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& EDITORIALS
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
DRAWING ON THE NEWS by AF Branco
Day of the muck-rake
A fter 14 years at 50 North Jackson Street, it was defi
nitely time for a spring cleaning of the Reporter office.
Every nook and closet was filled with filing cabinets
full of folders packed with things like legal advertise
ments from 2008 and press releases from the Obama administra
tion. It was time for them to go.
The great Richard Dumas, our long-time news and sports editor
(who’s now gone to the dark side as public information officer for
Monroe County commissioners), was an especially meticulous
records keeper. Those records remained neatly stacked on shelves
and floors in his office, just as they were when he left us two years
ago. Richard was a throwback. When I would suggest using a lap
top to type up things like property transfers from the courthouse,
Richard would sigh and say it was easier for him to handwrite them
on a legal pad. And so he would. Line by line in neat cursive. Once
his legal pad was full, he would stack it tidily on top of the others.
While I’m always looking for a shortcut, Richard was always willing
to plod along with careful precision.
The quickest way to get rid of all these old papers, I determined,
was to burn them. So we put a burn barrel in the courtyard behind
our office, threw thousands of pages of paper in it, warned our
neighbors, and started a fire. This proved to be a mistake. For one,
even with a little expensive diesel fuel, burning was taking way
too long. Second, I couldn’t relax. I took a hose and inundated the
ground around the barrel with water. But the smoke was still rising
toward power lines above the courtyard. Any moment I could
imagine Forsyth fire chief David Herndon knocking on the door.
So we soon moved to Plan B.
Disposing of 8 metal filing cabinets was not a problem. We
moved them to the sidewalk, posted them on Facebook, and they
were gone by the next day. Plan B was to load everything else, the
papers, the folders, the furniture and old cameras, into my truck for
transport to the Hubbard convenience center. We filled my truck
with so much junk we were soon forced to make our first trip for
disposal.
“Steve come with me!” I told ace reporter Steve Reece.
Reece started out in the passenger seat. But after one block, paper
was flying off those stacks in the truck bed and onto the street. Now,
I feared, I would be the subject of a nasty letter to the editor from
Beautify Forsyth chairman Dr. Tom Perry.
“Steve,” I said. “Will you ride in the back and
keep those papers from flying out?”
One of the many virtues of Steve Reece is
that he’s little. He slid his 5-foot-6,110-pound
frame between U.S. Mail tubs full of paper in
my truck bed and sprawled himself over four
n. stacks, keeping the paper from blowing away.
\ ' 1 That he did this while smoking a cigarette was
/fi, even more impressive.
“We got this!” I told Steve. He seemed to
agree. Sort of. We drove the mile to the Hub
bard convenience center and as we drove up,
I noticed the gate closed and realized it was
Thursday. Monroe County’s convenience
centers are closed on Tuesdays and Thurs
days. Oh snap.
Next, we headed down Hwy. 83 to the Monroe County Landfill.
Steve remained sprawled over the papers to keep them in, but was
now also trying to stay low enough to avoid the attention of local
police. He worried about having to put himself in his crime report
in next week’s newspaper.
After 3 bumpy and nerve-wracking miles, we arrived. “Just keep
driving that way” the attendant said. “There will be a guy there and
he will tell you what to do.”
In my only previous trip to the Monroe County landfill, I recall
dumping things in a dumpster just like the recycling center. I didn’t
see any dumpsters this time. We drove down a road, past a muddy
swamp, up a steep hill and around a big curve. I saw no dumpsters.
But I did see two bulldozers moving kitchen waste and old diapers
into the dirt.
“Steve, are we gonna have to do what I think we are going to have
to do?” I asked him.
“Oh yeah,” smiled Steve. “Were not going TO the landfill. Were
going IN the landfill!.”
My truck’s air conditioner began to suck in the odor of garbage
and filth into the cabin. We finally got one of the driver’s attention
from 25 yards away and asked what we were supposed to do. He
yelled something loudly back, but I couldn’t hear him over the
heavy equipment. So I got out and traipsed through the muck and
the mire to get closer.
“Drive over there toward the other dozer and he’ll tell you what to
do!” he yelled.
I looked at the direction he was pointing. The road turned into
a murky, trashy swamp ahead before falling off a seeming cliff.
Three buzzards stood on the edge of the precipice looking for their
next meal. Large rocks had been dumped on the path to help with
traction. They looked like they would puncture my tires. I didn’t
See ON THE PORCH . Page 5A
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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Publication No. USPS 997-840
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3
T JF
REECE’S PIECES by Steve Reece
When the chickens come home
N ow that spring is just
around the corner when
you look out your window
you probably assume that
the redbird, the robin, or even the
sparrow are the most populous birds
on earth, but you would be wrong.
That honorable distinction goes to
the Gallus domesticus, otherwise
known as the domesticated chicken.
It’s difficult to know exactly how
many of these tasty birds are roam
ing the earth because they’re running
around everywhere in all directions.
But according to government statisti
cal websites, there were 66 billion
chickens in the world in 2016 which
is well more than double the num
ber of chickens that were scratching
our planet just twenty years ago.
In 1961 it is estimated there
were 0.0024 chickens per
person worldwide which is
equivalent to one chicken for
every 400 people. Today there
are 8.82 chickens for every
person on the planet.
In America, the number
rose from 14 birds for every
person to 30. We love our
chicken, and we can get it
at almost any interstate exit from
the world’s largest chicken franchise
chain, KFC, to Popeyes Louisiana
style which I’m eagerly looking
forward to arriving soon next door
to the Walmart. What a convenient
location!
The problem is that the National
Center for Health says nearly 75%
of American men are overweight or
obese, and about 2 in 3 women are in
the same condition. A study found
that compared to those who ate no
chicken, people who eat at least 20
grams of chicken per day had a sig
nificantly greater body mass index. If
we like it, we’re not supposed to eat it.
If were supposed to eat it, I generally
don’t have a taste for it. Y’all can have
it.
The most numerous wild bird
species ever known before the lowly
chicken took the crown, the Passen
ger Pigeon, probably only numbered
a maximum of 5 billion. This was
also a delicious bird that could fly 62
mph but went extinct in 1914 due
to the great demand for its flavorful
cheap meat and a loss of habitat. I
don’t see that future for our
modern chicken. They’re
hatching them faster than we
can eat them, and they can
live in anyone’s yard. I know
of some just down the street.
The chicken is not only in
our pots and frying pans but
also in our language. If you
call someone a chicken, of
course, you’re calling them a
coward. To say the cost was “chicken
feed” means it didn’t cost that much
but we all know chicken feed is no
longer cheap. If a person’s bad karma
kicks in, we say his chickens have
come home to roost.
Any food whose flavor is hard to
describe is usually said to have the
taste of chicken. If a picture hanging
on a wall is tilted, we call it “cock
eyed”. If a man’s wife has a sharp
tongue and a nagging nature, we
refer to the poor guy as “henpecked”.
Military rank can be a “pecking
order” describing the hierarchy
of a flock of hens. If a momma is
over-attentive, she could be called a
“mother hen” then later on, after her
babies have flown the coop, she may
come down with the “empty nest
syndrome”. And a bully thinks he is
the “cock of the walk”.
And every day, all of us, like chick
ens, scratch out a living but if you do
good and work hard, you can save
up a “nest egg” and if you work even
harder and save even more, you are
“feathering your nest”. Maybe you’d
rather not work and invest instead.
In that case, be careful “not to put all
your eggs in one basket”. And never,
never count your eggs before they
have hatched. Don’t forget, some
times things can become “as scarce
as hen’s teeth” and that will cause the
price to go up accordingly.
And then sometimes a person may
just need to get away and we learn he
has “flown the coop” and maybe we
say he made a “bird brain” move. Or
it could be he is just running around
“like a chicken with its head cut off”.
A stern boss is sometimes referred
to as having a “hard-boiled” person
ality. Some of those incarcerated in
jails and prisons can be considered
“bad eggs”. A few times I have de
cided not to perform certain danger
ous feats or attend a social event like
a blind date and “chickened out”.
I can no longer think of myself as a
“spring chicken” but I’m hatching an
idea that might give me a little some
thing to crow about if I don’t wind up
with egg on my face. It’s possible that
by asking the right questions and
committing to a lot of thought along
with a generous government grant,
I could crack the riddle of two of the
most perplexing questions known
to mankind: Which came first, the
chicken or the egg, and why did the
chicken cross Rumble Road?
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
Do you put the ‘pro’ in procastinate?
I tend to procrastinate, when it
comes to doing certain house
hold chores. But putting things
off till later, only causes frustra
tion. The following story illustrates
another downside of procrastina
tion: A painfully shy man fell in love
with a woman. He sensed that she
felt the same way, but he couldn’t
find the courage to ask her out. Fi
nally he decided he would
mail her a letter every day
for a year, and then ask her
for a date. He followed his
plan, and at the year’s end
he had worked up enough
courage to give her a call,
only to discover that she
had married the let
ter carrier. Bummer!
verse is a compelling reminder to
receive the grace and salvation pro
vided by the Lord Jesus Christ, while
the opportunity exists. How many
have said, “Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll get
things right with God before I die.”
Caution alert! There are thousands
of people who entered eternity
today, who had no idea that today
was their last day. Had they known
that, they would have made
different choices. Consider
what an old sage said once,
“Don’t wait until the elev
enth hour to look to God-
your watch may be slow!”
PROCRASTINA
TION CAN have
serious consequences. For example,
God’s word says, “Today is the day
of salvation” 2 Corinthians 6:2. This
YOU MAY be saying, “I’m
saved. No worries in
that department.” Great!
•' Praise God! You may
have been saved for de
cades, but what are you
choosing to ignore or conveniently
letting slide, when you know beyond
a shadow of doubt that God is call
ing for a change in your attitude or
conduct? You know what I’m talking
about. It’s the gentle nudging of the
Holy Spirit, that pricks your con
science about what you are saying
or doing, that does not lineup with
God’s word. Are you a procrastina
tor, when it comes to doing the will
of God ?
PROCRASTINATION IS delay
ing or putting something off, till a
later time. Readiness is the opposite
of procrastination! Are you ready
to make the changes Jesus desires to
see in your life? God’s word pro
vides wisdom and guidance for our
spiritual growth. Ephesians 5:16-17
encourages us to, “Make the most of
every opportunity in these evil days.
Don’t act thoughtlessly, but under
stand what the Lord wants you do.”
Carolyn Martel is the retired advertis
ing manager of the Reporter. Email her
at carolynmartell @bellsouth. net.