Our readers have spoken. You won’t find a single case of the F-word in this article, and perhaps never again in this newspaper.
When I was a little girl we had a Victrola sitting atop the stairs in our split-level home. Occasionally my dad would gently lift the top, place a record on the turntable, wind the crank and set the needle so Hank Williams, Sr. or Johnny Cash could fill our living room with their distinctive voices. My dad would grab my sister or me and we would swing around and dance, the music part of our memories.
By Mike Leatherwood • Guest Columnist | When I was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the Army Corps of Engineers in 1963, I took this oath: “I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.”
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