Editorial Opinions
Light at
the end of
the tunnel
Sometimes it’s hard to see
the light at the end of the tunnel. Indeed, sometimes the
light simply isn’t there.
It had certainly dimmed
many months ago on future prospects for the vacant
Townsend poultry plant in
Siler City.
Once a dominant part of the
local economic landscape,
poultry operations in Siler
City seemed a thing of the
past and the notion that the
industry may return seemed
increasingly remote, non-existent even, taking the pessimistic viewpoint.
But news that broke late last
week regarding a potential
new use for the Townsend facility and a return of poultry
production to Siler City was a
reminder that even though the
tunnel may be long and the
light at the end dim, if visible
at all, doors that look closed
and locked can be re-opened.
The news, covered in more
detail in our front page coverage in this edition, is that
a startup poultry production
company based in neighboring Moore County is making
steps toward reviving the dormant poultry industry in Siler
City.
This would mean a large
financial investment in Siler
City, the return to use of a facility that has gone mostly unused in the last several years,
and the creation of many badly-needed jobs.
In short, it’s very good
Randall
Reflects . . .
By
Randall
news.
And it, of course, is not the
only good news in western
Chatham County.
Efforts remain underway to
make the Chatham/Randolph
megasite a reality, which
would of course mean even
greater economic investment
and the creation of even more
jobs.
While it felt for a distressingly long period of time that
we were reporting unpleasant
news about commercial interests in Siler City, these recent
developments are a distinct
and pleasing change of pace.
And that light at the end of
the tunnel? It’s coming into
sharper focus as these developments progress.
Getting used
to what we’re
Country bands, GPS’s used to differs
Jeff Davis photo
What a beautiful sight . . .
Reflections of clouds and emerging sun rays form on the water in the scene above. On most occasions scene has to come together
perfectly for all to be seen. It can’t be too windy and the sun has got to be just right, along with the passing clouds. It’s about being
in the right place at the right time. Guess Chatham News/Record photographer Jeff Davis just happened by at the right time!
and dirt roads, oh my!
Those of you who know my
daughter, Brittany, knows that
she plays in a band. A country music band. Not a country music band that plays the
old stuff, like Porter Wagner
and Loretta Lynn, but more
like The Band Perry, Miranda
Lambert, Jason Aldean . . .
the new country music.
So our house is filled with
acoustic guitar chords playing, then playing again and
then playing some more. She’s
a whole lot better at it than I’ll
ever be!
I guess you can say I got her
started in guitar playing, giving her one for Christmas
when she was about 5 years
old. I was self taught, picking up a book on the chords
and then practiced enough
to where I could play some
tunes.
My favorites were Peter,
Paul and Mary, Simon and
Garfunkl and my all-time favorite, John Denver.
The folk stuff!
I still liked the harder stuff
too, Boston, Kiss and The
Doobie Brothers, etc.
My wife and I travel to the
places the band plays, wherever it may be, not only to help
the band load and unload, but
enjoy the music. And the band
she plays in, Huckleberry
Blue, based out of Sanford, is
good, if I do say so myself.
The two lead singers, Tim
Hair and Shelley Kelly harmonize well together and the
rest of the band blends in very
nicely, from the drummer, to
the lead guitar player, to the
My
Line
By Jeff Davis
bass and then to Brittany.
When we travel I have my
trusty GPS on hand to find
some of these places cause
it’s just easier. Of course, you
kinda have to know which
way you’re going to begin
with so the work not always
on the GPS. Technology
these days are amazing.
Recently they played
in Rougemont, north of
Durham.
A place I’ll call “Something,
Something Country Club.” I
had checked on the internet
to get the address so I could
plug it into my trusty GPS so
we could find our way on the
North Carolina highways and
byways and dirt roads.
Our Staff
www.thechathamnews.com
www.thechathamrecord.com
Editor/Publisher: Alan Resch
Managing Editor: Randall Rigsbee
News: Bill Willcox, John Hunter,
Mike Gates
Photography: Jeff Davis
Sports: Don Beane, R.C. Duckson
Advertising: Deirdre Brown, Jason Justice
Office: Brenda Binkley, Florence Turner, Marie Webster
Production: Steve Roberts, Andy Meeks, Doris Beck
And after a quick supper at a
Chick-Fil-A in Durham, cut
the GPS on and my better half
typed in the information.
I knew we were on the right
path, basically cause I read
a road sign that said I was 19
miles from Rougemont and
our destination. Miles clicked
by, glancing out the window
to see fields and fields of corn
that had yet to be harvested for
the winter. Soybeans, or I guess
that what is was, growing yet in
another field passed by.
Then that lovely voice called
out to me, “In one mile, turn
right.” Easing up on the accelerator, our truck slowed down,
getting ready to turn, which we
did. The the voice called out
one more time, “Turn right in
.5 miles.”
Man, that was a little shorter
than I thought.
We travelled our half of a mile,
then turned . . . down a dirt
road. That’s when the wheels
started churning. Not on the
dirt road, but in my head. “No
way, it couldn’t be out here” I
told my wife.
And the GPS blared out,
“You’ve reached your destination. Destination on right.” We
looked to the right and over by
a brick house was a rather large
looking dog, with a log chain
on, looking like he was ready
to ‘take a bite outta crime.’
On the other side of the road,
which I had always heard was
greener, was a sorta old looking
house with old cars, rusting
away, tin cans strung up in a
garden, hoping to scare off the
birds and wildlife.
THAT’S when I stopped the
truck, put her in reverse and
made my way backwards,
cautiously.
We gathered in that that was
not the place that we needed
to be at.
After a short discussion and I
mean short discussion we all
agreed that we would drive on
down the road a little ways.
So I watched the GPS, which
showed me that we were either flying through clouds or
that the road had all of a sudden disappeared.
Brittany and Janet checked
their I-Phones to look at the
address and after noting we
were 5 miles from our destination, (dumb GPS) kept driving.
Finally after a short panic attack, we finally did reach our
Country Club.
And the band played on.
And we finally made it home,
a different way, I might add,
than the way we came.
You would think that with all
this technology we have in the
world today that a GPS would
be able to find the way that we
needed to go. Wherever it may
be!
I hope you find your way to
where you’re going so you
don’t hear, “Recalculating,
recalculating!”
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Within the past few weeks
I’ve been to more big cities
in a short time than ever before – Atlanta, Virginia Beach,
Montgomery and Birmingham
two times.
And as my dearly departed
father-in-law used to say on
ore than one occasion after
he’d been only to Asheboro or
maybe Greensboro, “I’d rather
be on my road.”
I know what he meant.
Movin’
Around . . .
By Bob
Wachs
Granted, those metropolitan
areas have some advantages.
If you run out of milk at 2:00
in the morning and you’re not
afraid to venture out of your
house or apartment or condo
or wherever you live you can
find an all-night grocery open
somewhere.
Not so in Bonlee or Bynum.
And if you’re interested in
creative art, maybe graffiti
even, you can find it on walls
and railroad cars and bridge
foundations near train stations,
which I saw in three of the
above mentioned cities. I’m
all about creativity and much
of that artwork is outstanding, although I usually don’t
understand what the artist was
trying to say. But I can’t help
but wonder how much better
served society would be if that
energy and creativity were
channeled into positive areas
and uses.
Big cities have many things
rural areas don’t have – too
much concrete, smog and
smoke, humongous traffic
jams, many people in a hurry
and some of them not so nice.
In one of my forays into congested civilization if our little
party had not been following
a native we’d still be lost. If
you don’t know what lane
you want to be in two miles
before you get there, may as
well hang it up and send out a
search party.
On more than one occasion,
while passing through those
cities, I made a comment to
some of the natives that went
something like this: “How do
you get around in all this?”
The response, more or less,
from them all was something
like, “When you grow up
around it and watch it change
it’s not so hard.”
That’s obviously true, not requiring a master’s degree in
electrical this or that to understand. I think, however, that’s
true not only in navigating big
places but also in most, if not
all, walks and areas of life.
My mama, the one who told
me to sit up straight and pay
attention and play pretty and
countless other “Mom-ism’s,”
all designed to foster my good
fortune in life, used to tell me
the story about the guy who
had a fresh horse apple or
meadow muffin on the bill of
his ball cap.
He noticed it for awhile, as
did countless other folks who
pointed out to him the obvious:
“Hey, did you know you’ve
got some stuff on your cap?”
Still the fellow kept wearing
his cap with the deposit on the
bill because he liked the cap.
Eventually the smell of things
went away, he thought, and
he continued wearing the cap.
But actually what happened
was he simply got accustomed
– got “used to,” mama said –
his hat’s decoration and didn’t
notice it anymore.
“What does that prove?”
Mama would ask me.
“That he should look in the
mirror at his cap,” I offered.
“Nope,” she said. “It means
we can get used to just about
anything. So be careful what
you do and with whom you do
it.’’
I haven’t always followed that
advice but I understand it and
think it still plays. I’m pretty
sure there are some caps in my
life I need to dust off.
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