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 hope I will not be one of the perpetual dissenters on the council, if elected,” Dr. Gordon Rodgers Jr. said in August 1969, “but I want to be a symbol that will enable the Black people of Anniston to identify with the city government." 

A gaggle of conspirators — both anonymous and blatantly public — drowned this small-town district race in character assassinations, online bullying and spurious advertising,

Elections are inherently combative, even in peaceful Jacksonville and ever-expanding Oxford and Calhoun County’s pocket-sized towns, but Anniston’s elections taste different, like unsweet tea or Mapco coffee.

In its 187 years our county has had two names, Benton and Calhoun, and both stink. But it didn’t have to be this way.

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. 

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.

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.

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. 

Some Jacksonville residents have organized to have the Confederate monument at the center of the city's Public Square removed. One of them asked the City Council recently: “Does this monument in 2020 represent the diversity, the neighborliness and the kindness of Jacksonville?”

If you don’t want to wear a face mask in public, don’t wear a face mask in public. But don’t complain if there’s no college football this fall. 

How’s this for timing? A few years ago Alexis Wise was an English teacher in Etowah County. Last year she was Anniston High School’s assistant principal. Now she’s in charge there. School starts in less than a month. And there’s a pandemic. Hope she’s settled in.

Calhoun County has been spared thus far from the pandemic’s teeth. Be thankful, but don’t be fooled. Our number of positive cases has nearly doubled since July 1. 

Here's something to think about regarding Calhoun County's Confederate monuments: When Kenneth Bodiford decided to excise “Dixie” from the Marching Southerners’ repertoire, he wasn’t run out of town. There was no revolt, no violent protest, no administrative edict.

ICYMI -- The Star's Phillip Tutor writes: As America mulls the fate of Confederate monuments — like the one in Anniston — never forget that Calhoun County’s largest city has always been a focal point of the county’s racial tensions.