THE PANDEMIC FELT so far away out here. My husband and I live eight miles south of Glen Rose—the nearest town of any size—barely over the Somervell-Bosque county line.
MOST OF THE VOTE counting is over. Most of the noise, with any luck at all, is behind us—although, the Electoral College voting happens in two weeks. Cross your fingers, if you haven’t stuck them in your ears.
THE CORONAVIRUS PANDEMIC has laid much of the American economy on its back—but a bright spot made the disaster less crippling than it might have been. That is the Paycheck Protection Program, which funneled money to workers through small businesses.
THE LAST 10 DAYS of election fracas have recalled to mind a prayer, from the evening of Nov. 4, 1992, less than 24 hours after William Jefferson Clinton defeated George H.
IN A POLITICAL ENVIRONMENT like Washington, D.C., the kinds of legal perils encircling Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton might be grounds for firing, impeachment, or congressional investigation. Paxton, indicted more than five years ago on securities fraud charges, has not yet had his day in court.
FOR OVER 11 DECADES, savvy Hemphill Countians have set their holiday clocks for 11:30 am on the first Friday in December—the date of the Annual WCTU Bazaar. Some of us schedule playoff football games around the event.
FOR ANYONE WORN-OUT from the election and disillusioned by the state of our politics (and that probably covers most of us), we now have the perfect antidote–Veterans Day.
THIS IS THE 200 HALL at Hemphill County Hospital. The entryway is draped in plastic, marked with signs warning visitors not to enter. The hall—which has been converted to serve as the hospital’s COVID Unit—is restricted now to medical personnel and the acute care patients who are hospitalized there.