Newspaper Page Text
Page 4 — Wednesday, October 5, 2011, TheTrue Citizen
inions
★ ★★ * ★ ★
The Pledge Of Allegiance
I pledge allegiance to the flag
of the United States of America
and to the Republic for which
jit stands, one Nation under
God, indivisible, with liberty and
justice for all.
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Looking Back
10 years ago: October 3, 2001
Velna Glisson retired as manager of the Burke County Library.
She was succeeded by Elaine Sikes. She had been at the library
for 25 years, 20 of those as manager.
Augusta Tech opened its doors for the fall quarter with 255
students enrolled.
Football Players of the Week included Rocky Yelton, Ben Joiner
and Aaron Lapham of EBA and Michael Larmond and Jamie
Williford of BCHS.
25 years ago: October 2,1986
EBA Spartans remained undefeated at 5-0 after a 24-7 victory
over Pinewood Christian Academy.
WHS improved their record to 2-2 with a win over Lucy Laney.
The Burke County Library opened an exhibit of folk art paint
ings by local artist Judy Brunson.
Advertisers included Bank of Midville, Waynesboro Sporting
Goods, Waynesboro World of Fitness and the Pepperloaf Deli.
50 years ago: October 4,1961
Paul B. Dye Jr. announced his candidacy for the First Ward
seat on the Waynesboro City Council. Tom Mitchell said he would
run for the Third Ward seat held by Ben Wardlow who had an
nounced his bid for mayor.
Burke County Civil Defense Director Willard Mills said that a
model fallout shelter would be erected on the courthouse square.
WHS graduate Jackson Massey pledged Sigma Nu fraternity
at Mercer University. George DeLoach pledged Kappa Sigma at
the University of Georgia.
75 years ago: October 2,1936
The Waynesboro High School Purple Jackets were about to
begin their season against Louisville High.
Coach J.B. Scoggins was beginning his sixth year as athletic
director at the school. Three players returning for the upcoming
season were B.T. Wood, Steve Economos and Q.U. Lively.
Local delegates to the State Democratic Convention in Macon
included J.C. Palmer, C.W. Skinner, Joseph Law, Guy W. Chance,
F.M. Cates and H.O. Woodward.
CL Ire (True £t ft sett
P.O. Box 948 • 601 E. 6th Street
Waynesboro, Georgia 30830
Telephone: (706) 554-2111 • Fax: (706) 554-2437
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Roy F. Chalker
1915-1994
Roy F. Chalker Jr. Bonnie K.Taylor
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By Bonnie K. Taylor
General Manager The True Citizen
Burke County’s own Jason White will be playing at Celebrity
Waiter Night at the Good Day Cafe. He will have his CDs for
sale.
Don’t forget to wear your pink on Friday to
show your support of finding a cure for Breast
Cancer. Wear your pink in honor of a breast
cancer survivor or in memory your loved one
or friend.
It’s Pink every Friday in October!
The 23rd annual “Come Home to Keysville”
celebration is this Saturday.
Georgia Power Area Manager Lisa Smith
will be the keynote speaker and Waynesboro Police Chief Alfonzo
Williams will serve as master of ceremonies. It will be a fun
filled day for all ages.
It’s almost Fair time! The Waynesboro Exchange Club Fair
will be next week from Oct. 11-15. Lots of food, fun and enter
tainment. Remember, proceeds from the fair are used by
Exchangites for many community projects including a scholar
ship fund. Thank you, Exchange Club members, for another ex
citing event!
Oct. 2-8 is National 4-H Week. Two pages of this week’s True
Citizen are devoted to 4-H news, thanks to Dr. Frank Carter and
the local Extension Service. Heather Savelle, local extension agent
and 4-H coordinator, is doing a splendid job getting students
involved in leadership and community projects through agricul
ture, the environment, health and nutrition.
Don Lively
FIVE SENSES, SOUTHERN STYLE
Science asserts that humans have five senses.
Sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch.
As a Southern boy growing up on a dirt
farm in the Blessed South there were sensory
experiences that I suspect might not have oc
curred in other parts of the country.
Here are a few examples.
Taste.
Every kid of the South has probably chewed
on a few pine needles and tasted the tang. In
my teen years I thought the pine sap scent
might cover the smell of tobacco on my breath
but I doubt the folks were ever really fooled.
We would take a honeysuckle blossom, pinch the little green
nub off the bottom and suck out the tiny drop of nectar. Every
time Mama would see me doing that she would warn me not to
suck down a spider lurking in the flower. She worried about
such things.
We had wild passion flowers, otherwise known as maypops,
growing all over the farm. When the little green pods were still
firm on the vines they were perfect for using as hand grenades
when we were playing war fighting the Germans, but when they
softened up in late summer we would pop them open and sample
the seeds. Quite sweet.
Touch.
Country kids spend a great portion of their formative years
barefoot. So most of us know the feel of wet red clay squishing
up between our toes, or of hot tar sticking to the bottom of our
leather tough feet when we walked down the paved roads on a
steamy summer day.
I still remember how it felt to scratch a pig behind his coarse,
mud-caked ears wondering if he was going to end up on our
table as bacon and pork chops.
And how it felt to walk through a corn field after a rain shower
with the leaves rubbing against me cooling me off with the left
over drops of water.
There’s no other feeling in the world like letting yourself fall
into a wagon full of freshly picked cotton, the closest thing on
Earth to sitting on a cloud.
Smell.
I realize that I have obsessed about magnolias in this space on
occasion but with good reason. I’ve said before, they might just
be God’s finest creation. Nothing can compare to their heart
pleasing fragrance that reward Southerners just for being South
erners.
Any rural kid who has roamed the Dixie swamps has come
across the deep natural pits of mud and, if you were like me and
my buddies, you couldn’t resist the urge to jump in feet first to
see how far you’d sink. Stirring up whatever was down below
brought forth an ancient, pungent smell that was not exactly pleas
ant but that always made me think of dinosaurs and primordial,
subterranean abysses.
The smell of Mama’s chicken frying and collard greens sim
mering will always recall Sunday afternoons.
Sight.
Everybody on Earth should get to witness a hundred acre field
of freshly thrashed peanuts, huge bunches of the bounty point
ing skyward, drying in the sun until they can be picked. Mil
lions of non-farm folks have no idea where peanuts come from
and I’ve always enjoy the reactions of my Yankee friends when
they find out they don’t grow on trees.
The sun sets everywhere, but the sight of it disappearing over
a field of cotton after every boll has busted wide open, each one
reflecting a bit of the last golden rays of the day, well, if you’ve
seen it you won’t forget it.
Sound.
Down here it’s all about the water. I love the sound of running
water whether it be the powerful, moseying sound of the nearby
Savannah river or the constant gurgling of one of the dozens of
springs and branches that crisscross the countryside.
There is no greater music than that of a thunderstorm gather
ing on the dark, western horizon as it gains strength and travels
overhead making a slow and steady journey toward the coast,
booming and slashing the whole way.
It’s not unusual to wake up in the morning to the sound of a
screeching blue jay and fall asleep at night to the mournful melody
of a whippoorwill.
Occasionally all the Southern senses come together.
Today I sat on the north porch sipping on a glass of sweet tea,
listened to the breeze whistling through the pine tops, watching
two squirrels play chase around the woods, scratching one of my
worthless dogs (who should have been chasing the squirrels) be
hind the ears and smelling the last blossom of the year on my
very own magnolia.
It doesn’t get much better than that.
Don Lively is a freelance writer and author of Howlin’ At The
Dixie Moon. He lives in Shell Bluff. Email Don at
Livelvcolo @ aol.com and visit his website, www.DonLively.com.