Columns/Opinions

By Kenny Mitchell

Publisher

Tomorrow we will celebrate Veterans Day. There will be speeches, words of tribute and Taps will be played at ceremonies all across our area and our country. It is a day that we honor all of those who have served our country in the pursuit of freedom and defended it from all enemies, foreign and domestic.

It is truly an inspiring and emotional day, especially for those who wore the uniform and for the friends and families of all of our real heroes, alive or gone.

by Pam Kumpe

Drug abuse is killing our country and is the single most vile and despicable blight on our small towns and it is time we cared enough about what it is doing to all of us to do something about it.
While our area is in the midst of a heated debate on alcohol sales, and there is no doubt about the negative impacts of the over consumption of alcohol, why is there not an equal amount, or even more, attention being focused on what is really the most negative thing going on right under our noses.
We all know who the drug users are, we know where the drugs are being sold, yet we look the other way or pretend we don’t know, and most will say they do that out of the fear of reprisal, really the reason we turn a blind eye is apathy.
I know I have used that word a lot here in this space over the years, but it is true. Things go on in our little towns and our little corner of Texas because we simply do not care enough to do something, or say something.

It’s a state of mind.
It’s a devotion to a notion that there is something tangible, something solid in what is really a code of conduct. It is a sense of belonging to something more akin to family than a team sport.
It is school spirit.
And it is alive and well in our area as all of our schools have a deep rooted love not just for school colors, or a mascot, or even a team, but rather, for the family.
You hear and see it in New Boston with the signs, banners and cheers of “Lion Family” and you see it in Hooks in a sea of blue on game day. Out in Redwater there is pride in being a Dragon and in James Bowie and Maud, the love for their athletes, hometowns and schools is overwhelming.
Win or lose, the spirit of family remains.
In DeKalb, my hometown, it is about one thing. It is impossible to miss, easy to see and simple to attain.
It is called…Being a Bear.

Do you remember?
On the morning of September 11, 2001, everything was rocking along as normal here at the Tribune. Publisher Don Alexander was in his office doing whatever he did ( I have to admit, back in those days I didn’t know what that was) and the rest of us were just going about all that it took to put a newspaper together.
Betty Peace (Davis now) and her crew were doing their usual composing room stuff, editor Lew Cohn and I were going over stories for the next issue, and the office staff was handling their business.
This was the days before Facebook and Twitter and smartphones. We didn’t even have a TV in the office. We did not know about what was going on in New York City until my frightened wife called, and then we started scrambling.

It really has to stop.

There is an epidemic in our land and it is growing. It is spreading like a wildfire and that fire is getting way too close to home now. It is a sickness born of hatred and fueled by hatred. I have never seen it so bad, because it has never been so bad.

It has to stop now before I have to write a story about one of my friends. I pray to God that my friends like Curtis Cole, Whitney James, James Prince, Kevin Gray or Shawne Walraven never end up in a story in our newspaper like the names of Deputy Darren Goforth in Houston or Trooper Steven Vincent in southern Louisiana.

I pray to God that I am never a journalist that has to do a story like my friend Charlie Haldeman and do my job, despite my personal feelings or relationship with a local law enforcement officer.

by Pam Kumpe

This week, God used a car wreck and the resulting traffic jam to show me something, and remind me what is really important in life. If you will indulge me, maybe you can learn something too.
My son and I were leaving Dallas on Sunday afternoon, headed home and straight back to the office. As we were just getting underway, a huge traffic jam on IH-635 caused me to divert from heading back home on I-30 as usual, and instead taking I-20 towards Tyler.
As we neared Terrell, the thought came to me how much better it would be to hit SH 69 in Tyler and head south and find our way to the Texas Gulf Coast down around Port Arthur instead of going back to work.
The thought of making a few memories with my son instead of logging more hours at work on a Sunday night lured me away from my normal routine of duty to the job. It was a rare occasion, as my wife and kids would tell you. As it turned out, it was definitely the right decision.

by Pam Kumpe

So much to talk about this week with all of the things going on in our country from the SCOTUS decision, the banning of the Confederate flag, warnings of terror attacks and the general overall uneasiness that seems to prevail these days.
You have your opinions on each of these things, and so do I. Most likely mine do not line up with all of yours and in that vein, I would like to offer these thoughts.
Remember when running around the back yard catching lightning bugs in a Mason jar was cool? Or how about spontaneous touch football games or a handful of kids storming a sandlot for a baseball game?
Remember when rolling your jeans up and wading through a creek, or skipping rocks across a pond was a great way to spend a hot summer day? What about board games? Does anybody even play board games anymore?