Olivia Fowler

On The Way

By Olivia Fowler

If while traveling in a vehicle the interior becomes too hot for comfort, the air conditioner can be turned on. Under ordinary circumstances the vents can be adjusted for the desired air flow, and a cool comfortable trip is guaranteed.

Only cool air should stream from the vents. Under no circumstances should pieces of acorns shoot out. We take so much for granted in our high-tech world that when there is a hitch in the smooth operation of our machines we

Ben Robinson

All About Ben

BY Ben Robinson

It’s October, and I really don’t have anything appropriate to wear.

Pink is the official color of October, as this is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. And, pretty much by design, I don’t own anything pink. My brother Thom had a shirt that certainly looked pink to me, nut he said it was actually “chartreuse.” He’s a dyer, so I have to trust him on colors, especially ones I cannot spell.

I toyed with the idea of buying a pink tie, but remembered that if there is any way out of it, I will not wear a tie. That might be a reason why I’m in my late

Ben Robinson

All About Ben

By Ben Robinson

I’m so excited. Monday was my first day working part-time for the Courier. I will be working Mondays and Tuesdays, then running my usual route on Wednesdays, and filling in when needed the rest of the week. We will work out exactly what I will be covering, but I imagine it will be like most other weekly newspapers — you cover what you need to, then worry about if anybody else is covering something later before the paper goes to press.

It’s exciting because I will be doing what I love to do. The next part in my recovery is to put ill feelings that may be lingering behind me.

I just need to concentrate on doing this new job to the best of my ability. Putting the past behind me is the sign that I can be a well-adjusted adult. The future is what I need to concentrate on.

It took a little bit of getting used to. Getting up early Monday morning was an adventure. Getting ready and making sure my injured knee was not going to give me problems was another.

We haven’t written about the injured knee much yet. At home I tripped over a metal box and cut my knee badly. I should be thankful that I did not cut any muscles or tendons, or do any serious damage. But my shallow self keeps concentrating on the fact that I did injure myself.

The doctors took care of my injury well, but for a few days I had to carry a bag with me that essentially caught the blood coming out my leg. Not a good conversation starter: “Hi, I am Ben, and this is the bag I bleed into.” It doesn’t really attract females.

So when the doctors took away my “blood bag” last week, I was happy. I really did not care if I had a job. I no longer had to keep my blood, so I was ahead of the world.

So now I just keep the leg bandaged and I hope soon that too will be a thing of the past. There’s no excuse for me to not be able to cover any story, and I look forward to the challenge.

Of course part of this process involves you. A newspaper does not prosper by covering what a reporter is interested in. It needs to concentrate on what the readers want. So if you have any story ideas, no matter how silly you may think they are, please give me a call. I believe that there are no bad story ideas, just bad writers who do not think well enough to make something interesting.

So the Ben Robinson era at the Pickens County Courier has officially begun. From what I know about weekly newspapers, if it’s a success, the credit will need to go to these wonderful people I am working with. But if it’s a failure, you can blame me.

Olivia Fowler

On The Way

By Olivia Fowler

My grandparents eloped. She was a teacher and he was a farmer. They came from two political families from opposite camps, hence the elopement.

Grandmama was 26 years old, teaching in a one room school house in Allendale, N.C. She drove home every Friday afternoon in a buggy her Papa sent to pick her up in. She idolized her Papa and never considered marrying without his approval until Granddaddy appeared on the scene. Our Granddaddy was engaged to someone else before he met Grandmama. He and his fiancé had already built a new house on a portion of his farm and had selected furniture for it. Grandmother was beautiful, bright and much-courted

Olivia Fowler

On The Way

by Olivia Fowler

This summer’s garden is coming to an end. The cucumbers and squash were first to begin and first to end. Tomatoes suffered from excess rain, but our corn loved it. All the different kinds of peppers thrived. We had a good crop of blueberries and enough blackberries for pies. Green beans were late but finally arrived. And we’ll have okra until frost.

But now the bounty of summer is fast fading. Soon we’ll have turnip greens, Swiss chard and maybe kale.

Of all the vegetables, I’ll miss fresh tomatoes the most. I’ll also miss the

Nicole Guttermuth

A New Day

by Nicole Guttermuth

Em loves America’s Got Talent and recorded it religiously on the DVR this summer so she could watch it at her leisure.

Early on in the competition there was a female contestant who held bowls in each hand and flipped them into the air, catching the bowls in perfect balance atop her head, while riding a unicycle.

I can’t imagine being able to ride a unicycle or catch anything with my hands

Editor’s Note: This is the final installment of a multi-part series from Nicole recounting a commencement speech by writer George Saunders. The first two parts were published in the last two issues.

Nicole Guttermuth

A New Day

By Nicole Guttermuth

When young, we’re anxious — understandably — to find out if we’ve got what it takes. Can we succeed? Can we build a viable life for ourselves? But you — in particular you, of this generation — may have noticed a certain cyclical quality to ambition. You do well in high-school, in hopes of getting into a good college, so you can do well in the good college, in the hopes of getting a good job, so you can do well in the good job so you can….

“And this is actually OK. If we’re going to become kinder, that process has to include taking ourselves seriously — as doers, as accomplishers, as dreamers. We have to do that, to be our best selves.

“Still, accomplishment is unreliable. ‘Succeeding,’ whatever that might mean to

Olivia Fowler

Olivia Fowler

On The Way

By Olivia Fowler

Our English teacher in high school, Lil Buie, was the most inspiring teacher I ever had.

Our school was small, with only 200 students enrolled in 12 grades. Mrs. Buie taught English, World History and American History. We learned to love these subjects because she did. She taught us how to express ourselves on paper.

No student fortunate enough to be taught by Mrs. Buie emerged from her classroom without a better understanding and command of the English language. She hated the hackneyed phrases we littered our creative writing assignments with and was always

Olivia Fowler

On The Way

By Olivia Fowler

Remember how we first became involved in Vietnam? First we sent “advisors.” Then “boots on the ground.” Just a few in the beginning. Then we saw the war escalate. The draft was in place, and anyone 18 and older could be sent. And we sent them and sent them and sent them.

Many were killed. Many more were damaged. Some were held prisoner and were tortured for information. We watched these events unfold on the nightly news. And in the end we saw our helicopters lifting off while those aboard dislodged South Vietnamese from the landing gear.

Young men came home maimed, addicted and destroyed. Some died later from

Editor’s Note: This is the second of a multi-part series from Nicole recounting a commencement speech by writer George Saunders. The first part was published in last week’s issue.

Nicole Guttermuth

A New Day

by Nicole Guttermuth

That I regret most in my life are failures of kindness.”

This is the statement that really drew me into Saunders’ commencement address. In our culture we so often define success in terms of job status and material possessions. I appreciate his position. Here is the second part of his speech:

“Those moments when another human being was there, in front of me, suffering, and I responded…sensibly. Reservedly. Mildly.

“Or, to look at it from the other end of the telescope: Who, in your life, do you remember most fondly, with the most