That’s About the Way It Was
by: Glynn Mann
(This is part of a book the late Ben Harlan Dyer sent me from Florida before his passing. Time and tide waits for no man. Think about it.)

by Forest Harvey
In the spring of 1943 I lived in Kehoe, Kentucky, 18 miles from Greenup, Kentucky on State Route 2.
My parents had ordered 200 Rhode Island red baby (Biddie) chicks from Sears and Roebuck. We picked them up at the post office in Kehoe, which was also Grandma Duncan’s General Store.
Very soon one of the chicks outgrew the others and dad said it was a pullet. She became my pet hen and I named her Hen-E-Pen. She would come up to me for food as well as to be rubbed on her back or craw. She also would fly up on my shoulder and knee.
by: Glynn Mann
(This is part of a book the late Ben Harlan Dyer sent me from Florida before his passing. Time and tide waits for no man. Think about it.)
As this Christmas holiday approaches, I’m reminded of a part of my life that took place many years ago. It was the winter of 1960 and being a boy of no more than four years old I had an adventure for sure.

It was just this weekend, in one of the local businesses in town that I was discussing the “Party Line” story with someone when they ask me “Do you remember when we went out to the antennae pole to change the

Some of you know exactly what I am referring to when I say we had a party line telephone, others may think I have lost my mind and cannot imagine such a thing. Those were the days when we shared a
by Forest Harvey
Sixty four years ago (1948-49) as a freshmen at Clinton County High School, the Class of 1952 set its sights on a trip to Washington, DC. Mary Ina Smith was
by Jane Schwenke
With Valentine’s Day coming up this week, I was reminded of a sweet little love story that happened in our family.
Several years