I have been traveling back and forth from New York, Los Angeles and Columbus for roughly a year. New York is where I’m from; Los Angeles is where I’ve lived and worked as an actress for the last 10 years, and Columbus is where I shot “Butterfly Rising,” the first movie (I’m told) ever to be shot in the birthplace of that talented chap, Tennessee Williams.
As I remember the story, the Pied Piper contracted with the people of Hamelin to rid the town of rats. As promised, he led them with his pipe music into the river, where they drowned; but the townspeople refused to pay him. So he then piped their children away as well.
Monday evening my “barkler” alarm went off, full force. This signal can mean that some strange person has dared to walk in front of our house, or that one of the neighbor’s cats is sauntering across the porch, clearly invading their doggy territory.
Three weeks ago, Jim Robinson was thrilled to get the phone call he’d been waiting on for nearly a decade. When producers summoned the Columbus resident to New York City as a potential contestant on ABC’s special two-week 10th anniversary edition of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire,” it was the culmination of a dream.
Some words have the power to shake our foundation. “Cancer” is one of them. Six letters with the ability to turn life inside out. The road to becoming a cancer survivor is a challenging one, often filled with life-altering treatments, all while trying to maintain some semblance of daily life.
Philipp Freiherr von Boeselager died in May 2008. He was the longest surviving member of the most famous assassination plot against Hitler. Before he died he sat down for long conversations with Florence and Jérôme Fehrenbach, and together they have produced the memoir “Valkyrie: The Story of the Plot to Kill Hitler, by Its Last Member” (Knopf).
Unfortunately, more than 800 residents of Lowndes County have been diagnosed with some stage of Alzheimer’s disease. This very debilitating condition puts extraordinary demands on those afflicted and family members who are often unprepared and overwhelmed by its vicious attack on a loved one’s memory.
Seven years ago, Pam Stenzel grew weary of hearing the phrase, “Nobody told me.” After years of counseling young girls who found themselves in crisis pregnancies, the then-director of a crisis pregnancy center in Minnesota began to realize so many were completely unaware of the risks involved with sexual activity — that many had never been told about the consequences of their choices.
Dr. Clyde Lindley is a seasoned veteran when it comes to collecting autographs. The director of academic affairs at Mississippi School for Mathematics and Science has been doing it for the past 40 years.
Several years ago, Jimmy Richardson’s brother made an astounding suggestion. The two men had completed a cycling trip on the Natchez Trace, and brother Charles floated the idea of traversing America on bikes.
August is the cruelest month. (My apologies to that other Eliot, the one deficient in double letters.) August is my most-hated month. It is the time when summer drags on, like an unwanted house guest. Not much to do about it, just suffer and dream of cooler months.
Watercolorist Jennie Quinn Szaltis followed her artistic calling from Columbus, where she earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from Mississippi University for Women, to Pensacola, Fla., where she worked in interior design, her major field of study at the W.
The days when streetcars rumbled through Columbus’ city streets are long past. Their clanging rail-borne songs had faded away by 1917. But, for a nostalgic moment one recent afternoon, visions of a vintage trolley car reappeared in historic downtown, if only in miniature.
Preparations are well underway for the Tennessee Williams Tribute and Tour of Victorian Homes Sept. 7-13 in Columbus.
Goodness, they say, is its own reward. That’s not enough for those uber-wealthy folks who like to slap their names on the wings of hospitals or endow charities. But, certainly, most of us consider ourselves “good,” and take some comfort in the idea that we are decent people.
Some people become legends in their own time. One of the neat things about going to a water exercise class for non-athletes like me is being among people who are athletes, some of them legendary. Jake Propst is one of those from Columbus.
Bruce Barnett walked into the Wingate Inn Wednesday with a hefty collection of coins and small silver bars that has been sitting idle for years. The Columbus man had come to find out what the Treasure Hunters thought of it.
When Nick and Eleanor Hairston decided an in-ground pool installed behind their west Lowndes County home in 1974 had served its purpose, they opted for dramatic changes. Not many months after retiring from his post as Lowndes County administrator, Nick was ready to tackle a new project. With the help of savvy friends, family, the “Garden Tabloid” — and even garden guru Felder Rushing — he transformed the 34-by-17 foot pool into a bountiful backyard garden.
The Cold War is over; we won it and we have forgotten about it, because we have hotter things to worry about. Young people now, and those in the future, will watch, say, “Doctor Strangelove,” and be astonished that the world could have organized itself in such a way. If you really want to get in touch with how weird the Cold War years were, a wonderful introduction is “K Blows Top: A Cold War Comic Interlude, Starring Nikita Khrushchev, America’s Most Unlikely Tourist” (PublicAffairs) by Peter Carlson.
“Yeah, Brother Fiddle Player, hey, hey, hey!” Hilton Hammond calls from the audience, clapping her hands as retired Air Force Col. Jim Fain launches into “Orange Blossom Special.” The house band jumps in, and the audience is hooked, even the youngsters playing cards, or hide and seek under the tables.