Straight From The Hart

  Years ago, there was a movie called “A River Runs Through It” based on a novel by Norman Maclean. I didn’t see the movie, but the title has been running through my head for several days now. The Rio Grande is just one of hundreds of rivers that runs through this great North American continent. More than 60,000 illegal immigrants have crossed the Mexican border in the past nine months, many of them using the Rio Grande as their point of entrance. Louie Gohmert, a Texas Congressman describes his recent trip to the river during the pre-dawn hours. He saw pregnant women and those with nursing infants and small children, and many teenagers, 72 people in all that morning and a third of them were children unaccompanied by adults. Border agents pulled on blue latex gloves when they saw them arriving. One told the Congressman that many of them have scabies, lice and even more serious infectious diseases that probably won’t be noticed until after they have traveled with others on buses an

  Last week I wrote about the importance of keeping a journal. I want to follow up on that today with the story of one of my favorite historical characters who took voluminous notes every day in his work and travels, thus preserving the history of some important days in our nation. His name was Jacob. The year was 1873 and he had been summoned by President Grant to Washington, D.C. to remeasure the grand avenues in the nation’s capitol, the President having been told by the District Investigation Committee that the streets surrounding the Capitol building had not been laid out well and needed to be redone by a professional engineer. Jacob spent three weeks there and was ready to give his report to General Babcock who was in charge of the street project. He writes in his journal that the rain that day had turned to snow by the time he left his hotel and walked down Pennsylvania Avenue where he turned into one of the walks that led to the Executive Mansion. He wrote about the White Ho

  A PATHWAY TO PEACE When families are hurting and sometimes temper flares When blood ties are unravelling, , you wonder just who cares When those who should be closest no longer want to share Dear Lord, please make a pathway to peace. When nations rise against nations, and folks are thinking war When diplomats are weary, nothing seems to work anymore When black and white are fighting, the rich against the poor Dear Lord, please make a pathway to peace. When you lay in a manger the night the angels sang Peace among men they said, the courts of heaven rang When you saw in the future the cross from which you’d hang You died to make a pathway of peace. Peace to all men and nations, it is our prayer today Peace in the midst of trial, for this O Lord we pray From our hearts remove all malice, please take our hate away And use our lives to create a pathway of peace. © Joan Rowden Hart July 2017

  Chickens And Ducks And Turkeys, Oh My! That is the major part of the business conducted at Cackle Hatchery on West Commercial every day. Throw in some geese and lots of eggs from all these animals, plus educational materials about them, and even medication for sick chicks, and you have a growing (no pun intended) and sometimes noisy 24 hour business 7 days a week. You can even feather your own nest with home décor from the in-house store on the premises, or buy unique gifts for your friends who like to collect and decorate with fowl items and themes. Cackle Hatchery (don’t you just love that name?) recently celebrated its 75th year in business. The very backbone of small-town America is its family-owned businesses, and Cackle Hatchery epitomizes all the good things about the “mom and pop” operations which dot America’s landscapes, especially in the Midwest, as well as the traditional values and work ethic instilled in them. Clifford and Lena Smith started the business in 1936. I