It was quiet, so damn quiet. Wednesday evening. Myself flying solo, exiting Interstate 240, merging onto Patton Avenue and rolling into the heart of downtown Asheville. No traffic. No cars. No people. It was odd. 

Back in the 1980s, when I was telling stories in the Cope Crest Conference Center in Tiger, Georgia, I heard about Eliott Wigginton, who was teaching English in the Rayburn County school system.

Like everything in life, the holiday season is about perception. On one hand, you can view it as a commercialized frenzy or you can see it as a time to slow down and reflect, or maybe a little of both. I tend to fall in the combined category, but it hasn’t always been that way. 

Thanksgiving morning. The streets of downtown Waynesville are quiet save for a slight, crisp breeze whirling through from the mountain ridges cradling the community. Emerge from bed and peer out the window blinds onto the cloudy sky holiday unfolding in real time. 

(I started writing a Thanksgiving column, paused a moment, did a Google search and realized that I had shared this memory 10 years ago. It was published in this newspaper on Dec. 3, 2014. Hope it’s still worth a read.)

Moments, mostly the ones unplanned, are the stuff of important and lasting life memories. 

It’s not much after 9:30 on Sunday morning. I awoke in bed just as my girlfriend, Sarah, was heading out the door to have coffee and eggs with one of her good friends. Living in downtown Waynesville, she’d have to make her way quickly to Sunny Point Café in West Asheville before the usual Sunday rush of brunch folks and out-of-towners. 

In the midst of the most important and crucial presidential election in my 39 years of existence in this country and, perhaps, also that of my now elderly parents and long-gone grandparents, I decided to order a New York Strip Steak, medium with sautéed onions. 

I’m a ripened 64, and I still love real newspapers. However, my affinity for online browsing is also taking root. Statistics show that many my age are making the same transition. 

When my time comes, if there is some gathering for people to pick over my days and ways, I expect someone will inevitably say, “That old boy loved baseball and would bore you silly talking about the damned Dodgers.

Approximately 20,000 murders occurred in the United States in 2023. These killings ranged in scope from gang battles to domestic violence.