There's an old country song that has a line that asks “Can you bake a cherry pie?” Well, can you? I can make an acceptable cherry pie but my Dad's Aunt Maggie made the ultimate cherry pie. At least that's what the old folks said.

A Union County startup business got a big boost Feb. 15, as Sweet Southern Tumbling received a $10,000 check through the Clinch Powell Small Business Loan program funded by USDA Rural Development. Business owner Breann Welch has used the loan to upgrade to a larger space and purchase additional equipment, including a 42x42 cheer spring floor.

On February 14, 2018 another tragedy took place at the hand of a psychopath with a gun. 14 students, on the cusp of life, and 3 teachers were brutally gunned down at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, in Landmark, FL, during school hours. Before the funerals could even take place, insensitive idiots on both sides of the gun control debate began running their mouths. Gun control is obviously a touchy and complicated issue; hence the reason that it has not been solved yet.

I’m by no means an expert genealogist/researcher, but I’m surely an experienced one! Frequently persons come to me for help in compiling a family history. I am glad to help as much as I can.

So often when I ask for a grandparent’s name I’m told, “I don’t know–I just always called him grandpa–or I just always called her grandma.” Now, where does one start? There are many ways. Here are just a few suggestions. It is my hope that these suggestions will be useful to students in their history projects:

“Yours till Niagara Falls” or is it “Yours till the Statue of Liberty sits down?” Maybe it's “Yours till the United States drinks Canada Dry.” Could it be “Yours till they feed the corn on your toes to the calves of your legs?” No, that doesn't sound very nice. I know. It's “Yours till the barn dances and the fire escapes.”

Some people have pictures in their wallets or on their phones of the wives, children, grandchildren, etc. I have one picture of my wife in my wallet and maybe one of my stepson and me. I have several pictures on my phone of a special female who came into my life in May, 2009. It happened like this.

My wife was visiting the place where she lived before she married me, then as now occupied by her son and his girlfriend. One of the many cats that had been there had recently had kittens. The momma cat was run over by a car and died. No one knew where her kittens were.

I have a friend who told a humorous story about being in a meeting where someone was speaking of things that he knew to be untrue, downright bovine excreta. When he had taken all he could of it, he stood up, got up, slammed a dollar onto the table and cried out “gimme a bottle of that snake oil!” Snake oil is indeed a popular metaphor for anything being touted as true, but in reality is fraud. And those attempting to sell or convince you to accept something fraudulent are referred to as snake oil salesmen.

Whenever Mother and Dad had an argument, usually in bed at night, Mother had a litany of offenses Dad had been guilty of in the past. She never forgave him and she certainly never forgot. First on the list was when Dad punched Mother's brother, Uncle Johnny, in the nose and knocked him down. The second offense was the one I will now describe. Dad was officially listed as AWOL at the end of World War l. That sounds worse than what it was. I will explain.

Today we have much confusion in the Church about the word antichrist. However, when taken in context the scriptures are very plain about antichrist. The actual word “antichrist” is only mentioned 4-times in the Bible and all 4-times by the Apostle John. Just because the actual word is only used 4-times, does not lessen its importance, because the concept of "antichrist" is throughout the entire Bible.

Back in the 30's and the 40's small carnivals cross-crossed the country. It was before television and the Internet. Amusements were simpler back in the day. I'm not talking about the circus, just a carnival with some rides and a midway. They are gone forever.

I remember them. Dad allowed us one ride, a walk through the midway and a hot dog. What sights! What sounds! What smells! That was what childhood memories were made of. We went once.