"Window! We've got a window coming up!" The shout is heard above bursts from a nail gun and the buzz of power saws. Everyone makes way for a trio of women in bright red Habitat for Humanity T-shirts, transporting yet another finished window frame. They hoist it up to volunteers on the second floor level, one more step in turning piles of lumber into a home for a displaced family of six.
This is the time we think about mothers and their children. It will be a difficult day for my sister and brother and I. We lost our mother only a few months ago. I handle my grief with complete denial.
When Mavis Daves left her home in Greenwood to move across the hall from her sister at Trinity Place Retirement Community in Columbus almost two years ago, one of the hardest separations was leaving behind her lovingly-maintained and glorious gardens. But hers is one green thumb that wouldn't give up. Daves gently lobbied for a bit of ground, any ground, so she could brighten the corner where she lives. The results are a source of beauty for Trinity residents and visitors alike.
What piqued her interest was the memory of visiting our West Point grandparents when she heard the Rabbit Foot Minstrel was coming to town.
Momma never wanted to stay home, not ever. We were a bit at odds about that toward the end. "Momma, gas is $5 a gallon. We can't just ride around all day."
Pardon me as I stray from my usual topics of lipsticks, mascaras and bangs for this column, but last Friday morning my definition of "beauty" was expanded when the historic house we called home was destroyed by fire. The phone rang in Jackson, where I was visiting with our four dogs, Naomi, Stella, Lillian and Sophia, and I have not been the same since.
A few days ago I was asked: “Why in the world would they want to name the new Columbus soccer complex Tan Yard Park?” Historically there is a very good reason for that name.
Sarah Crowley exudes a gamine charm that belies her senior years. With a seemingly-permanent chuckle, she shares humorous tidbits of life as a jewelry addict, surrounded by tables adorned with ultramarine lapis, shimmering freshwater pearls, golden coral, jet black beads and every hue of turquoise.
Twenty musical acts, 212 crafts and arts vendors, 33 food vendors, 12 historic blocks of downtown Columbus, about 40,000 people. The numbers of Market Street Festival are adding up. Throw in another one: 11 consecutive years as a Southeast Tourism Society Top 20 event.
Those who have met Nathan Best in his role as pastor of Full Armour Church in Columbus, or perhaps as their personable host at Trinity Caribbean Café, may not even be aware. But Best is a Grammy winner, as well as a Country Music Award winner.
For centuries, philosophers have pondered the question — is there life after Pilgrimage? Yes, the pilgrims have moved on. They probably imagine that Columbus quickly converts to a sleepy village, only to awaken next spring when the travelers return.
When invited recently to be a guest lecturer on beauty and style for an upcoming event, I rolled up my shirt sleeves and dove into the notes from classes, workshops and seminars that chronicle my past 18 years as a student of beauty in some of the most glamorous cities around the country.
“Every time I walked on the street, someone would ask when was I going to put the band back together,” says orchestra leader Gill Harris of Columbus. The time finally seemed right.
Something just wasn’t right about that Sunday back in February 1971. It was too warm and humid for a winter day. I was home in Rolling Fork for a weekend getaway from school and a taste of Mama’s home cooking.
Inspirational gospel artist Janet Paschal is often hailed as one of Christian music’s most soulfully versatile voices. The Christian Music Hall of Fame’s nominee for 2010 Entertainer of the Year will be in Columbus Tuesday, headlining the Columbus Christian Center’s ninth annual Ladies Banquet at Trotter Convention Center at 6:30 p.m.
I woke up one morning thinking about Sue. There wasn’t anything Sue couldn’t do, except beat cancer. She was the epitome of the “earth mother.” She made everything from scratch, organically. She organized food co-operatives: “Apple Blossom,” another “Milk and Honey,” one beautiful; one basic. Every Tuesday her garage was filled with brown paper bags. Women came to retrieve their weekly rations, the click click from the high heels of the bank teller to the soft padded steps of the soccer mom.
Angels are all around us. They flutter in stained glass windows, of course, and in cemeteries, but little ones shoot arrows into hearts, especially around Valentine’s Day, and they show up in movies like “It’s a Wonderful Life” or “Wings of Desire.” Something like 70 percent of Americans believe in real angels, not just the one shown in art, and they believe that angels are busy doing things and helping us along.
The whir of drills and pounding of hammers punctuate the air at historic St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Columbus these days. But the resilient Episcopal Church Women group isn’t letting the extensive months-long renovation under way deter them from organizing the annual Eight O’May fundraiser May 7.
It could be the concrete gargoyles protectively flanking the property entrance, or the sign declaring you’re entering Thompsonville, but one gets the feeling Killer Thompson isn’t your average Joe. But then, for a longtime corporate president with a name like Killer, that may be a foregone conclusion.
Recent TV ads informed me that Ringling Brothers-Barnum and Bailey Circus was performing in Tupelo. I remembered the last time I went to a local circus, when our children were small. I vowed I’d never, never, no never, go again.