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♦ WEDNESDAY, JULY 21, 2004
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OPINION
Daniel F. Evans
President,
Editor and Publisher
Julie B. Evans Rex Gambill
Vice President Managing Editor
Foy S. Evans
Editor Emeritus
Benefit Extension Praised
The Georgia University System recently
extended a valuable benefit that has been
available to active duty military personnel to
include service members who retire from
active duty and remain in Georgia.
Now active duty and retired military per
sonnel can receive the benefit of attending
Georgia’s public colleges while paying in-state
tuition, which is substantially lower than our
of-state tuition.
We applaud the Board of Regents for extend
ing this benefit to retired service personnel.
Thousands of military personnel, as well as
civil servants, have benefited from having
local branches of state universities located
here.
Many years have passed since Maj. Gen. A.J.
Beck made educational opportunities one of
his major goals while serving as commander
at Robins Air Force Base.
Prior to the time Gen. Beck came here,
there were several branches of state colleges
and universities available to base personnel.
However, they could go only so far because of
a rule in effect for all state universities.
For someone to attain a degree from one of
the states universities it was necessary to
attend classes on campus for at least one year.
This, of course, precluded either military or
civilian employees from graduating from the
University of Georgia, Georgia Tech or any
other state university while continuing with
their jobs.
Gen. Beck took this on as a personal cru
sade. He lobbied the Georgia legislature. He
lobbied the Board of Regents. He pointed out
that civilian employees at Robins AFB at that
time were below the educational level of civil
ians at other materiel command bases. He
insisted that it was important to the survival
of Robins AFB for employees to become better
educated and for more of them to acquire col
lege degrees.
Before he completed his tour at Robins,
Gen. Beck accomplished his goal. The Board
of Regents agreed to permit the granting of
degrees at branches located here. Over the
years this one accomplishment has resulted in
the educational level of personnel at Robins
going up dramatically so that they rank with
and above their counterparts at other bases.
This new benefit for retired military person
nel who remain in Georgia by the Board of
Regents is welcome and deserved.
Send your Letteis to the Editor to:
The Houston Home journal
P.O. Box 1910' Petty, Ga 31069 or
Email: hhj@evansnewspapen.com
His words, lessons live on in my heart
He was a mentor, a friend,
a shoulder to lean on, and all
that good stuff. But more
importantly he was my
teacher.
Educators today often say
teachers can make a differ
ence in the life of a child. I,
not long ago being a student
(exactly two months and 20
days ago) know there could
n’t be any truer words spo
ken.
Leon Nelson was my
instructor in a variety of
classes from graphic arts, to
keyboarding, to mass media
at Central High in Macon.
All of his classes, no matter
how different they were, had
the Nelson tone to them. On
a daily basis, you were going
to get blessed out by Mr.
Nelson for whatever you
were failing to do, whether
Teresa Southern
Staff Writer
tsouthem@evansnewspapers.com
it was bad grades on a test
or the class just couldn’t
simmer down. You would
also enjoy a good laugh, and
you would always get a dose
of real world advice about
anything.
Something unique about every fruit stand
There is nothing like tak
ing a long road trip in the
summer.
Some of the things you see
along the way are just little
adventures waiting to hap
pen!
I wish I could stop at each
and every fruit stand I see.
While you can expect deli
cious fruit and veggies to be
found at most of them, there
is always something unique
about each one.
I was surprised to find a
display of decorated dagger
type knives at one in South
Georgia recently.
I was pleasantly surprised
to find this one sold ice-cold
fresh lemonade, too!
I bought lemonade and
just looked at the daggers.
• • •
The people who operate
these stands are usually
interesting, too.
I can only imagine some of
the characters they have
stop to look at or purchase
their produce!
• • •
Recently, I drove by one in
the low country of South
Carolina that was a verita
ble island after an afternoon
summer thunderstorm del
uge.
A sister-in-law who rocks
My sister-in-law is back on
her rocker, and not a minute
too soon. She gave us quite a
scare recently when what
looked like a routine gall
bladder surgery became a
nightmare in the ICU.
Funny, how quickly life can
take a turn. One minute
you're digging in the medicine
chest, looking for an antacid;
next minute, you're in a hos
pital headed for surgery.
One minute, you're a blind
woman who can talk the
chicken off a bone, wears
hearing aids and always
speaks her mind; next
minute, you're an ICU patient
with a tube down your throat,
unable to speak or to tell
someone your hearing-aid
batteries are dying.
One minute, you're plan
ning what to buy at Wal-Mart;
next minute, you're thinking
all you want is your health
and the blind man you mar
ried 10 years ago, who stands
by your bed, patting your
hand, saying, "Babe, it's
gonna be all right."
That and your faith is all
you need, really. Well, besides
food and water and shelter
and air and a good platform
rocker.
My sister-in-law likes to
rock. It started when she was
little. There was something
about the movement, the
rhythm, that she loved. While
other children ran around
poking each other with sticks,
she'd sit in a rocker on the
porch, rocking and singing
and trying to make sense of
the pitch-black world around
her.
She was good at those
things, especially singing.
People often asked her to sing
for church and weddings and
such _ until her hearing went
bad and she had trouble find
ing the notes.
Then she met my brother
The last class I had the
honor of taking from Mr.
, Nelson was mass media. In
this class we hosted an early
morning news show, com
plete with commentaries
and student-produced com
mercials. I was one of the
anchors at CHS-3. Other
students performed jobs as
cameramen, video editors,
producers, light operators
and sound technicians. Our
class of 30 produced a 20-
minute news show shown
during homeroom.
On our first day of the
class, not following the lead
of other teachers making us
read loads and loads of
equipment manuals, he told
the class, “Go and play with
the equipment. It’s the only
way you will learn to use it.”
And by the second week of
w
Emily Johnstone
Columnist
ejohnso3ne@evansnewspapers.com
Though the parking area
was all water, the popularity
of the place was plain as cus
tomers did not let the water
stand in their way of squeez
ing tomatoes and thumping
watermelons.
Patrons sloshed in and out
the parking lot which was
fast becoming a boggin’ hole
in their quest for those deli
cious fresh foods!
• • •
Speaking of thumping
watermelons, I wonder what
is the most popular way to
carry out this important
investigation?
Do you thump with a
thumb or finger? Or fingers?
lip *
J
Sharon Randall
Columnist
Scripps Howard News Service
and _ despite my mother's
heated insistence that a
three-week courtship was at
best, too short, and at worst, a
flat-out sin - they were mar
ried. Next thing we knew,
they were rocking and singing
together, worrying about
nothing much, least of all,
finding the right notes.
Talk about blind love.
Isn't that what it takes for
two to become as one? You
have to make your own music
together, try some new notes,
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school he left us alone and
only oversaw our work.
Someone would think
CHS-3 was broadcast all
over Macon, with the seri
ousness Mr. Nelson had
about our broadcasts. Mr.
Nelson was also a camera
man at 13-WMAZ.
There was never to be any
playing on camera. All com
mercials had to play in their
entirety with no sound or
video problems. Everything
said on the air was to be
objective. And the most
important thing he told me
personally, I will never for
get - “You have to fake it to
make it.”
It’s hard to keep that
mentality in today’s era of
Dr. Phil and Oprah urging
you not to keep it all inside.
But as a reporter this is vital
And, just what sound lets
you know this is the melon
your taste buds have been
dreaming of?
It is an art form, truly!
• • •
Kudzu is another thing
you can see plenty of during
a summer drive.
It lines the roads, covering
everything that cannot
move from its creeping
clutches.
I read recently that one
town with a kudzu problem
found a natural way to get
rid of some of it.
Apparently, goats think
kudzu is delicious!
So, they brought in goats
to munch away the problem!
• • •
OK, to all of you who are
interested in Rick’s latest
attempts to show he really
does like animals, here is a
little story.
Don’t laugh, this did hap
pen!
While on a trip, we made a
stop in a little town off
Interstate 16. You know, the
interstate that is the com
plete opposite of 1-75 ... not
as much traffic and not as
many restrooms along the
way.
Anyhow, during this stop,
turn a deaf ear to the world
and even your own mother,
and pray to God to help you
find a little harmony.
They did that, my stubborn
blind brother and his equally
stubborn blind wife. They're
not one person, exactly; more
like two giant fruit bats tuned
to the same radar. It's creepy,
how they read each other's
minds.
I thought of that last night
as we visited in their apart
ment.
She was rocking, as usual,
one foot tapping on a bare
patch of linoleum _ squeak
tap, squeak-tap, squeak-tap.
That sound used to make
me crazy. Now it makes me
glad.
She played a tape, a demo
made years ago before she lost
her hearing. It was lovely.
"I wish Mama could’ve
heard you sing," I told her.
"I do, too," she said.
"I told you she had a voice,”
my brother said, beaming. He
hung on every note, every
squeak and tap, everything
she said or didn't say, thought
to me. I can’t let my feelings
show anywhere but in this
column. I, in no other way
can let a reader know how I
feel about an issue.
I have to quiet my concern
over many issues to report
them objectively without an
opinion to give you the
chance to form your own.
I have to fake it to make it.
About two years ago, a
friend shared with me Mr.
Nelson had cancer. I visited
him while he was teaching a
keyboarding class. One
thing hadn’t changed. Mr.
Nelson was still the same,
attitude and wisdom doled
out accordingly.
I didn’t ask about his con
dition. He wanted to know
about how I was doing.
“Sit down child,” he told
me. I just sat and talked to
THE HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL
a little boy was upset
because his small dog was
running away from him.
“Please catch my dog!”
cried the little one to Rick as
it ran his way.
Rick reached down and
caught the small animal and
held it until the little boy
arrived to happily gather it
in his arms.
• • •
Back home, our orange
terror, Oscar has been caus
ing upset, as usual.
A few days ago, he discov
ered a vent to the a/c system
had been taken off while a
room was being painted.
Stay away from there! I
called to him when I spotted
him nosing around the hole
in the wall.
Sure enough, before I
could get to him, his orange
and white tail disappeared
inside the venting system!
Not knowing what else to
do, I ran to the controls and
switched the air on.
When Oscar got a blast of
cold air in his face, he came
back out, pronto!
I am just glad he did not
get stuck.
How would I have
explained that to Rick or a
repair person?
or didn't think, felt or didn't
feel.
Things tend to sound better
if you think you might not
always have a chance to hear
them.
They introduced me to their
friends, David and Claire,
who are legally blind, but
have been helping out with
meals and chores since my
sister-in-law came home from
the hospital.
"We're country people," said
David, dismissing my thanks.
'We like to help when we can."
Life is made of moments,
isn't it? Good, bad, up or
down.
One minute, you think your
life is over; next minute,
you're home with the blind
man you love, listening to the
sound of your own voice and
basking in the kindnesses of
friends.
Might as well keep rocking.
Sharon Randall is the
author of "Birdbaths and
Paper Cranes." She can be
reached at P.O. Box 696,
Landrum, SC 29356, or at
randallbay(at)earthlink. net.
him about my life since I
made the transition from a
Charger to an Eagle. Our
visit was only a class period,
about 50 minutes, but it was
the last time I saw him.
The same friend informed
me Mr. Nelson died on
Friday. I read an article
about him and his advanc
ing cancer earlier that week,
and decided to wait to see
him since so many others
crowded his room at the
Medical Center of Central
Georgia. I read his obituary
online, signed the guest
book and cried at my desk,
but keep a positive attitude
because I wouldn’t have
wanted him to suffer anoth
er minute from such a con
suming disease. I’ll keep his
memory alive in everything
I write.