It took a City of Anniston work crew about 10 minutes Sunday night to excise a Confederate obelisk that had stood on Quintard Avenue for 115 years. In a quirky feat of engineering, nothing bound together the monument’s three main sections: no rebar, no bolts, no dowels. Not even duct tape or… Read the full story
Teddy Grogan is one of those University of Alabama football fans you hear about but rarely meet. His bonafides jingle like Army medals: a Crimson Tide fan since JFK, a 1973 graduate of the university, a longtime Tide Pride member, a season-ticket holder. He hasn’t missed an Alabama-Tennessee…
Jacksonville means the world to Sandra Sudduth, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t love her back. Her father was the city’s first Black elected official. She’s served with distinction on the City Council for three decades. She’s in her fourth year as its president, a calming presence oth…
The sun would rise and light would peek through the windowpanes and a squall of blonde hair and attitude would christen the day with all the grace of a bullhorn. Resistance was futile.
I have been working from home for almost eight months now, and my entire perspective has shifted. For instance, office politics now consist of me and my husband jockeying for space at the dining table that we are both using as our home workspace. I am happy to report that I am currently winn…
With students and faculty gone during the summer, a school office can be a lonely place to work. To be honest, for the same reason, with no interruptions, it can also be a productive place to work.
Way up in Calhoun County’s northeastern hills, hard against the western edges of the Wolf and August Mine mountain ridges, is a pinprick of a place called Philadelphia. Its heartbeat, Philadelphia Baptist Church, has dispensed sermons since 1888. Along the drive there from Piedmont is a visu…
When my daughter, Lindsay, finished high school, a family friend sent her an unusual graduation gift: socks. Turns out, the gift represented a private joke between the two.
The pandemic’s persistence won’t allow unrestrained optimism, so let’s assume this basic premise: Students at Calhoun County’s schools are headed back to class — thousands of them — and some will get sick.
Last week marked 75 years since the bombing of Hiroshima. I hate to admit that I actually remember the moment when I heard President Truman announce the astonishing event on a radio broadcast. I was 2 months short of 5 years old.
For the past 21 years, I have mostly managed to avoid work meetings. Every now and then I would show up for staff training or sit in on a brainstorming session, but meetings never took up much of my work day.
There’s lots of buzz in the local air about that movie coming to Netflix next month — the one that was filmed in places around Anniston and Jacksonville. “The Devil All the Time” is the title of it, adapted from a novel of the same name by Donald Ray Pollock.
One hot Atlanta afternoon a chance glimpse of an older welder in his 50s spurred the man who last month became chief of the Anniston Police Department to follow his heart.
When that 3-2 voting trend falters it’s impossible to ignore, if for no other reason than we’ve been trained to expect the usual hubris and silliness.
In last week’s Religion Roundtable in the Star’s Faith section, Rev. Laura Hutchinson of Anniston’s First Christian Church shared her belief that the current change we’re experiencing in our lives “is an accidental gift from an otherwise terrible event.”
A look at the trepidations Alabama parents and Alabama teachers and Alabama school administrators have over enclosing young people in classrooms amid an airborne viral pandemic.
Worldwide demand for remdesivir — an antiviral drug that can reduce the length of hospital stays for the sickest COVID-19 patients by about 30 percent — has stressed the supply chain and worried doctors that there isn't enough to go around.
What those lawmakers didn’t anticipate was that the law’s loopholes and the attorney general’s office would essentially make it a heavy nuisance instead of an ironclad deterrent.