An old and well-worn cliché has it that watching a legislative body in action is like watching sausage being made.
A couple years ago, The New York Times ran a delightful article in which it talked to a group of people who take considerable umbrage at that comparison.
They weren’t legislators. They were sausage-makers.
It’s time to talk about the great work of some colleagues – and about one who will be hanging up his press pass this week.
North Carolina’s budget woes have come to this: We’re closing the James K. Polk Birthplace historic site.
Durham has always enjoyed robust civic engagement. Tenacity and inventiveness are admired and dissected much like Final Four basketball performance.
I glanced absent-mindedly, as a meeting slogged on, at the brown 10x13-inch envelope in front me.
“Interdepartment Delivery” it said – with 50 rows of address lines covering both sides. A fixture of every newspaper where I’ve worked and I presume of countless other businesses, the envelopes move papers, documents and the like from person to person, office to office.
As time wound down in Duke University’s victory over Virginia Tech Tuesday night, the three Blue Devil seniors exited the game, one by one, to resounding ovations from the Cameron Indoor Stadium faithful.
Careful readers may have noticed a new name on our “masthead” – the box at the top of the editorial page with the newspaper’s name and that of the publisher, editor and news editor.
The gentlemen sitting next to me at a luncheon last week had a familiar story.
A native of North Dakota, he’d moved to the Triangle a decade ago from Detroit. Unfamiliar with the area, he’d initially settled in Morrisville. But within a couple of years, he and his spouse were looking at houses in Durham because they liked the city’s vibrancy – then, just beginning to hit the stride we’ve become so familiar with in the past few years.
What an unfortunate study in contrasts these past weeks have been for Duke University and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
More than 60 years have passed since a group of Durham lawyers won a court case that was an early landmark in the long struggle for civil rights and equality for African-Americans.
In his inaugural address Governor Pat McCrory spoke of looking out toward Main Street, with government at our back and unlimited opportunity ahead.
I should deny it, but I was, I confess, grumpy.
This year drawing to a close Monday has been an eventful one for me, starting out as a historic preservationist and then transitioning back to the editor’s chair here at The Herald-Sun.
The oldest negatives in The Herald-Sun’s files date to October 1945, and they were taken by Charles Cooper.
Perhaps I spend too much time thinking about downtown.