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Columns

  • True Colors


    “Ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country.”
    John F. Kennedy

    When a country is filled with people that live the quote you see above, then that country can be called great.
     I know a man that lived it everyday of his life.
     My wife called me at work last week to say that Washington County resident Mr. Hugh L. Grundy had very quietly passed from this world to the next at the age of  95.  He is that man.
     Do you know who Mr. Grundy is?

  • Chesser is alive and hopefully well, thankfully


    I hope that Randall Chesser is in a comfy bed, feet propped up, with a warm, fluffy comforter tucked over his slight body.

    I hope that his favorite television show is on in front of him, or his favorite game, or that someone is reading his favorite book to him.
    I hope that he is surrounded by his favorite aunts, uncles, cousins, relatives.
    I hope that he’s wearing a big grin, one like I’ve seen in the school photos of him.
    I hope Randall Chesser feels safe and secure, rested, fed and comfortable.

  • Hello there, again


    Hi Washington County. It’s me again.

    Usually you’ll find me over on the sports page. Today, you get a double dose of me.
    As you read last week, The Springfield Sun is without publisher Jeff Moreland. He has moved on to become publisher and editor at The Central Kentucky News-Journal in Campbellsville. We don’t yet have a new fearless leader.

  • Be careful, those words could be your last


    I was standing at the street corner, waiting for the light to change when I saw him out of the corner of my eye. He was waving his left arm from his car window, urgently trying to get my attention.

    Then, pulling out of his parking space, he stopped in front of me, blocking me from crossing the street. Only after he lowered his electric window on the passenger side could I see who it was.

  • S. Wiley On Politicians


    Do you people remember Mr. Wiley?

     Mr. S. Wiley, or Slick to his friends and the folks at the FBI, is my 93-year-old “personal advisor”, formerly from New York City.  Mr. Wiley used to be my financial advisor until he lost all my money, and that of the rest of his clients.  I’ve been holding him hostage in an attempt to recoup my loses from his loved ones.  However, strangely enough, no one’s come looking for him despite my many ransom letters.

  • Gardens and Kentucky rain


    Summer’s garden season is winding down, gardens are flooding our county kitchens with buckets of tomatoes, squash, corn, peppers, cucumbers, beans, okra; more food that I can put on the table in one meal, so the refrigerator drawers are stuffed. 

    Counter tops and pantry shelves are packed with shining jars of garden blessings, as colorful as grandmother’s crazy quilt, both destined to warm up a long winter night.

  • Be not afraid


    Be not afraid.
                     — God
     
    It’s pretty scary out there isn’t it?
    You know what I mean.   
    It doesn’t matter where you work or where you live in this old world.  It’s like everything has dropped off a cliff.  Many families are nervously waiting to see what happens next, if it hasn’t already.

  • Saying goodbye


    Goodbyes are never easy, but they are often necessary. This one is no different.

    For those who may not know, I have received a promotion and will now serve as publisher and editor of the Central Kentucky News-Journal in Campbellsville. The CKNJ is owned by Landmark Community Newspapers, Inc., which also is the parent company of The Springfield Sun.

  • An old practical joker

    Some 38 years ago I worked on Main Street at a clothing store called Cunningham’s.  You wouldn’t know it now, but Cunningham’s was a family-run business that operated for almost 150 years in Springfield.  
    It was the anchor of all commerce in downtown Springfield, and probably hit its peak in the 1940s.  It was located right across from the present-day Springfield State Bank.  The last Cunningham, Clifton, died a few years ago, and the store sits empty today.

  • Let's put a stop to school bullies

    Not because I was a “green” freshman or because I was a little fish in a bigger pond. Rather, it was terrifying for me because I was bullied.
    There were a group of girls that got a rise out of picking on my twin sister, our best friend and me. It started out with spitballs being thrown at us in the gymnasium bleachers. The spitballs eventually turned into big wads of bubble gum. And, of course, name-calling was a common occurrence.