When we decided to visit the few remaining members of Tink's family who live in Connecticut and New York, we chose to drive.
It was about 1 a.m. when our alarm system woke me up with the beeping sound that it makes when one of the exterior doors is opened. The beep was coming from the front door.
When he asked, I answered. Then I laughed.
As the years of Mama's life grew long into the shadows of age, she managed to squeeze every bit of good out of growing old.
The despair in their eyes haunts me still. The dullness of emotion and deadness of spirit shall remain forever embedded in my memory.
It happened, I suppose, when I was in the fourth grade. That is my first strong recollection of the unfairness of life.
Over the course of many years, I have spent a lot of time in hospital waiting rooms, hoping for good news and dreading the bad at the same time.
As the old year spits and sputters to an end and the new one waits in the wings, straining with enthusiasm to burst forth with fresh hope, I see things differently than I have in past years when I wrote this New Year's column.
So it was several years ago, I was hired to speak on a few occasions for riverboat cruises on the Mississippi.
When I was a young sports writer, just beginning an education on the world of sports and the men who made the majors great, I was fascinated with NFL quarterback Kenneth Michael "Ken" Stabler.
Editor's note: Penning this week's column is Ronda Rich's husband, John "Tink" Tinker
It didn't surprise me it was him. Although such had never crossed my mind, it was, of course, just the kind of thing he would do.
An email arrived in the middle of the night in August. It said my precious friend Randy Parks, one of the dearest friends of my life, was back in the hospital with congestive heart failure.
The honorable Zell Miller of Young Harris, Ga., was raised by a remarkable mountain woman.
The other day I had something on my mind, a situation we just encountered with someone we had sought to help.
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We were cleaning the dishes from Sunday dinner when Rodney called me into the living room where he was watching TV.
As best I can recall - and I've been thinking hard about this - I have only written one fan letter in my life.
Many years ago, out of nostalgia mostly, I ordered a dipper from a local hardware store.
When I was approaching 7 years old and about to wrap up the first grade, I reigned as the No. 1 reader of books as ...
In the months before we married, I showed Tink the Southern mountains of my raising.
It was time for spring cleaning around the Rondarosa, which seems to always start with a ton of limbs, twigs and branches that have fallen ...
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