.
Then perhaps they would learn
something about what heroism is.
And maybe they would get a better
understanding of what this country
is all about, and how it got to the
present day when they can sit down
and howl about their rights and
neglect their responsibilities.
There weren’t many rights on
Omaha and Utah beaches. Your
responsibility was to protect your
own life and that of your friends, if
possible, but your main responsi
bility was to get off that beach, onto
solid ground and start the German
army on its retreat through France
that would eventually end in Berlin
and victory.
June 6, 1944. D-Day. The date
of the great, long-awaited invasion
of Europe by the Allied forces.
Never before, and possibly never
again, will the world ever see such
a coordinated and gigantic sea,
land and air assault.
It was a day of valor and
gallantry and heroism so common
that it became commonplace. It
was the day that historians ten
times 10,000 years from now will
still be recording as one of the
turning points in man’s continuing
struggle to conquer evil.
THE JACKSON PROGRESS-ARGUS, JACKSON, GEORGIA
The Last
Straw
BY
VINCENT IONES
Like a teenager tottering
on the brink of adulthood,
June slips slyly into the
spotlight, her warm greeting
heralding summer’s full
ripeness yet to come and
bidding adieu to Spring’s
coolness which melted under
her glowing entrance.
June is the gate through
which summer’s bounty
enters. Gone now is the
hurried growth of bud and
blossom. The tender shoots
of May are being toughened
into the bounty laden boughs
of August.
The tomato, which has
flourished in the warm,
benevolent sun of spring
time, will begin to blush pink
when the June sun seeks out
its leafy hiding place.
In the garden, June will
find many plants basking in
her sun baths. June is the
growing ear in the corn
patch, the tender squash
upon the vine, butterbeans
and string beans white with
blossoms, irish potatoes
ready for the first digging.
It is wheat ripening into a
golden riot of color, oats cut
and shocked, pastures and
lawns growing heavy with
weeds and shorter on grass.
It is red and yellow plums
awaiting a picker, dewber
ries black with sweetness
and beckoning a strong
backed harvester, blackber
ries reddening before sum
mer’s alchemy transforms
them into the same charcoal
color of their sweeter cousin.
It is blossoms on elderber
ry, muscadines forming the
green clusters that will ripen
as summer begins to fade,
the ironweed emerging from
its cold tomb to engage some
unwary earthling in a tug of
war.
From the nearest hedge
row or weed patch, the quail
calls the familiar “bob
white" to his mate. In the
forests, the mourning dove
coos for his lady love and
man, in his current abomin
able trend in popular music,
does not have a love song in
the top ten that would
compare favorably with
either.
Sunrise comes earlier and
lingers longer and soon the
earth will reach its zenith
and fill the skies with light
for the longest period, after
which the long, slow guide
into autumn will begin.
There is not yet the
unhurried leisure about the
days that late July and
August will bring. There is
still growth, much fruiting to
be accomplished, but ere the
month is done the pace will
be slowed and the land will be
encompassed in summer’s
haze of disciplined growth.
The children feel sum
mer’s coming with their toes
as they trod barefoot the
dusty paths that lead to
favorite swimming holes and
cool forests where they learn
more about nature in three
months than their biology
teacher could cram into nine.
For graduates, of both high
school and college, it is a
time of decision. For college
students home for the
holidays it is a time of
readjusting to parental ways
and of getting acquainted
again with Mom and Dad.
June is the time when
vacationists burst out all
over, crowding the popular
tourist attractions, trying to
cram a whole year’s re
pressed desire for fun and
sun into a week of excitement
from which it will take two
weeks to recover.
But that’s June for you.
Promising, beckoning, the
month in which spring ripens
into summer. It’s a good
month to be alive, and to be
out of doors.
Store Safely
Storing foods correctly is
as important as buying
clean, safe foods at the store.
Remember, handy as it
might be, the storage space
under the kitchen sink is
NOT a good place for storing
potatoes and onions. Cans of
food stored in a moist area
can develop rust and even
tually the can will dete
riorate and the food will
spoil.
A Stroll Down |
| Memory Lane |
NEWS OF 10 YEARS AGO
Among the many scholar
ships given Monday at
graduation exercises were
two given by Avondale Mills,
one to Bobby Harrison and
the other to Leon Cook.
A quart liquor bottle
estimated to be 100 years old
has been found on the Old
Kinard Nursery property. It
bore the inscription Potts &
Potts, Wholesale Liquors,
Atlanta, Ga.
Tommy Carmichael has
been initiated into the
Scabbard and Blade, the
highest military honor that
can be attained at Georgia
Tech.
Retail sales in Butts
County for the first three
months of 1967 were up about
nine per cent over the same
period in 1966. Figures were
$2,773,000 as opposed to
$2,544,000.
Carol Laverne Mask has
been graduated Cum Laude
from Tift College.
Elbert Long, machinist at
Avondale Mills, has been
awarded a plaque as a Zero
Defects Plant award winner.
Deaths during the week:
ThomasL. (Bo) Silas, Jr., 50.
NEWS OF 20 YEARS AGO
The Hi-Fi Oil Company, E.
M. McCord, owner, is having
its formal opening on Friday,
June 7th.
Bids are being accepted for
grading and paving 4.635
miles of the Dodson Road,
extending from State Route
87 in Flovilla to State Route
16 near the J. W. Browning
home.
Mrs. Ruby White has a
peculiar hen who lays an egg
each day on the back porch
after first pulling a string to
turn on the light.
Brigadier General William
R. Woodward, of Jackson, is
being assigned to a command
post at Fort Jackson, S. C.
Herbert Maddox Fletcher
was graduated Sunday from
Georgia Military Academy
where he was a member of
the GMA varsity football
team.
Army Capt. Malcolm R.
Smith, of Flovilla, has
received a Commendation
Ribbon with Metal Pendant
in Hawaii for outstanding
service as operations officer
of the Hawaiian Armed
Services Police.
NEWS OF 30 YEARS AGO
Mrs. Bert Carmichael, Jr.,
fund chairman of a drive to
raise SSOO for a tubercular
patient at Battey Hospital,
raised over SIOO in less than
two hours in a hurried
canvass of the Jackson
business district.
The Kiwanis Club’s pure
bred pig project got off to a
good start when 4-C Club
participants were guests of
the Club and drew for the 14
pigs, 13 gilts and one male.
The Jackson Kiwanis Club
is staging its Variety Show
Friday night and predictions
are that it will be the funniest
show to ever play the city.
Mrs. Lamar Weaver has
WE’RE FIGHTING FOR YOUR LIFE
Don’t Smoke
American Heart Association |
THURSDAY, JUNE 9, 1977
won the grand prize in the
Butts County Style Review.
Miss Jane Anne Mallet has
graduated from Wesleyan
College with an A.B. degree
and a major in English.
The Stark HD Club met
Thursday with Mrs. F. H.
Morgan. Mrs. Lily Townsend
and Miss Elizabeth Hood had
parts on the program.
NEWS OF 40 YEARS AGO
Butts Countians voted 481
to 188 against repealing the
state’s bone dry prohibition
law.
Butts County Agent M. L.
Powell reports that the
County has the largest
number of 4-H boys and girls
enrolled in projects this year
in its history.
The boll weevil is active in
cotton fields in the County,
according to information
brought in by growers. The
unusually mild winter is
believed to be responsible for
the heavy infestation.
A program at the Jackson
Airport in Hammondtown is
being held Saturday for the
benefit of the county library.
Wm. M. Towles, an expe
rienced pilot, is giving rides
for 50 cents each in his plane.
The Jackson postoffice has
been ordered to stop Sunday
deliveries, according to Post
master Victor H. Carmi
chael. Sunday’s edition of
daily newspapers had for
merly been distributed to
rural patrons on Sunday.
Jackson Lake will have its
first motorboat race of the
season next Sunday, when 25
of the country’s fastest
drivers will compete for
prizes.
Deaths during the week:
Mrs. Emma Maddox, 66.
NEWS OF 50 YEARS AGO
County Agent H. G. Wiley
made a verbal report in the
Progress-Argus of his first
five years as Butts County’s
Farm and Marketing Agent.
V. M. White, on the
Pittman’s Ferry Road, lost
two large barns, two feed
houses, large quantities of
leedstuffs, two grown hogs
and several shoats to a fire
Friday morning.
Grade work on the Jackson
to Indian Springs highway is
progressing on schedule and
should be completed by late
summer or early fall.
Carmichael’s Georgia Gro
cery was advertising three
pounds of Jamup coffee for 95
cents; Seminole bacon at 29
cents a pound, and 25 pounds
of sugar for $1.71.
The first cotton bloom of
the season reported to this
office was brought in June
Bth by Mr. H. L. Grant, of
Jackson. This is 14 days
earlier than the first bloom of
last year, which was report
ed on June 22nd.
J. B. Guthrie Realty Cos.
was advertising the Henceley
house on South Mulberry for
$2,000 and a six-room house
with one-half acre lot at the
Camp Ground for $1,000.00.
Deaths during the week: C.
C. Jewett, 58.
ruth at random
By Rufh Bryant
TO A RAINY DAY
You’re in the merrie month of May
You call for resting on the way,
Because you are a rainy day
You call for fun that’s good and gay!
When children come inside to play
You call for lively games and say,
“I wish that I could always stay
And laugh and love and work and play
Where fun is fine for every day
In this, our merrie month of May”!
s£e£tm~klU OiitM
In a few short weeks
Jackson and Butts County
will be celebrating together
the 4th annual Butts County
Week.
The Butts County celebra
tion is really nothing new.
True, this is only the fourth
year that there has been a
designated week of celebra
tion, but the celebrating has
been going on for years.
People in Butts County have
always found reason to get
together, to meet new people,
to be with old friends. Used to
be, there was always
something going on at the
community house.
But times have changed
and the community has
grown. Those times for just
getting together seem fewer
and farther between. Even
getting the family together
for a reunion seems like hard
work. But, despite the effort,
we still want to get
together—to celebrate.
Butts County Week is the
result of people like you
working together for a huge
“family reunion.” The cele
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■TH ‘Whatsoever
jPy Things’
Donald E. Wildmon
LITTLE BY LITTLE
It was all caused by a common house cat, investigators
said. It’s kinda hard to believe, but they have pieced the
events together and this evidently is what happened. The
house cat knocked a vase off a shelf in the utility room. The
vase fell onto a valve in a gas line. The impact opened the gas
valve, letting the room fill with gas. The gas from the leak
soon reached the water heater pilot light and ignited. The
result: an explosion which moved two walls in a house, broke
windows and started a small fire. The damage will come to
approximately $3,000 said the news account. Luckily for the
Air Force Major James Miller and his family at Vandenberg
Air Force Base in California, no one was hurt.
One never knows how far one little deed will affect his
life. Things which we count so small, so insignificant, so
petty, end up dominating us. They all begin innocently
enough. They are such little deeds that we hardly take them
seriously. After all, what harm can such little deeds do?
Most of our major accomplishments in life start off as
little things. Then they begin to grow, to take on size and
importance. A man on the moon didn’t start out as a big
project. It started out as a little thought in the minds of men.
And if you had spoken of it seriously, you most certainly
would have been the town laughing stock. And the airline
business didn’t start out the monstrosity that it is now. It
started out as a thought in the minds of a few people centuries
ago. (And most people considered those who had such
thoughts a little “touched” in the head!)
On the other hand, most of our catastrophes didn’t begin
as such, either. Hitler had no dreams of murdering six
million Jews as an eleven-year-old. The idea started slowly,
but it grew too fast. Nero didn’t set out to be a ruler mad with
insanity and jealousy. But. that’s the way he ended
up—fiddling as Home burned.
We don’t take the little petty things too seriously. After
all, they are so small—what can they hurt? Who will miss the
quarter from the cash register? Surely not the company, as
large as it is. And soon it is a dollar the company won’t miss,
and soon it is a five —“which the company owes me.” And it
ends up in what the law calls embezzlement. We fully
intended to pay it back.
One social drink doesn’t do any harm. It only loosens us
up so we can enjoy the party. And the second helps a little
more. And then another. And before long all we want to do is
to be the life of the party—even when there isn’t a party.
No person— any where—leaves that which he knows is the
highest and best in him with one great leaping jump. Every
person who betrays his Creator and himself and others does
so with little things—slowlv. Little by little.
Our lives are shaped basically by the sum total of little
things. While it may be the big things which impress us, it is
the little things which influence us.
bration is sponsored by the
Chamber of Commerce but
the Chamber receives no
profit from the activities. All
of the proceeds are put
toward the next year’s
celebration. And therewill be
a celebration next year,
because of you—you and
your participation.
And that’s the real reason
for Butts County Week. Now
we have one week set aside to
do what we’ve been doing
down through the years—
joining together in a com
munity effort to have a great
time just being together.
Melinda Cook
Publicity Chairman
Butts County
Celebration Committee
Editor’s Quote Book
Some parents give most
by giving least.
Arnold Glasow