For Good

I always knew this was temporary.

Huh?

I mean, it was only a matter of time before you’d meet someone. And that’s the way it should be. They’re exactly right. It’s the way I want it, too. We all want you to be happy.

I am happy.

Well, you could be happier.

I don’t know if I like the idea of too much happiness.

Yea, well, try to keep an open mind.

Things are fine the way they are. I like you. I like hanging out with you. Why can’t I just hang out with you?

Don’t you miss your friends? And dating? And having a special person in your life? All men like that.

I see my friends.

But you know they miss you. Didn’t Jack call just the other day asking if you wanted to do something?

I’ve known him since we were kids. We hang out quite enough. He’s fine.

You need to spend more time with all the people you know, the ones you’ve known all your life. You need to meet some new people. New female people. I’ll miss you, but I’ve known that since I met you. I have to admit that I’m not quite prepared yet, but I will be. I'm fine. Everything's fine. It's been so much fun, and you’re a great guy. Now go forth and socialize. And date, dammit.

I don’t wanna.

Oh, puh-leeze. Of course you do.

Seriously. I don’t wanna.

But, now, you have to. They hate me. They’ll think I never said anything to you, that I really don’t want you to be happy, that I’m forcing you to be here, that I’m glad you feel guilty and sorry for me and have succumbed to the idea of never escaping from me. Please don’t do that to me.

You like lasagne?

Lasagne?

Lasagne. Dinner. I'm thinking we should cook lasagne.

I want to live here. I want to stay here a long, long time. I want to retire here and live out my days. Happily. I can’t do that if the people don’t like me. I want friends or at least to feel like I’m not hated. Hell, I could be shunned.

Lasagne, it is. I’ll be back with the fixins at 5:30. And a movie. It’s my turn to pick, I think, isn’t it?

I’m thinking it’s Saturday night. The best night to start. Call a friend. Go to town. Have a beer and listen to the band at Barnacles. Look around. Make some eye contact. Ask somebody out.

Yea, definitely my pick ‘cause we watched some crap last weekend I can’t even remember the name of.

I’m not going to be here at 5:30, then.

You better. I’ll have all those groceries. You don’t want me left holding the bag, do you?

Oh, good lord.

Take a nap or something. Chill out. Everything will be fine. Trust me?

Yea, but you seriously have to…

Trust me?

Yes.

And with that, he left. Leaving me alone for the afternoon to think about how I could make him leave for good.

Thank God for The Typo Eradication Advancement League (TEAL)

I feel weak, a little giddy, and damn near hopeful. To know that while I sleep or sit on my sofa baffled by (but unable to stop watching) something called High School Reunion, there is a group of people out there fixing typos and spelling errors all over this great country of ours.

What could be better?

I know there are wars and human suffering and embarrassing campaigns and disintegrating job markets, but this is what we need in America. People who give a shit about the very basics of education and do something about it. The world is now a better place.

Like I said, I’m giddy. This calls for an M&M and a blog entry. And quite possibly a T-shirt order to show solidarity and appreciation.

http://www.jeffdeck.com/teal/
http://www.jeffdeck.com/teal/blog/

(I checked this post an extra umpteen times for typos. If you find one, do let me know, and then do something about the economy. Please?)

Cynthia Morris' Creative Leaps

Leave it to Cynthia Morris of Original Impulse fame to come up with something so clever and uplifting for February.

The premise is leap year. She’s making a huge “creative leap” this year (but is saving the announcement for – get this – February 29th, the actual leap in a leap year), so she’s decided to make February a month full of leaps for her fans.

Each day, for the entire month, she’ll post a new creative leap on her blog. Today’s leap, for example, is to grab a “Creative Leap Notebook” in support of the Write it Down, Make it Happen philosophy.

I came across Cynthia’s book, Create Your Writer’s Life, way back in 2005. I entered a summer daily impulse contest and won two free coaching sessions with her. My life hasn’t been the same. If I had the money, I’d pay her to talk to me every day.

Now, I won’t post her entire month of leaps here – that’s wrong anyway - but I have added a link to the left for the month.

I haven’t leapt in years!! Hopefully, I won’t break a hip looking for my notebook.

January 31st?

What? New Year’s Day was 30 days ago? Wasn’t I supposed to accomplish something in January? I created a spreadsheet in December outlining my 2008 goals, but I haven’t even opened it yet. I’m behind. Already. Or am I?

• Attended two local writing events (which really just reinforced the amount of competition out there)
• Accepted into Butler University’s Fiction Writing Workshop for February
• Scheduled JELCC class for March
• Worked on three new projects (and not an Indian in sight!)
• Created new ICE newsletter and new CFLC Website menu
• Read
• Worked on new PSM template
• Was sick for a week and lost six pounds. Was well for two days and gained it back.

Adult Education Class

I’ll be teaching my Adult Ed class, Life as a Technical Writer, again at the J. Everett Light Career Center (JELCC) in Washington Township. It runs March 3rd – April 14th, 6:30-8:30 p.m. It will be chock full of hands-on exercises to develop professional technical documents, build professional portfolios, and update resumes. We’ll actually find and query potential customers – whether they like it or not! Peruse the catalog and sign up here: www.jelcc.com/adulted.html.

NPR for the Holidays

There are so many things I love about National Public Radio, but here's a particular favorite at www.npr.org: Each week, NPR presents leading authors of fiction and nonfiction as they read from and discuss their work. There are excerpts, podcasts, and RSS feeds to it all.

Books: http://www.npr.org/templates/topics/topic.php?topicId=1032

Book Tour: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=10448909

If you’re looking for a good cause this holiday season, don’t forget your local member station.

Another Oprah Quandary

No matter how much I don’t want to like Oprah, I do.

I’m not a regular viewer – haven’t been for years now. I think I stopped watching when the audience was taken over by giddy suburban housewives who dress up for the occasion and shake when Oprah enters the room.

But that’s exactly the reason I watch the annual Favorite Things show. My favorite thing about Oprah’s Favorite Things is the feeling I get about ME. I live for that holiday feeling of condescension I get from watching a group of silly women gush and jump and scream and cry and raise their hands to the Heavens over Oprah’s favorite panini maker.

But, each year, I’m also sucked in to all the shininess and find myself making a note about at least one of the “things”. I research and sometimes….I even buy. I hate myself for it, but I do. At least I don’t gush, though. I refuse to gush.

And then today, I stumbled upon a column written by a gal named Lisa Kogan. In my perfect world, I would write like Lisa Kogan. She says in one sentence what I need paragraphs to say. She’s witty, smart, natural, and fun. She says what I’m thinking most of the time. She writes about living her own life by her own rules and I just love that.

But, come to find out, Kogan writes for O Magazine. Damm you, Oprah Winfrey! If loving you is wrong, I guess I just can’t be right. But I’m not gushing. Or shaking. Or shopping for show outfits.

Writers' Center of Indiana website!

Less than two years ago, the Writers’ Center of Indiana sent a survey to all its members asking for feedback, suggestions, complaints, etc. From what I heard, we responded in droves with more than they probably had anticipated.

Typically, nobody expects much to happen from mail-in surveys. You just do it for the exercise and to get things off your chest. Then, you stick a stamp on it and don’t give it another thought.

Well, just when you least expected it!

The WC website has a new calendar of events and lists new clubs, new resources, new contests, and new opportunities to publish work.

The organization and appearance haven’t changed, but it’s easy to use, CURRENT, and a great site for Indy writers and fans of Indy writers. Their new notification system of readings, speakers, workshops and events is timely and full of great information.

I filled out the feedback form on the site to commend the webmaster. Now, if whoever’s in charge of The Fiction Group – I just want to know what they do – would respond to email….

I’ll save that for another survey. For now, I'm too happy about adding the website back to my Favorites list. :)

I curse you, TV Land!

I can’t stop watching I Love Lucy reruns. In fact, I can watch the same ones over and over and over. And what’s worse -- in the same day! For example, the Ricky Asks for a Raise episode came on at today at 10am, then again at around noon, then again around 5pm, then again just now. I shouldn’t know this. It’s insane. Literally. The definition of it.

I did turn the TV off today, though. I have three clients with tight deadlines right now, each of whom I’m trying to get to a happy place before NaNoWriMo starts on the 1st, so I put on some CDs and worked. I kept working after the CDs stopped, and I listened to what I think are squirrels playing on the roof, in the crawl space, and on the front porch. They’re in nut-hunting season and love our yard. Almost as much as the two neighborhood cats do.

I’m starting NaNoWriMo again with good intentions. At least I already have my outline and my head start this year. It’s also cool weather, perfect for vanilla chai tea and my laptop at Lulu’s.

If only I can tear myself away from the possibility of another Lucy episode. I wish TV Land would play The Lucy Show, too, though. That would be nice.

According to some research, the best way to stop watching television is to wean yourself from it. For example, turn on the set a half hour later each evening and turn it off a half hour earlier than normal. And do this in weekly increments to prevent withdrawal symptoms. Or give yourself an allotment of TV hours each week and decrease that number every two weeks.

Common withdrawal symptoms are insomnia, emotional volatility, anxiety, depression, irritability, loss of appetite. I already have most of these, with the perimenopause and all, but I look forward to the loss of appetite.

Who am I kidding? Another Andy Griffith episode just came on.

“Never think you’ve seen the last of anything.”

It’s that time of year. Fall, yes, my favorite. I also enjoy the beginning of the end of another year when I stop to think about the last months’ accomplishments and shortcomings and the goals for the next year. I even get a kick out of repeatedly figuring out where the heck my Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations are.

But I’m happiest because it’s time again for the Welty Symposium at the Mississippi University for Women. And, this year, I’m going!!!

The first time I attended, in 2001, I cried. I can’t explain why I cried – yes, I can – I was overwhelmed by the sensations of Southern academia, literature, authors and the ghost of Ms. Welty in an intimate and appropriately dimly-lit auditorium. I remember my seat; I remember the faces around me waiting for a story or two. I remember the huge, proud and protective trees outside the beautiful ceiling-to-floor window next to me. I breathed too deeply and quietly cried. It felt like home, like Love.

But that was my first and only visit because we moved to Indy the next year, and I haven’t been able to go back for this or that reason.

This year’s line-up is too good to pass up. Plus, I’ll get to drive through Kentucky to see the Fall leaves (something I’ve sworn to do since living in Indiana) and stop for a dinner with Sheila and an afternoon with Miss Hazel.

Home. Love. Mississippi? :-o

“Long before I wrote stories, I listened for stories. Listening for them is something more acute than listening to them. When their elders sit and begin, children are just waiting and hoping for one to come out, like a mouse from its hole."

Anna at Borders

With all the griping and whining I’ve done about the living situation lately, I think years from now what I’ll remember most is what Miss Hazel said to me on the phone after I had filled her in, in probably way too much detail.

“You know what’s funny about things like this? It’s that none of it ever matters ten years later.”

Point. Set. Match. Miss Hazel. As usual.

My horoscope says August will be full of fluctuations. It couldn’t be more accurate so far, because this is just the 5th and I’ve already had ridiculous ups and downs. Just Thursday, I had a great conversation with an interesting, inspiring woman at work and a nice lunch with another tech writer (even though this one asks me sometimes if I need some work to do and means it), then got home to a humunGus IRS bill from 2005 that I’ll have to spend even more time and money investigating and fixing.

The highlight of the week happened on a lunchtime trip to the Borders in downtown Indy when I asked a girl named Anna to point me in the direction of the recent release of The Portable Writer's Conference.

She walked to the section where it should have been with me and asked, “What do you write?”

I hung my head and stammered: “Oh, nothing. Nothing, really. I don’t have anything published or anything. I just play around with things.”

“I think that’s so cool.”
“Writing is the hardest part.”
“Writers are my rock stars.”
“Like what types of things are you working on?”
“What’s your genre?”

She kept pressing me. And thank God!! I left the store feeling like a real writer, and, since I don't believe in chance encounters and coincidences, I'm going to go back to the store when the book I ordered arrives and thank her some more.

Writers' Conference, on second or five hundredth thought

After months of carrying the brochure around and re-reading the schedules, I have decided not to pursue this year’s Midwest Writers’ Conference at Ball State. I’ve thought about going since 2003, but I have yet to sign on the dotted line.

And I think I’ve finally figured out why: it’s just not for me.

The three-day session with hotel would cost about $600. There are scads of workshops to choose from, but none really jumped out at me. There is only one author I’ve heard of and he’s not exactly my niche. The only manuscript evaluator with whom I felt an online connection was Heather Sellers and she’s only reviewing five manuscripts. But the real reason behind my decision is that I have to admit my own weaknesses. I’m not a networker, I’m not an initiator, I’m not a seller - especially if I’m flying solo – and I know that I’m not ready to fight 200 people for a five-minute session with an agent or publisher. I don’t know that I ever would be.

Though, I imagine someday, under different circumstances, this conference might be a treat to attend, I think I would be better served right now by more of a retreat environment, a community college class, a couple of critique/editing/validation partners who might constantly remind me to ignore the gremlins, as Cynthia Morris would say. I thrive in supportive, non-competitive environments.

I’ll never, ever, ever forget my first writers’ conference in 2001. It was the Welty Symposium at the Mississippi University for Women in Columbus, MS, where attendees listened to readings from authors and participated in a panel discussion about these writers’ lives and experiences. So it wasn’t a conference at all, really.

Regardless, it was a spiritual awakening for me. This sounds strange even to write, but I felt like I became my God for a moment – I left my body and was looking down at myself as though I were my own child. I smiled at me and welcomed myself home. Floods of tears (hidden as well as could be expected in an auditorium) and waves of contentment.

I was surrounded by history and academia and like women and Southern writers, past and present. Mississippi is the best place in the world to connect with spirits and ghosts and I was moved and changed by the experience.

Maybe the MWW has intercepted a call home. It might be time to go sit with Ms. Welty again. Take a week or so to listen to her and reconnect with the Spirit she stirs in me. Then, maybe she'll give me some pointers on our next steps.

Nothin'

Leave it to Hope Clark to put it all in a nutshell. Her latest formula:
For every hour you email, read, network and conference, you owe your writing a like hour.

One of my favorite characters ever written is Dwight in Elinor Lipman’s Then She Found Me. I just read that Colin Firth is going to play Dwight’s part in the movie written by Helen Hunt due out later this year. I could not be happier! Understated, peaceful, content confidence. I can’t wait for this one! I missed Dwight the minute I closed the book and I still miss him. His name in the movie is Frank. I’ll have to get used to that.

Tomorrow, most folks go back to work. I'll go to Lulu’s Electric Café. I’m going with my laptop and my notebook and I’m going to finish a User’s Guide that’s due June 1st. I'm behind, but with a little focus, I think I can get it done tomorrow and make a dent in a Tutorial due the same day. It's my own fault. I'm a practicing procrastinator.

A Room of Her Own Foundation Application Story Request

Tell us Your Application Story!

We hope that applying for The Gift Of Freedom Award was a beneficial process for every applicant.

We'd like to hear your application story: both the toil and the triumph. What did you struggle with the most? Did you have any moments of clarity during the application about your work or your writing goals? Did you join other women writers to support each other in the process?

Pleas e share your experience with us by writing us at info@aroomofherownfoundation.org.

Hello!

I would love to share my application story: I submitted an application to the AROHO Foundation Gift of Freedom Award this year and loved it!

It was a catalyst for me to determine my priorities. It coincided with the start of a new year when I always try to focus on defining new goals and plans and dragging the unfinished ones over from the prior year.

The process also made me feel like a writer. It connected me to my Spirit and what I believe to be my purpose. It boosted my confidence enough to cause me to enroll and now participate in a creative writing class that I am enjoying immensely. It made me feel like I was in good company and part of a community that shared similar outlooks, challenges, and goals, even though I did work alone. I used the site several times for information, help, and guidance. I used email to ask a couple of questions and was answered quickly and efficiently.

I struggled most with the essay about what my writing means to me. I didn’t get to my answer until I had written the essay- similar to the way novelists are led by their characters. It became so personal and comforting when I realized that my writing is my family. It was a moment of clarity, as you mention in the email, and, again, connection, so, the struggle was insignificant compared to the light.

I would recommend the process to any potential applicant, even if does mean more competition! I am a writer, but I am also a reader, so I have nothing but happiness and respect for the author who wins.

Thank you for the opportunity!

Karen Rutherford
Indianapolis, Indiana

Leads, Dialogue, and Character Biographies

I am three weeks into a six-week-long creative writing class and I love it! I’ve never taken a formal creative writing class before due to fear. I heard about interaction and sharing and constructive criticism, but I really can’t recommend the experience more. The instructor is full of exercises and prompts and helpful hints. She’s relaxed and kind and supportive, which has suddenly given me the courage to share, to receive good and bad feedback, to think, and to create.

I now have the beginning to my book, and I think it’s pretty good. I have positive, and what felt like genuine, feedback from a classmate with whom I had to trade papers. I don’t have feedback from the instructor yet, and won’t until next Wednesday night. Knowing me, I’ll stupidly wait until next week’s approval or disapproval to continue working. I’m absurdly meticulous like that. It comes from being a tech writer by day, I guess.

But I will keep up with my bits and pieces. It’s how I have written in the past and seems to help my blank-page-a-phobia. I write scenes or events when they literally pop into my head (I don’t seem to be able to plan the impulses), and then I hope that they will eventually all fit together in an organized, end result of a novel.

This class has already helped me feel better about my process, my challenges, my fears, and, most importantly, my actual writing. It has brought cohesion to a particular story in my head through instruction about creating leads, developing character biographies, and writing dialogue. I have learned to become an observer of my own story.

I can’t wait to find out what happens next – to me and to the people in my head!

A Room of Her Own Foundation Grant

I wonder how many grant applications the A Room of Her Own Foundation (AROHO) receives each year for its Gift of Freedom Award. I’ve googled and googled and can’t find any numbers. But I figure if I’m submitting, there must be bazillions.

That screamed negativity, which I’m trying to shake this year. So regardless of the result, I have loved the process. It has been a great exercise, organizing me and forcing me to publicly declare priorities. It has helped me realize what I need to do and why and reminded me who I am.

The Foundation is dedicated to helping women artists achieve the privacy and financial support necessary to pursue their art. As Virginia Woolf recognized in the 1920s, “a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write.” It is a unique and generous cause and I am happy to know about it. I would sincerely be excited for any winner who will have an opportunity that, more than likely, would have been impossible otherwise. And the rest of us get a new author!

That was generous of me, I think. Because I really wanna win bad.

Even the Bad Writers

Ahhhh, The Office. I cried laughing so hard at last night’s show when Michael was playing an iTunes snippet of another pitiful James Blunt song over and over again. When Jim told him he should just buy the song, he said he didn’t want to spend all that money. And when he put a pen mark on the waitress’ arm! And Ryan having a laundry list of excuses in his PDA. Just hilarious.

I also TiVo the Craig Ferguson Show every night and watch his monologue every morning before work. Why? I’ve had a crush on him for years, that’s why. Jewel was on the show last night/this morning and performed her new song about her life in Stephenville, Texas. She’s such a unique and gifted songwriter.

I am such a fan of great writing! And so envious of great writers. To be that creative. And that unique. And to follow what just has to be a calling. I don’t know how they stand themselves. I’d be celebrating myself constantly.

But this appreciation makes me especially sensitive to bad writing, too. Like most of the articles I’ve ever read in the Ladies Home Journal magazine. And those oh so many books that say in 500 pages what could and should be said in 10. 

So while bad writing is a chore, I’m glad for it because it makes me appreciate and recognize good writing even more. And, besides, bad writers need love, too. I know.

5-HTP and 13,000 words

5-HTP is an amino acid that regulates the brain’s serotonin levels. According to Wikipedia, “ serotonin is believed to play an important role in the regulation of body temperature, mood, sleep, emesis (vomiting), sexuality and appetite”. Low serotonin levels have been linked to depression.

My friend in North Carolina is a wealth of information on holistic medicine and, after hearing one too many whiny voice mails from me, recommended I try the 5-HTP. She even included the necessary dosage through muscle testing.

She said I should notice a difference in two to three weeks, but I noticed a difference in only two days. It’s been a godsend for me. Yesterday, I helped an elderly lady at the grocery store. Two people, on two separate occasions while running errands, asked me if I needed help finding something (and in a helpful, sincere way, not in the annoying, can I help you...can I help you now....how 'bout now way). I had a long and happy conversation about Tennessee with a landscaper doing work on my yard. I exchanged a laugh about something I can’t remember now with a guy at a drive-thru. Last night, I did the laundry, ironed, vacuumed, swept and noticed I had been singing to myself throughout the entire process. And then I went to a play at my son’s school by myself and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. Today hasn’t been as memorable, but no matter how hard I try (it’s foreign to my nature not to try), I can’t hold on to a negative thought.

I also haven’t felt this purposeful in what feels like ages. Thus, my Nanowrimo update: 13,152 words as of today. I should be at 28,333 for the month to finish successfully, but that’s their definition of success, not mine. I feel successful already and that’s worth the 15,000 words I lack.

NaNoWriMo and Me

Today is the beginning of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month – www.nanowrimo.org ). Starting at 12:01am this morning, participants have one month to write 50,000 words of their novels. The prize is the accomplishment. The non-profit’s site includes a lot of support, a global and smaller regional community, and a whole bunch of forums to aid with the inevitable procrastination process.

As of 9:48am (I successfully put it off for almost 10 hours), I am an official participant in the annual frenzy. I pushed the button because I’ve tried but can’t come up with any more excuses. All the stars are aligned and I am surrounded.

• I have no freelance work due in November.
• I’m on an easy project at work (meaning it doesn’t require any extra hours and actually allows for some daily drifting).
• I also know that this project lasts at least through December, so I feel no pressure to market in November.
• I now firmly believe that one more cubicle will kill me.
• My new furniture fiascos are over and my son is in charge of painting the living room. My remaining chores don’t add up to one complete excuse.
• I have the idea, the title, the characters, and the plot in my head screaming to escape. I need to put us all out of our misery.
• All the people I know are pretty busy with their daily lives and thoughts of and pre-plans for the upcoming holidays. It’s just perfect timing.
• I got an email from God and Writer’s Digest last night reminding me of the event.

The email wasn’t snippy, but I sensed that He was drilling his fingers, tapping his toes, rolling his eyes, clearing his throat, and essentially saying:

“Uhhh, Karen Dear? (He still loves me after all.) What would you have Me do? Move the pencil in your hand? Force your fingers to hit the right keys? I have cleared your schedule, provided you with the means to pay your bills, sent you a fire-lighting-to-ass email reminder, and aligned a support system. Geez. I think Judge Judy will be fine if you miss her today. Do you really want me to take your cable away, too?”

“Ok, God, I get it. Thank you. I know, I know. Thank you. I am writing. Thank you. I am. Thank you.”

It’s recommended that I put an icon on my website to communicate that “1) I am a serious writer now, and, 2) As a serious writer, I will not have time for household chores until December.”

So here it is. Scary looking, isn't it?

Now what do I do? Oh, right. Write.

Now? But....I'm hungry and must go get lunch.

I think I hear white noise.

We Just Make the Signs, Ma'am

We honor famous people by naming roads after them. It is meant to be a significant gesture of good will. But is it an honor? If we don’t even know who they are, are they truly being honored? If you’re a television star or a musician, we’ll remember you forever, with or without a road sign. But Americans have extremely short attention spans about anything remotely historical or educational.

For example, how can we be expected to know after whom Austin Peay Highway, Walter K. Singleton Parkway, Paul Barret Parkway, WB Fowler Expressway, or Bill Morris Parkway was named ? Unless you lived while they were in the news, were a long-time resident of the area, knew someone related to them, or actually took the time to ask or research, you’d never know. I would never take the time to investigate these faceless names on the signs unless I’d been given this assignment.

Only being a resident of Desoto County for three years, I had no idea who to call to find out about the memorial roadways in Memphis. The Tennessee Department of Transportation referred me to the City Commission who referred me to the County Commission who referred me back to the City Commission who then referred me to the Memphis/Shelby County Department of Transportation who referred me to the Public Works Department. Surprisingly, these people had more information than the others. After being transferred six times, a man on the other end of the phone informed me, “Oh, we wouldn’t know anything about that. We just make the signs, ma’am.” I had officially learned something.

When researching anything and all else fails, I always end up at the libraries and the city archives. And the Memphis archivists couldn’t have been more helpful. It was so unusual and refreshing, I even called back twice just to thank them for their time. Essentially, they referred me to archives of the local newspaper. Again, I had learned something.

Austin Peay Highway was named for Austin Peay IV, known as “The Maker of Modern Tennessee”. Peay served an unprecedented three terms as Governor of Tennessee from 1923 until his death in office in 1927. He was specifically known for initiating and passing an administrative reorganization bill which eliminated sixty-four government bureaus and re-grouped them into eight departments, lowering the state deficit by millions of dollars, and also for implementing a tobacco tax which was spent on highways and education. He served during the difficult controversy of the 1925 Scopes Evolution Trials in Dayton, Tennessee. He was honored for his unselfish, “for the people” style of government with a road, a big road, and a sign, a big sign. And a university in Clarksville, Tennessee.

Sergeant Walter K. Singleton, United States Marine, was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor and the Purple Heart for heroism in the Vietnam War. His platoon was attacked by intense enemy fire. He advanced, shooting at the enemy and moving injured men from harm’s way, and eventually disorganized their operation. He was mortally wounded, yet saved many of his comrade’s lives. He is the only person in Shelby County ever to receive the Medal of Honor. He has an annual run, a road, and a sign. But better yet, he is honored on the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial Wall

Paul Barret was a well-known businessman, banker, and political leader in Barretville, a town in northern Shelby County established by his family in the 1840’s. Barret died in 1999, leaving assets valued at about $75 million and funding trusts for various libraries and buildings scattered around Memphis. He now has a library at Rhodes College named after his money, I mean, him. He was also honored with a road and a sign.

William Bingham Fowler was Memphis’ city engineer from 1927 to 1957. During his career, he worked with the Department of Public Works, designed the Memphis Zoo, worked on the sewer systems, and many other projects throughout the city. His sign is on the southern extension of I-240 circling the town.

William N. Morris was Shelby County sheriff for six years and mayor for sixteen years. Morris was elected in 1978, 1982, 1986, and 1990. Mr. Morris proves that you don’t have to die to get a road and a sign. After he dies, I would imagine more information will be available about his contributions. Only then will we honor him appropriately.

I think the signs are certainly honors to these great contributors to Memphis and Tennessee. We just don’t take the time to think about or even thank the people who came before us for their many accomplishments that have made our lives better or easier. We may ask our passengers while driving down the road, “Do you know who Austin Peay is?” But more than likely they won’t know who he was either. We shrug and drive on, checking our voice mails, emails, palm pilots, or pagers. Or better yet, we pick up our cell phones to chat with our friends so we don’t waste the thirty-minute drive home.

If you ever find an extra minute and would like further information about the roads of the Memphis honorable, a columnist for the Commercial Appeal, Ann Meeks, has written several articles on the subject since 1990. You can meander through the archives at www.gomemphis.com and purchase, for $2.95, as they say, “the full story”.

But in the meantime, slow down. Smell the roses. And take a minute to really read the signs.

---Karen Rutherford

Bibliography:

1. http://politicalgraveyard.com/index.html
2. http://newgomemphis.com/newgo/core/archives.htm
3. http://hqinet001.hqmc.usmc.mil/HD/Historical/MOH/Vietnam_War_1965-1973/Singleton_WK.htm
4. http://www.mishalov.com/Singleton.html
5. http://www.virtualwall.org/ds/SingletonWK01a.htm