Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

PAGE 4A — THE MADISON COUNTY (GA) JOURNAL. THURSDAY. OCTOBER 8. 2009 Frankly Speaking frankgillispie671@msn.com By Frank Gillispie A tribute to the Lewis Family I have always had the curiosity of a cat, so when we moved into our new home in Dogsboro in 1955,1 quickly discovered that we were in an excellent TV reception area. Dogsboro is on the divide between the Oconee and Savannah river basins. A good TV antenna there can pull in sta tions from three states, so as soon as I had extra money, I purchased and installed a big antenna with a rotor. I immediately discovered WJBF, Channel 6 in Augusta. That was my introduction to the Lewis Family. They had a weekly Sunday morning TV program that featured the great gospel music of the fam ily, and the antics of "Little Roy.” I immediately identified with them. They were of the same rural Southern culture that produced my own family. They were all about God, family and community, and having fun without being vulgar or insulting. So it was with some sadness that I heard of the family's retirement this year. But it was to be expected. Sixty years is a long time for any act to remain on the road. The first time I saw them live was at the old Shoal Creek Bluegrass festivals. I had become acquainted with Billy Dilworth who worked for the Athens Banner Herald at that time, and he provided me with tickets in exchange for pictures and an article. The Lewis Family was one of the main acts at the festival. The audience enjoyed their sets on stage. But the most fun, in my opin ion, was when Little Roy invaded the stage and raised havoc with some of the other groups. I remember a very pleasant conversation with Polly at their sales table where I bought my first Lewis Family album. Then when they become regulars at the Comer fair, I always made sure I was free to enjoy their music. It was normal to see the grandstand full of people when they played. Little Roy was always happy to play “Dixie” when a request was sent up from the Sons of Confederate Veterans booth. We appreciated that. The Lewis Family began performing on front porches in Lincolnton near Augusta. By the time they were finished this summer, they had toured the world, released some 60 albums, and were installed in the Georgia Hall of Fame, the Bluegrass Hall of fame, and received dozens of awards and honors. Now declining health, and I suspect, fatigue have let to the end of the family act. But the greater family is not through. Little Roy is now touring with Lizzie Long, another Lincolnton native while Sheri Easter, daughter of Polly, and her husband Jeff have released a new project, “Expecting Good Things,” and are engaged in a project to restore the family home. My first reaction to the news that the Lewis Family is retiring was one of concern. I cannot imagine rural Southern culture without them. But while they will no longer be on the road, their music will last forever, and younger members of the family are sure to carry on their traditions. I salute the Lewis family with great affection and fond memories. I wish them all the best, and look forward to seeing Little Roy at the Comer fair next year. Frank Gillispie is founder of The Madison County Journal. His e-mail address is frank@ frankgillispie.com. His website can be accessed at http://www.frankgillispie.com/gilIispieonline. The Madison County Journal (Merged with The Danielsville Monitor and The Comer News, January 2006) P.O. Box 658 Hwy. 29 South Danielsville, Georgia 30633 Phone: 706-795-2567 Fax: 706-795-2765 Email: zach@mainstreetnews.com ZACH MITCHAM, Editor MARGIE RICHARDS, Reporter/Office Manager BEN MUNRO, Reporter/Sports Editor MIKE BUFFINGTON, Co-publisher SCOTT BUFFINGTON, Co-publisher FRANK GILLISPIE, Founder of The Journal. Jere Ayers (deceased) former owner of The Danielsville Monitor and The Comer News Periodical postage paid at Danielsville, Georgia 30633 SUBSCRIPTION RATES: Madison & surrounding counties $19.75/year State of Georgia $38.85/year Out-of-state $44.50/year Military personnel with APO address $42.50/year Senior rate $2 off all above rates College student discount rate $2 off all above rates POSTMASTER: Send address changes to: THE MADISON COUNTY JOURNAL P.O. Box 658, Danielsville, GA 30633 A publication of MainStreet Newspapers, Inc. Thankful there was no texting when I was 16 So far in my life, I’ve had two wrecks that were my fault. They both happened within the first three months after I turned 16. One was in the school parking lot, the other at a busy intersec tion as I tried to turn left with the sun in my eyes and the radio blaring. I played drums on my steering wheel as I turned in front of a station wagon driven by an elderly woman. Neither of us was hurt, but we were both stunned. And I remem ber knocking on the woman’s window on that bitterly cold day. She sat still with her hands on the steering wheel. The radio in my banged up car was still blast ing Living Colour’s “The Cult of Personality.” I don’t remember who called my mother. Cell phones weren’t in everybody’s pocket back then. But I remember thinking she seemed so forgiving when she arrived at that intersection. Now, I can see that she was surely shaken, probably more than me. At what point do we lose our sense of invulnerability? Well, I guess some folks never do. But the youthful feeling of nothing- Inthe Meantime zach@ mainstreet news.com By Zach can-happen-to-me is both a thing we envy and fear. When you’ve been stripped of that happy-go- lucky attitude, you can’t help but miss it a little. But blind confi dence fueled by ignorance is not the same as a deeper confidence that comes despite a clear under standing of danger. At 16, I never felt I was a danger to myself or others. But I was. And if I had the tools of today, I would have been even worse. Even after the wreck at 16, it was quite some time before I realized the gravity of the situ ation, that the woman was OK, that I was too, that I needed to change my attitude. I think of the cell phone in my pocket now. They are so conve nient. When I broke down on Hwy. 316 one winter night years ago, I realized that I never want to be without one again. And had cell phones been around when I was 16, I could have begrudgingly saved my parents some worry. But I realize, too, that had my friends communicated through texting, I would have done the same, even while driving. I wouldn’t have thought that much about it, because I didn’t think much of danger. Now, I drive everywhere think ing of the next car. Will they respect the centerline? Some folks swerve way over in your lane. Some speed up a hill to pass. I think of the safety seats in our cars, how nervous I get at times with the children in the car. I think of methamphet- amine, drunk driving, people searching for the pen on their floorboard, changing their radio dial, playing air drums. Distractions have always been a part of driving. We never know who’s in the next car or what they’re doing. And these days, there’s a good chance the next motorist you meet is texting on a cell phone. I have only sent one text message in my life and I can’t imagine how anyone can operate a vehicle while they do this. Talking on a phone can be a distraction for sure, and it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if the law required you to pull over to make a call. Apart from dialing a number, speaking on a cell phone is an aural activity, but texting is a purely visual act. It requires too much attention from the eyes on the road. It’s good to see texting while driving getting more attention lately as a public hazard. I think our state legislature will step forward and address this in January. It could prove to be one of the few slam dunk issues they face. The roads are random. We can’t do anything but accept that. But we need solid rules to cut some of that danger. I’m glad my 16-year-old self didn’t have the option of texting while driving. Today’s 16-year-olds don’t need it either. Zach Mitcham is editor of The Madison County Journal. a Mitcham Empty nest time As I write this, my son is steadily moving his stuff out of his room. Today is moving day for him - and the beginning of a new life in a new home. For his dad and I, it’s a new beginning too - for the first time in 27 years, we’ll be alone. In other words, it’s empty nest time — a time I’ll admit in years past that I’ve looked forward to — but now that it’s here, the prospect is less appealing. Our oldest, Miranda, moved out more than two years ago, and that was hard, but then there was still our baby boy at home, all six feet of him. Now, having just turned 24 a couple of weeks ago, Zack is also going out on his own. His dad and I are so proud of both our kids, and like Charles says, we want to see them both independent, happy and produc tive adults, and an asset to the communities they live in. But then there is my heart — By Margie Richards and it’s a little sore right now. So many memories come back to me, unbidden and unexpected. I look at the man in front of me, and I see nothing but the little boy. I remember how he used to not want to be away from me — not even for a little while, and now here he is a man on his own, ready to take on the world. Where in the world did the time go, and by the way, who is that (older) woman staring at me from the mirror? Wasn’t it just yesterday that Charles and I would tuck Miranda and Zack into our bed to let them fall asleep and then carry them stealthily to their own beds? We called Zack the “boomerang” because for a long time I would wake to hear the patter of his lit tle slipper-clad feet heading back to our bed, waiting to be lifted up and placed between the two of us, where he would usually stay. I don’t remember when that stopped. But now, I so wish I had took more notice, not just of that, but of so many things. My editor and good friend Zach Mitcham is at the opposite end of this spectrum with his little fam ily; the day my son turned 24, his son turned four weeks old. Like me, Zach knows the time will pass quickly. But he cannot know how quickly it will go - cannot know how fast that little girl of his will become a woman; how fast that tiny baby boy will broaden into a full-grown man. None of us can know the things we haven’t experienced - we can imagine, we can empathize, but we cannot know. My mama use to tell me that, and like most everything else, I now know just how right she was. So here we are, Charles and I, back to where we started, with just the two of us. Our babies have flown away and the nest is empty (except for a few dogs and more than a few cats). But unlike it was for both of us, whose parents died when we were young, I hope our kids will be able to return home to “daddy and mama’s house” as often as they like for many years to come. And I hope we’ll be around to watch as they build nests of their own. Margie Richards is a report er and office manager for The Madison County Journal. Telephone books go the way of buggy whips The telephone book was once a familiar part of everyone’s household. Some of the directo ries were big enough and heavy enough to be used as doorstop pers, but everybody would use them at some point to look up a neighbor’s number or just check to make sure the phone company had listed their own name and address correctly. But the white pages directory of residential telephone num bers is another cultural artifact that will soon become obsolete, just as the buggy whip became unnecessary when Americans shifted from horses to automo biles as their favored form of transportation. It is well on the way to obscu rity here in Georgia. AT&T- BellSouth, which publishes millions of residential, business and yellow pages directories every year, has asked the Public Service Commission to exempt the company from its regulation that requires phone companies to provide a printed residential directory to all customers. Business and yellow pages directories are still widely enough used to justify their continued printing and distribution, accord ing to AT&T, but most consum ers just don’t consult their resi dential white pages anymore. A major factor in the decline of the printed directory is that more The Capitol Report tcrawford@ capitol impact.net. By Tom Crawford people have desktop or laptop computers. It’s usually quicker and more convenient to look up a telephone number online than to drag out a bulky directory and flip through page after page of listings. The phone company has also — in what I’m sure was a delib erate strategy — made it all but impossible for a large segment of society to be able to read their white pages directories. Older people, who don’t see as well and tend not to use com puters as frequently as younger people, would continue to use the printed white pages if they could. But AT&T-BellSouth has shrunk and condensed the type face of listings so much over the years that printed directories are no longer readable for old geezers like me (I’m sure some of our readers could testify to having similar difficulties). During a recent PSC discussion of the directory issue, Rockdale County retiree Cynthia Babb said of herself and other senior citizens: “They don’t use the telephone book because they can’t read it. They have to go out and get a magnifying glass.” Another factor is that many subscribers, especially younger ones, don’t use landline tele phones the way they once did. A growing number of Georgians rely on cellular telephones for all their personal communications needs, and cell phone numbers are usually not included in the printed directories. There is also an environmen tal issue: discarded phone books comprise a large part of the solid waste that is dumped into land fills across the state. Eliminating the printed version of the white pages would relieve some of the pressure on those landfills and save a few trees in the bargain. AT&T did a trial run last year by eliminating the printed white pages for a portion of its metro Atlanta customers. The company gave them instead a CD-ROM computer disk that included all of the residential phone numbers. Those customers were told they could still get a printed directory from AT&T simply by request ing a copy. Only 1 percent of the custom ers who received the CD-ROM subsequently called the phone company to request a printed copy of the white pages, and fewer than two percent actually used the computer disk to look up a residential phone number, AT&T said. “Based on the diminishing use of the printed residential white pages directories by custom ers and the growing reliance on and desire to use technological applications to retrieve directory information, change is in order,” the company said in a PSC filing. “It no longer makes sense for AT&T Georgia to distribute resi dential white pages directories to every customer every year.” “These directories are just not used as much as they were in a previous time,” said Dan Walsh, an assistant attorney general who provides legal advice to the PSC. “We do all agree that the status should be changed.” The PSC will vote soon on doing away with the printed phone book requirement, at least in the metro Atlanta area. The white page directories will hang on for a while in the more sparse ly populated rural communities but clearly, it is a cultural institu tion that is on the way out. Tom Crawford is the editor of Capitol Impact's Georgia Report, an Internet news sendee at www.gareport.com that cov ers government and politics in- Georgia. He can be reached at tcrawford@capitolimpact. net.