Editorials

When My Mother Learned to Drive or Adding Insult to Injury

The story so far: It was 1975. My father was drunk. My father drove his car through a doctor's waiting room.There. Now you are all caught up.As a reporter, I write a lot of stories about a lot of people. As a reporter in a small town, I write a lot of stories about a lot of people that I know, because in a small town, everybody knows everybody, or at least it seems that way. So if you read this paper, and I assume that you do since you are reading it right now, then there is a good chance you have read a story or two about someone you know. It is one thing to read a story about someone you may have heard of but never actually met, like Miley...

Twinrivers

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