by Freida Marie Crump Greetings from Poosey. I can’t think of the Fourth of July without remembering him. Hoolie McBride was the town carpenter, mechanic, roof fixer, dog tamer, and sometimes Bingo caller at our annual Burgoo. He was a scruffy little fellow who...
by Freida Marie Crump Greetings from Poosey. I can remember as a youngster running in to get the mail and hearing the peep-peep of baby chickens in the back room. An indulgent postmaster would let me go back to look at the chicks peeking their little beaks out of the...
by Freida Marie Crump Greetings from Poosey. Now and again I’ll read something that just jumps off the page and smacks me in the heart. Such was the case as I was digesting a new book by New York Times writer David Brooks. He titled the work “The Road to...
by Freida Marie Crump Greetings from Poosey. As summer creeps up on us, we find more and more harried travelers edging their way toward the airports of our nation. In case you’ve not flown lately, things have not gotten a bit more pleasant. It astounds me that a...
by Freida Marie Crump Greetings from Poosey. “So. . .George Bush. Is he an evil man?” That’s the first question the young Russian student asked me when we sat down for coffee one night in a Moscow coffee house. He was referring to George the First and the poor kid had...
