|Tue, Feb 20, 2018 07:34 AM
|Wednesday, March 8, 2017 issue
|2003-08-27 communities |
|This n' That|
Mending fences — literally
|always miss the good stuff.|
Last Friday, some unfortunate soul missed the turn on the street in front of our office in Paintsville and crashed his vehicle into the front of our building. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured in an accident that has long been anticipated by our staff.
The Big Sandy News' Paintsville office is always an accident waiting to happen; in fact, this was not the first time someone has plowed into the front of the building. Because we are located on the corner of a very busy street that is traveled by students at the Mayo campus and Paintsville High School, we have always cringed at the close of a school day, wondering if that particular day would be the day we get some uninvited guest through the front door. Luckily for us, last Friday's guest — who was not a student, by the way — missed the front door; unluckily for him, he plowed right into the brick building.
The accident reminded me of a wreck I had when I was 16 years old, not too long after I got my driver's license. I, too, was driving down Third Street (but in the opposite direction) and was getting ready to turn right onto Brown Street when I heard someone yell, "Hey, Tony!" Being young and stupid, I turned my head in the direction of the voice at the same time I was turning onto Brown Street, and I continued turning the wheel of my car when I should have straightened it, crashing into the redwood fence of the house on the corner of the street.
Talk about being embarrassed.
Of course, the accident was completely my fault, and the driver's education teacher at Paintsville High School for years thereafter used my stupidity as a lesson in how not to drive a car. The accident damage was forever imbedded in my car, and for years thereafter I would have to tell the embarrassing story about why there were red markings on the brown paint of my Oldsmobile Omega.
The car and red marks are gone, of course, but the embarrassing memories live on.
* * *
I'm very happy that Bud Perry, our late leader's father, has decided to join the staff for awhile and oversee our newspaper. I wish it could have been under different circumstances, though.
Bud was the publisher of The Paintsville Herald when Scott hired me to work there, but he later retired and turned everything over to his son. One of the things I remember about Bud while he and I worked together at the Herald was his telling my dad that I was doing a good job but that I was a terrible speller.
He was right.
I had gone to the newspaper from the radio station, where spelling wasn't too important since the listeners didn't have to see what I was reading. Often times I would spell words the way I thought they should have been spelled, especially the long ones that were hard to pronounce. My spelling method changed drastically when I went into the newspaper business.
I hope my spelling has improved since the last time Bud and I worked together, but I feel compelled to let him in on a little secret.
All the credit goes to the spell checker on my computer, and sometimes even it makes a mistake.
It's a good excuse anyway.