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Today's Features

  • Mt. Pleasant Baptist

  • His name was Topsy. During the summers of the 1920s, he would faithfully plod across Cedar Creek carrying a little girl to her cousin’s playhouse by an old sycamore tree. Munching on the lush green foliage along the creek he would patiently wait for his charge’s signal to make the return trip home.
    As time marched on, Topsy would deliver his owner,  Margaret Alice Karsner, to school or take her on amazing adventures galloping across the fields of her Monterey farm.

  • There was fog in the valley this morning, and though I usually get up about 7 a.m., it felt like 5 a.m. to me. Fall has snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking.

  • It was one of the post-Irma, pre-power-turned-back-on days and my husband and I were at a local restaurant for dinner.
    A man sitting next to us recognized me as “the lady from the newspaper,” and we started talking about the hurricane we had just survived and how God had spared us.
    The man confessed that he wasn’t a regular churchgoer, maybe went four or five times a year, but he was for sure going to go to church that Sunday.
    “God answered the prayers of people who prayed,” he said.

  • Mt. Pleasant Baptist

  • His slender long-fingered hands rest atop a cane. Yet, the stately white-haired gentleman in the picture sits erect, and his finely chiseled features reflect a strength that seems to deny his frailty or the need for a walking stick.
    The handwritten caption below the picture identified the Owen countian as “Uncle George 98 years,” and this image of George S. Forsee has become a treasured piece of Owen County history.

  • I hate getting up before it’s good light. If this were Tuesday, I’d still be in bed, but duty calls.
    Wanda has been busy this week. We both went to Catherine Raisor’s funeral last Monday. Not a good way to start the week. Barbara and Joyce were there. Joyce and Wanda’s uncle Jimmy used to visit her often when she was still at home in Frankfort. She lived close to her uncle, Harold. She had lived a long and sometimes hard life, but she was a wonderful woman and was always ready to help a friend. She will be missed.

  • By Jeneen Wiche

  • In the 1700s families from Virginia and the Carolinas traveled with friends and neighbors into the wilderness of Kentucky. They joined together in large groups for defense against Indian attacks and frontier brigands, and to offer each other assistance in clearing the forest and building homes. Before long communities dotted the landscape of the Commonwealth and these small villages and towns created an unforgettable and enduring history which helped define the character of Kentucky

  • I jumped the gun last week when Wanda’s news wasn’t on the computer when I got up and turned it on. I hadn’t had my coffee and decided not to call Fay and forget it for the week. So, I did.
    I got a call from her mid-morning asking if I was sick. Fay had called her and told her she hadn’t heard from me. I told her I hadn’t heard from her and just called the paper and told them I was slipping the column that week. She said she had sent her contribution. I told her to send it again and would add it to this week’s column, so here it is.