Corydon Times

Garden Road - January 24, 2016
There was a time when nothing was more important than laughter. It kept me up past midnight for the late shows and their monkeyshines, and my father would become irate if he woke up and found me watching television when we had farmwork at first dawn. He did not need to say anything, however, if we walked beans the next day when the dew was on and I hadn’t slept long enough. Even rising early to avoid the heat, the sun was remorseless, and the roots of pigweed just as stubborn.
Jan 23, 2017, 09:22

Garden Road - January 17, 2016
Some describe it as a ghost. Others see it as a curse. Of this issue most personal to my descendants, which is the compound dioxin, all I can say is inheritance means more than living off a patriarch’s name and money. Children can’t be written out of this will. “Rethinking the Cost of War,” an article by Mike Hixenbaugh of The Virginian-Pilot and Charles Ornstein of ProPublica, asks the question: ‘What if casualties don’t end on the battlefield, but extend to future generations?’
Jan 16, 2017, 10:51

Garden Road - January 10, 2016
West of our home when we were growing up, my older brother Grant built a tree house in the sugar maple closest to the white hog shed. The main trunk was conducive to nailing boards for footholds and handgrips, allowing for a landing before the more perilous climb to the pinnacle, which amounted to repurposed wood hammered to form a pallet. It was safe enough. Grant had planned the venture carefully after a failed attempt to build steps up the tree that shadowed, and was shadowed by—depending upon the time of day and the slant of winter light—the rusted windmill, one skeleton casting the outline of its ribs on the other. After exploration, my brother chose a sugar maple with a broader base, and then he went to work.
Jan 9, 2017, 09:18

Garden Road - January 3, 2016
They say the next most stressful event after the death of a family member is moving. I have had plenty of both to last a while. My most recent relocation was with the Times-Republican newspaper, as we have moved our office after several decades from the northwest side of the Corydon square to just north of the Littlest Cake Shop and Deli.
Jan 3, 2017, 09:18

Garden Road - December 27, 2016
We see several people die in vehicle wrecks each year in Wayne County. I found them in print as I wrote my 2016 summary. Exactly two decades ago on New Year’s Eve, my cousin Matt Selby was killed in a car accident. My grandmother tried to call us after midnight, but my parents just missed reaching the telephone. The news came soon enough. It really did not seem real at first. Matt and I grew up neighbors, his parents on one side of Garden Road, and my family on the other. I had not seen Matt in a while before he passed away. We had both moved from our childhood homes on Medicine Creek, so any loss I felt was elusive. Matt still seemed like the child I remembered—ornery and rebellious as he was—and therefore entrenched in the past, stuck in my mind only. He was an idea. It represented childhood. Him being gone was therefore impossible, because I still recalled everything, and the memory was anything but dead. We were still climbing trees and riding bikes.
Dec 27, 2016, 11:06