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The Kids are Alright

If you consume any form of national media, you may have heard our young people are lost, have no motivation, direction or moral compass. You heard wrong.
The Kids are Alright

Online Dating

This third version of me has to step out a bit. In my 13th month alone, now, I have noticed how much I miss talking.
Online Dating

Watch Your Speed

To the Editor: At 65 miles per hour, sing – “Highways Are Happy Ways” At 75 miles per hour, sing – “I’m But A Stranger Here, Heaven Is My Home” At 85 miles per hour, sing – “Nearer, My God To Thee” At 95 miles per hour, sing – “When The Role Is Called Up Yonder, I’ll Be There” At 100 miles per hour, sing – “Lord, I’m Coming Home” Spending 50+ years in property and casualty insurance and now retired, I find these songs just as true today. Good reminders.

International Plea

To The Editor: Patriotic Americans in Fayette County and surrounding counties need to call upon their Congressman, Michael McCaul, today to take whatever actions needed to grant Ukraine as well as Sweden and Finland immediate membership in NATO. Without delay, enforce a narrow humanitarian no-fly zone to escape from areas where the Russians are committing mass executions of Ukrainian civilians or laying siege to areas where civilians are located (such as the bombed factory surrounded by Russians in Mariupol through which Putin ordered that not even a fly shall be allowed to pass.) When Putin’s Soviet Union collapsed, America promised to protect the Ukrainian people in exchange for Ukraine giving up its nuclear weapons.

Same Wavelength

To the Editor: I have enjoyed columns by Brenda Miles ever since we moved to La Grange 20 years ago. She is a great writer who gets my attention with each column.

Get to Work, County

To The Editor: Fayette County government, the article in the local paper about the trash problem in the area was nothing but hot air. You are not doing anything to fix the trash issue.

That Little Voice

Easter has come and gone, the black patent leather shoes purchased and worn, a new dress bought and shown off on Easter Sunday, the fake grass filled multicolored basket put away on the top shelf in the back closet, most of the colored eggs hidden in the yard found and broken, the chocolate rabbit’s ears eaten, and the local Easter Egg Hunt a memory.
That Little Voice
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