Grateful for helping vets
I would like to thank all of the incredible people who came out to support our second annual Murphy Music & Brews.
We are so grateful for all of the volunteers who made the event so special.
The Shepherd’s Men are doing such great work and, thanks to all of you, they will be able to help more veterans. It will take some time before we know the final amount raised, but I am sure we were able to top last year.
Thanks again, Murphy, for all of your support and donations. Can’t wait to do it again next spring.
Sarah Wright, Murphy
God loves all our neighbors
Dear neighbors,
I began writing this letter on Good Friday, remembering Jesus, who said of the men who nailed him to the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
Many of us were taught as children to follow Jesus’ example of loving kindness but I wonder how many of us feel that spirit in our neighborhoods, in our country today?
Instead, under the leadership of a former president, we hear immigrants (those of color only) called “rapists,” “animals” and “thugs.” Donald Trump promises to be “your retribution.” Retribution for what?
How has the saving grace of Jesus Christ’s life of humble service, healing and compassion turned into this “American carnage” of hate and violence for some of our neighbors?
I hope there are many more of us in this community brave enough to speak up against hate speech, brave enough to be kind, brave enough to remember we are all Americans under God.
Joan Tidwell, Murphy
‘When the heart sings’
This is the 2024 Cherokee-Clay County Senior Games SilverArts Bronze Medal Essay winner.
Something happens when you’re old. It has nothing to do with your bones, or your brain, or your heart … at least not in a physical sense. The sought-after reason for the newly-discovered condition only requires prayerful self-examination rather than a doctor appointment.
Over time, and without realizing what has mysteriously occurred, you’re suddenly aware of feeling the pain, hopelessness, sadness or fear another is experiencing. Unseen, their suffering materializes deep in your heart, often accompanied by warm, salty, visible tears flowing down your cheeks. With no apparent warning, this empathy becomes a meaningful, common occurrence.
Not understanding the reason, the now-welcome phenomenon springing forth from within is easily embraced. While questioning such heartfelt involvement with another mortal, sometimes a stranger, it’s instinctively known that the strong emotion is very right.
My personal research revealed the “why.” This endearing core connection to someone is, simply, soul-to-soul compassion. God’s love in action.
We all breathe. We all bleed. Eventually, we all die. Until that happens, humanity binds us together. Neither nationality, nor race, nor skin color can separate us. We are one.
So, when life’s ever-changing, and sometimes surprising, rhythm tugs at your heartstrings and produces a melody with notes in a new arrangement, you know you’re alive.
It’s good to be alive. Especially when you’re old.
Tamara Phillips, Murphy
Good and kind people are here
I would like to thank all that were at the scene of my accident on the bypass on April 8. These people were so kind and concerned to help.
Officer Southard, all of the Emergency Medical Technicians, tow drivers and two sisters from car No. 3, Kathy and Terri, who brought me home, also were men who stopped the horn.
A heartfelt “thanks” to all – and if I missed anyone, to you, too.
I believe there are many more by far of kind and helpful people than the opposite – especially in Murphy.
Robert Barber, Murphy
Two dogs, two hogs
We keep Ben and Darcy’s big brown dog, Fern, here, a lot, in our fenced-in backyard. As the days warm, on late afternoons, the backyard groundhog parent and child return from their trip down the Hiwassee River, scurrying up the lane like homecoming commuters.
Fern and Ginger watch, with brief frantic running and ritualized howling, from their yard, as the hogs settle, one under each upper shed.
Just before dark, a squirrel flattens out his body like a wash rag and squeezes under the corrugated roof edges, into the bigger shed.
When splitting wood, you must keep your end of the handle down, to keep the dangerous end away from your feet. Longer maul handles also help.
For many months, we’ve walked Ginger in Murphy’s Konehete Veterans Park, past this big branch fallen down over the Valley River bank. I finally asked for permission to cut it up; and it is the perfect wood: one chunk will burn by itself all night, like coal. The white oak’s bark looks like it’s jumping off the tree.
Best of times, worst of
times. These are dappled twilight years: hour by hour our conditions and feelings run the gamut. Whatever good comes out of any moment is all the better, collecting the light and dark mixed perfections. Catch as catch can.
Dogs think the big thoughts.
Harry Holdorf, Brasstown