If you were watching this September Friday, TV reporters waded in waters churned by Hurricane Florence. In the 1980s we sailed some of those waters. Flo—as former student John Taylor’s email abbreviated—threatened him and his four cats with flooding from Cape Fear River. Nikki and Lockwod Phillips in Morehead City reported winds blew off a large tree limb that broke house windows and damaged their roof. Also former students, now publishers of two weekly newspapers,
Author: Dick Elam
Skipping the “Final”
If you belong to the old teacher’s society–I taught 30 years–you have heard some excessive excuses. Even more imaginative than “my dog ate the paper”. I was teaching journalism students how to edit when the unfortunate Kent State, Ohio, shooting happened. Although two states away, the administration at Chapel Hill, North Carolina, said that “highly disturbed” students could choose to take their grade before final examination, and be excused from the test. A parade of
Hunting and Pecking
You read this yarn because even at nearly 90 years, I can peck a computer keyboard with only two fingers. “Hunt and Peck” on a typewriter was good enough when at age 14, the Abilene Reporter-News hired me, part time, to proofread and write sports stories. I only knew how to type with two fingers. Didn’t bother to take high school typing lessons. But at age 18, the University of Texas required you pass a
Alfie, the Cat
You may have heard Dionne Warwick sing “…What’s it all about, Alfie?” You may have seen the movie “Alfie”. We remember the cat Alfie. Met Alfie in 1975 when I moved into a 15-story Honolulu condominium. Alfie lived on the fourth floor, and he was famous for falling four floors. And surviving. Alfie leaped for a bird that lit on his balcony, missed the bird, landed in a tree beside the swimming pool. Swimmers helped
Country Doctor
Spending my summer in a small Indiana town , surrounded by corn and soybean fields as I write World War II historical fiction. Went to see my “Country Doctor” the other day. Besides my health, we have another common interest—book writing. Both of us have published a book with an independent publisher. Neither of us made the best-selling list. Four years ago, I bought and read his book: “Surviving and Thriving with a Chronic
Objectivity
In 1991 I wrote a letter to one of my journalism students that read “Journalism teachers stress that you include both sides in a controversial story. During 1949-1950, I edited “The Daily Texan”, the student newspaper at the University of Texas. I wrote columns and editorials, and suggested editorial cartoons—all criticizing racial segregation. Because of my editorials advocating an end to segregation, I received a cross burned in my honor at the Law School,
An Auction for a Veteran
“You wiggle your hand, Honey, you bought something.” The auctioneer got a laugh from the 90 plus people gathered in the VFW hall. Another laugh came when he put the Victoria Secret tote bag up for bids. “And there are other secrets in this bag.” Family and motorcycle friends were there on this Sunday afternoon to raise money for my second cousin Mike. Many had donated items for the auction. Mike wasn’t there. He is in
42
At age 12, I learned a different kind of “Bridge”, the sophisticated four-handed card game. A rancher named Jim Sedberry, and his two children, taught me “42”. You play “42” with dominoes instead of a deck of cards. Points are calculated from multiples of fives on the dominoes. This domino bidding game is named for a 42 “grand slam”. If you bid and win all seven “tricks”, you score 42 points. This game taught early-in-life ranch
Texas Rangers 2
Another Texas Ranger story I once reported, circa 1960s, told about the Ranger who raided a gambling game near Sweetwater, out in our West Texas. When the Ranger parked his pickup, the boys sitting at the table got a warning, took all the money and chips off the table, but held the cards they hadn’t shone. Six foot, seven-inch tall Texas Ranger walks in, leans near the door, watches, says nothing. Says nothing some more.
Single Engine
“If you have time to spare, go by air.” Said often by we licensed, single-engine, non-instrument rated private pilots. Storms, fog, darkness, repair frequently made us wait our one-engine, four person plane on the ground. Six decades later, I remembered that old saying because we had waited nine hours to board, for the second time, an airline flight from DFW to Indianapolis. The first morning boarding lasted 30 minutes. Then the pilot