Recently an inquiry came to the South Caroliniana Library from the Adirondack Museum in Saranac Lake, N. Y., concerning an Edward T. Start (1867-1952) photograph in their collection. Along with the inquiry came a copy of the photograph and Start's obituary from the February 5, 1952, Adirondack Daily.
I love my job. As harried as I can be sometimes, I really do love it. I think long-time readers of this column know that by now -- that I love to write stories about Kershaw County, especially in Camden, which has been my primary beat (along with healthcare) for 14 years. You know that I'm passionate about the S.C. Freedom of Information Act and that I truly believe it doesn't just benefit journalists like myself, but individual citizens like you.
Let's talk about grumpy people. Fie on them.
I was truly proud to be able to report during the past week an historical event right here in Camden. It was the naming of the I-20 bridge that crosses the Wateree River for Kershaw County's three Medal of Honor recipients. The Medal of Honor is the greatest and most prestigious award bestowed on those serving in the United States military and to receive it means you've done something exceptionally special, often at the cost of your life.
One of my favorite movies is the 1969 classic Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid; since it came out I've watched it probably 20 times.
Tech companies are finally spilling some of their most sought-after secrets.
I completed my bachelor's degree the first week of August, so I was thrilled to snag a job at the Chronicle-Independent a little more than a week later.
Tax inversions. Double Irish with a Dutch sandwich. Spinning off tangible assets into real estate investment trusts. Son-of-BOSS shelters.
It has become somewhat of an art for me, that of studying Southern culture and deciphering what makes us different from others as well as downright peculiar among ourselves.
Our family has spent many a pleasant summer day with several families from the Dillon area and the experience is always enjoyable and the manner in which they address their friends, neighbors and kinfolk is like taking a step back in the "Old South." Everyone seems to have a prefix or you are a tourist just stopping by.
There is no longer any doubt that America still has a long way to go before it can say that it has grown beyond the prejudices and fear and tragic cycle of action and reaction when it comes to relations between blacks and whites.
The laboratories of democracy are blowing up.
I have admitted in this column many times that I have become a "grumpy old man." Well, folks, here I go again. I often blame technology and the instant sharing of news and opinions on many of society's ills, and that's what I'm doing again today.
I have many colleagues who are of the turf persuasion and we have come to an understanding to agree to disagree. I think grass is a weed, they think a tree is a weed -- in nature the two aren't meant to meet. This is why only grass grows on the Great Plains and only trees grow in the forest. But since we aren't on the Plains or in the forest, we try and get plants to co-exist in arranged landscape designs we like to see.
Last week we spent a few minutes talking about being the best in the world in a particular field.
Renee Zellweger turned up last week looking nothing like ... well, nothing like Renee Zellwegger.
First off, let me wish one and all a happy, safe and fun Halloween. I hope it brings you all that you hope for. But, that's not my main topic this week.
WASHINGTON -- Monica Lewinsky is trying to make lemonade out of 16-year-old lemons. Good for her, and good, ultimately, for us.
July 27 marked the beginning of the most stressful week of my life. It began with the surprising news of my aunt's passing, and on top of having to deal with that, I also had to get through my last week of two summer classes and do work for two other classes that would end the following week.
Ben Bradlee became editor of The Washington Post the year I was born, 1965. He stepped down when I was 26, in 1991, the year after I moved to the Midlands of South Carolina.
A friend of mine, long embroiled in upsets, distractions, problems and tribulations, called one day to announce happily that she was learning to "let things roll right off my back."
Ebola is scary. It has scared the bejesus out of us here in South Carolina, nationally and literally all over the world.
The issue of road funding -- or, to put it slightly differently, the question of how South Carolina should fix its broken road system -- is now a constant topic in politics and the media. A fair number of state lawmakers have therefore begun to advocate what politicians always advocate when they don't want to make tough decisions about the budget: raising taxes, specifically the fuel tax.
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