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Declare among the nations, and publish, and set up a standard;
publish, and conceal not. - Jeremiah 50:2
2019, 2018, 2017, 2016 winner: Editorial Page excellen
2019, 2018 winner: Best Headline Writing
2019 winner: Best Community Service
2019 winner: Best Layout and Design
2019 winner: Best Serious Column - Don Daniel
ON THE PORCH by Will Davis
I was so wrong
I was wrong. I was wrong. Holy cow, was I wrong.
Right here in this very spot, sitting On the Porch
with you on Dec. 3,2015,1 bemoaned the decision
by UGA athletic director Greg McGarity to fire Mark
Richt. Like a lot of Georgia fans, my point was that Richt
had us competing for SEC titles most years, had excel
lent character and values, and there was
no guarantee in the hyper-competitive
world of college football that UGA could
improve upon that.
“Will McGarity find a coach who can
improve on Richt s 10 wins per year?”
asked Will “Nostradamus” Davis. “I’m
doubtful.”
Well who’s doubting now?
Actually, I am. Or was. In the first half
on Monday night, I suppose a lot of us
were doubting. Stetson Bennett was
slipping and sliding and fumbling and
our offense was moribund. Here we go again, I feared.
In the third quarter when Bennett flailed under pressure
and fumbled to the Tide inside our 30 yard line, Georgia
fans began to ponder the familiar refrain — maybe next
year. When Bama took advantage of the turnover with
their first touchdown of the game, all seemed lost. Our of
fense had been a disaster.
I’m in a group text with 17 of my old Kappa Alpha
fraternity brothers from UGA. Two in particular have said
all year we would never win a title with the famed former
walk-on from Blackshear.
“Bowers was open down the middle,” said Billy Olson of
Athens. “Little guy can’t see the field.”
“He can’t see over the dang line,” said Charles Creech,
who’s also a childhood friend from Raleigh.
“A natty or not, keep him in or pull him,” said Steve
Townsend of Dalton. “Grow a set, Kirby’
He later added: “Were done. Maybe next year.”
If that wasn’t depressing enough, then came the fumble in
the third quarter.
“Stets just cost us the game,” texted Creech.
The consensus all season was that Bennett was a cute
story, but they couldn’t get past that 3-star rating in high
school. Or was it 2-star?
I promised the haters I would mail them all a flip phone
when Bennett won it.
And then he flung that beauty to A.D. Mitchell down the
right sideline. The wizards of smart changed on a dime.
“Stets for Prez” said Rhett Mauney of Augusta.
“ you Stets haters!” added Comer Hobbs of Colo
rado.
The emotional swings of Monday night will probably
have this state reeling the rest of the week. Then came the
dagger, the pick 6 by Kelee Ringo.
I was jumping up and down in the den. The TV showed
Stetson crying and then my wife was crying.
Next my neighbor Denny Ennis was launching a celebra
tory fireworks show. The dogs were racing around the yard
barking at everything. Somehow our 7 year old, who was
allowed to watch the first half and had made us some UGA
posters, never woke up in the bedlam.
It’s a cliche, but it doesn’t make it less true, that the darker
the night, the brighter the sunrise. Oh sure, college sports
is a silly diversion from the realities of life. But it’s a very
meaningful one here in the state of Georgia. And espe
cially for my family. My great-grandfather was the business
manager for the UGA football team in 1913. When I was
a kid, he would sit in his green Duster in the driveway and
listen to Larry Munson call the game. Today, my daughter
is the fifth generation of her family to attend the University
of Georgia.
I love Mark Richt. What a great man. And I was proud to
see him in red and black at the game Monday. But I’m also
thankful for Greg McGarity. Kirby Smart was a brilliant
hire. And I’m thankful that Stetson Bennett has shown us
all how to overcome hardships, criticisms and obstacles
to achieve his dreams. His testimony is the same of the
last two years of COVID madness: the crowds are insane.
“Keep fighting and keep your mouth shut,” was Bennett’s
advice. “Life is tough.” But sometimes it is very sweet.
How Bout Them Dawgs? Now, where can I buy some flip
phones?
is published every week by The Monroe County Reporter Inc.
Will Davis, President • Robert M. Williams Jr., Vice President
Cheryl S. Williams, Secretary-T reasurer
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VlE'REAU.
GONNA DIEl
REECES PIECES by Steve Reece
Winter life below the Snow Belt
T he southern border of the
Great American Snowbelt
extends from the extreme
northeast corner of North
Carolina, across the continent along
the northern borders of Tennessee,
Arkansas, Oklahoma, New Mexico,
Arizona, to where the 42nd parallel
meets the ocean at California’s border
with Oregon. Incredibly, more than
half the nation’s population live in
this frigid zone where cold is a daily
part of life during long, miserable
winters. The hardy people living there
not only deal with
horrible weather,
high heating bills, and
horrendous driving
conditions but also
less quality of life than
we Southerners. Most
Northerners either
don’t realize or agree
with that last fact.
They laugh at us because we shut
down our businesses, government,
and schools if snow accumulates
more than an inch. It doesn’t even
have to stick. Some local authority
sees animated snowflakes drifting
down on the weather app, declares a
Snow Day and everything grinds to a
halt. This person knows our vehicles
aren’t equipped with snow tires and
does this with public safety in mind.
They also know we don’t own any
tire chains and if we did, we wouldn’t
know how to attach them without
looking it up on YouTube. Maybe
we can’t drive in snow, but I’ll race a
Yankee in the mud any day.
I’ve never donned a pair of ice
skates and after my last fall at the
roller rink, I assure you I never will.
I once attempted skiing down a
Colorado mountain and the amount
of clothing necessary just to keep me
warm cost a pile of cold cash. Just as I
don’t have any tire chains in my shed,
I also didn’t have any snow clothes
hanging in my closet as I currently
do. I had never skied before and
was worried while riding the lift to
the top of the mountain that maybe
I wouldn’t be able to make it back
down, but gravity quickly took care of
that worry. Y’all can keep your winter
sports. If there hadn’t been any snow,
I probably would’ve enjoyed it much
more.
Down here in civilized Georgia,
if I get a hankering to go fishing, I
just jump in the truck and I’m off to
the river. If I were up in Michigan or
some other iced-over, God-forsaken
place, I’d have to load up an ax or
grab the chainsaw to cut through
a thick layer of ice just so I could
drop a line and stand there shivering
with ice forming on my face while
waiting for a nibble. You can buy a
special ice auger to drill a hole 10” in
diameter but they’re pretty expensive
and heavy and you have to drag it to
where you want to fish along with the
rest of your gear. Some northern fish
ermen (fisherpeople? fishfighters?)
even have little shacks on sleds they
slide out to the middle of a frozen
lake where they hang out drinking
beer and listening to the radio all day.
Sounds okay but no thanks. I’ll stick
to my Bud on the bank.
It has been claimed by some that
Mark Twain once said that everyone
is complaining about the weather,
but no one is doing anything about
it. That he really said this is doubtful.
A man such as Twain would never
utter a statement so false. Even in his
time, there were umbrellas, coats, and
boots. Not to mention sweet tea and
fireplaces. Nowadays, we have air-
conditioning, brandy, and, thankfully,
long johns. I’m especially fond of the
goose-down pair I received from my
Aunt Shirley two Christmases ago.
Since long johns are such a big part
of my fashion statement from late
October to early May, I thought I’d re
search the history of one of the most
important parts of my wardrobe and
Google returned about 4,290,000,000
results in 1.05 seconds even though I
only needed one or two.
It turns out long johns were first
woven together in England during
the 17th century, but it wasn’t until
1915 before a Canadian named Frank
Stanfield applied for a patent and
became the pioneering father of long
johns. His design called for non
shrinking cotton for a more comfort
able fit and for that I’m extremely
appreciative. At first, the wearers of
Stanfield’s Unshrinkable Underwear
were proudly walking around in the
streets using them as leisurewear.
Even today it’s not uncommon to see
a working man out in public, who
started off the day wearing long johns
beneath a shirt, sweater, and coat, to
take off layers as the temperature rises
during the day down to his under
wear shirt.
Long johns soon became popular as
sleepwear and folks finally figured out
the benefits of wearing them beneath
their clothes during the day as they
were intended. I’ve discovered that
slipping a pair of mediums over a set
of smalls can also be quite benefi
cial on especially frigid days. And it
doesn’t hurt that this practice makes
my chicken legs appear somewhat
thicker as I’m a bit self-conscious
about my skinniness.
Steve Reece is a writer for the
Reporter and a known crime fighter.
Email him at stevereece@gmail.com.
CAROLYN S CORNER by Carolyn Martel
Encouraging text makes all the difference
received an awe
some text message
the other day from
a dear friend. She is
an intercessor and
prays faithfully for
others every day. She
also realizes that our
pastors could use a
little encourage
ment from time
to time, and her
beautiful words
express a message of
thanks that I believe to be
“word in due season” for
pastors and for all of God’s
servants who faithfully
minister to others.
MY FRIEND wrote:
“Thank you for the
sacrifices you have made
for God’s children; for the
days you were tired and
still got up and helped
others. Thank you
for remaining silent
when you wanted
to speak out and
defend yourself.
Thank you for
going to the
back, when you
should have
been in front. Thank you
for loving, even when it
hurt you. Thank you for
smiling thru your tests,
when your heart was
broken. Thank you for
walking straight when the
lines were crooked. Thank
you for never losing hope,
when it looked hopeless
and for being unselfish in
a selfish world. Thank you
for releasing God’s word,
even to a deaf ear. Thank
you for appreciating
others, when they didn’t
appreciate you. Thank you
for your heart.”
THESE BEAUTIFUL,
inspiring words were
sent to me by my friend,
Wanda Rockhold. Beauti
ful words that I will never
delete from my cell phone.
I’ve also heard Wanda say,
“Butterflies cannot see
their wings.” Her point?
Butterflies cannot see how
beautiful they are, but
others can and so does the
Lord Jesus. Your service
to God and to others is a
beautiful thing to behold.
The Apostle Paul wrote,
“Therefore, dear brother
and sisters, stand firm. Let
nothing move you. Always
give yourselves fully to the
work of the Lord, because
you know that your labor
in the Lord is not in vain”
1 Corinthians 15: 58.
Amen!
Carolyn Martel retired from
the Reporter in 2021 after 30
years as the advertising manager.
Email her at carolynmartell @
bellsouth.net.