When you grow up in a small town or spend considerable time in a small town living and breathing as part of the community, you become emotionally invested.
The more life changes the more it stays the same. A lot of change has occurred in front of my eyes over the last 40 years or so, but one thing that has not changed sure makes my heart smile.
In the summer of 1977 a bicycle gang rolled down the streets of Jennings with purpose and enthusiasm. Numbered around a dozen or so, the neighborhood collective had one destination in mind: The Strand Theatre.
Way back in December I was trying to come up with a fresh idea for our publication that can include local people. What I came up with was a fun idea to peek into the future 30 years and guess what life will be like in Ruston and Lincoln Parish in 2054.
My father had five brothers, and two of them served considerable time in the military. One chose military service as a career, and it just happened to be my godfather.
I have to admit that at times I’m guilty of living vicariously through my sons. When accomplishments come their way in life, I feel a happiness that far exceeds anything that has been bestowed on me.
Just this past week I was explaining to a friend of mine where my passion for cuisine began. As those close to me know, I view the kitchen as my oasis, where catharsis meets family tradition.
It was like being called up the major leagues when you’re toiling in the minors. Well, I can imagine anyway. The phone call came unexpectedly with a courteous voice on the other end.