When I was a kid, there was no place in the world like my grandparents’ house in North todd. It wasn’t anything grand — just a simple farm house sitting quiet against the rolling fields — but when you stepped through the front door, it was like stepping into another world. A world where everything […]

Forty-eight years ago today, April 10, 1977, the morning started out peaceful and full of promise. The sun rose in a bright blue sky, casting a warm glow over our little part of the world. Everything felt normal—just like any other Sunday. My sister Karen had to leave the house that morning for something—I can’t

Every time I see an old yearbook photo or pictures posted on the Todd County Ky. Memories page, I feel that familiar tug—like a door cracking open to another lifetime. The faces stare back, frozen in time, from hallways and classrooms that once felt like the center of the world. And yet, in what feels like the

Back in my high school days, mornings didn’t start with books—they started with engines and rock ‘n’ roll. Before the first bell ever rang, we made our laps around the high school parking lot—windows down, cigarettes burning, and radios blasting. Somebody had Bob Seger’s “Night Moves” and “Fire Down Below” playing—the kind of songs that felt like they were written

The Baby Boomer generation includes those born between 1946 and 1964 Todd County, Kentucky, has always been a place where hard work and community spirit define its people. When World War II ended, young men returned home, eager to build their futures. Families grew, farms flourished, and a new generation was born—the Baby Boomers. From Guthrie

The rumble of big blocks and small blocks alike still echoes in my memory, the roar of exhausts bouncing off the darkened fields lining Allensville Road. Back in the ’70s, just a couple of miles outside of town, Todd County had its own little slice of speed—a quarter-mile stretch of straight blacktop we simply called

People often look back on the past with a warm, nostalgic glow, believing that those were the “good old days.” Yet, while living through those moments, they never realized their significance. This paradox is rooted in the nature of human perception, memory, and the way we construct meaning over time. The Illusion of the PresentThe

Every Saturday morning, my wife fills the kitchen with the warmth and aroma of a big country breakfast. And this morning, as I sat there drinking coffee and lost in my thoughts, the sizzle of bacon transported me back to my childhood on Grandpa’s farm. Mornings there didn’t unfold gently—it burst awake in a symphony

As you journey through life, certain moments stick with you—those times when, years later, you shake your head and think, What on earth was I thinking? Let me take you back to the late 1960s, a simpler time, when my sister Karen, our mom, and I ventured out to a store in Hopkinsville. I can’t quite recall

I have a confession to make. It’s not exactly something I’m proud of, but it’s a moment I still reflect on with a mix of amusement and regret. At the time, though, it felt like a stroke of rebellious genius. Let’s rewind to 1978—or at least that’s my best guess. My buddies and I were