Six Baltimore, Md., police officers are facing charges in the death of Freddie Gray, an African-American resident who died a week after suffering a spinal cord injury while being arrested April 12.
When the 15th and 17th Corps of Sherman's Army entered Kershaw District on February 23, 1865, at Peay's Ferry on the Wateree River west of Liberty Hill, then crossed the district in three days, and were poised to exit it on Lynches River at Young's Bridge, Tillers Ferry and Kelly's Bridge, locally the war was all but over.
My husband is like a relentless teenager. When he wants something, he persists until it's easier for me to say "yes" just to get him out of my hair.
Baseball and cursing have been a pair since the first days of the game.
WASHINGTON -- True words are often said in jest, it has long been said. But a harsher idiom has been taking shape in recent years: Jest is becoming the only way to express truth.
I like to write my weekly column on humorous topics when possible. During my months here, I've managed to sprinkle in some stories of goofy things that have happened in my life and there are more I would love to convey to you. I'm probably not as funny as I sometimes think I am, but those are still the kinds of musings I prefer.
I wanted to share with you selections from recent speeches I delivered in and around Camden, two on April 11 and one on April 18.
BISHOPVILLE -- Lee Correctional Institution, South Carolina's largest maximum-security prison, gets plenty of bad press -- from a riot and a lockdown in February to drone-delivered contraband a few days ago.
I am afraid I am slowly driving my beautiful, long-suffering Beloved nuts.
Several times during the nearly 15 years I've spent here at the Chronicle-Independent, I've had the privilege of covering the Upchurch & Jowers All-County Academic Team banquet, as I did a week ago tonight. As I continue to work on the education beat I took over a few months ago, I'm sure I'll attend many more of these special events in the years to come.
We stood in the charred remains of a life that once was -- my sister and I -- and said not a word. What was there to say? Finally, I spoke.
After I wrote a column last week detailing my secret dream of becoming a symphony conductor, my friend Waylon Fortenberry of Chesterfield County called me.
WASHINGTON -- When postal worker Doug Hughes -- otherwise known as the gyrocopter dude -- landed his gizmo on the West Lawn of the Capitol, he wasn't worried about being shot down, he says.
In what could be considered an extension of my column from last week, which was about the misuse and abuse of government programs such as "food stamps," EBT cards and welfare, I've been giving the matter a lot of thought on a broader scale.
It is often said South Carolina is a big small town where everyone knows everyone else. And if we don't know someone personally, then it's usually "I know who they are."
I was browsing through a community newspaper recently -- not this one -- when I came across photos from the senior prom at a particular high school.
Trigger warning: This column will include discussion of ideas which may conflict with your own.
I am a musician, so I am, of course, also a big music fan. As far back as my memory can stretch, way before I ever learned to play an instrument, I loved to listen to music. Mostly it was on the radio, but my parents and older sister had a few record albums, too.
Nothing instills fear in the heart and soul of humans as does a snake. Since the beginning of recorded history, snakes have been a symbol of evil, treachery, poison, etc., and because of this perception, misinformation and folklore, most people hate snakes. Personally I have no problem with snakes; roaches and tarantulas are a different story, but a snake? No worries.
WASHINGTON -- You know we're off to the races when the first slip of the tongue by the presumed Republican presidential front-runner consumes the news for days and launches the primary race in earnest.
I have a picture -- probably my favorite of my parents -- which sits on my desk in my office at home. It was taken circa 1960, give or take a year or two, on the evening of the West Point Founder's Day ball.
More than 60 percent of us who live in South Carolina today were born here. As native South Carolinians, we grew up imbibing the history, heritage and myths of the South. And there is no stronger myth of the South than the myth of the Lost Cause, as beautifully and brilliantly portrayed by the 1939 romantic historical film epic, Gone With the Wind.
Last week, I revealed my birthday wish come true of traveling to New Orleans next month -- my No. 1 choice of cities to visit I've never been in before.
It was over Sunday dinner when my sister told me what I did not know. A childhood friend, the red-headed, freckle-faced girl with laughing eyes and the brightest sense of humor possible, was sitting vigil with her husband as death crept close.
One of the groups I meet with on a regular basis is Student Cabinet, which is made up of students from each of our three high schools. It's always interesting and informative for me to hear the insights, opinions and perspectives from this very formidable group of young people. They don't hold back on what they think, which is a good thing.
It is a rare occurrence, but occasionally in the world of professional sports an individual comes along who becomes the standard bearer for his particular field of competition.
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