Goodbye Dr. Shell

When I first learned of Dr. Eddy Shell’s untimely death, my heart skipped a beat. I call it “untimely” because Dr. Shell has always been a fighter and a winner. This bout with cancer was, in his way of looking at things, another challenge in life.

Many have told of Dr. Shell’s influence on them in the classroom or as a colleague. While I never sat in one of his classes, Dr. Shell taught me much about life and Bossier Parish. During one of my first-ever police jury meetings as publisher of the Bossier Press-Tribune, Dr. Shell made a point to not only greet me, but to make sure I had the same documents the other police jurors were viewing when considering a piece of legislation. Many times, he would get up from his seat in the middle of the jury meeting and bring me his own copy. It was a consideration I never forgot, nor took lightly.

Over the past nine years, Dr. Shell and I have had a great friendship established and sustained by a common thread: God, Country and Community.

He would be quick to call me on the phone, or send me an email about some subject that he felt needed or deserved my attention. He was always supportive of the newspaper, and my role as its publisher.

Within the past two months, while Dr. Shell was in the midst of his bout with cancer, he took time out to give me a phone call with a suggestion for the paper.

“Hello David. Eddy Shell here,” the voice on the other end of the phone said.

After cordial agreements and talk about how he was progressing, Dr. Shell got to his point.

“I really like the thing at the bottom of your editorial page with all the state officials on it,” he said.

“Thank you. It means a lot coming from you,” I said.

“I was wondering. Would it be prudent to perhaps have other public servants on there too?”

“You mean the Police Jury, City Council? Those types?”

“Exactly. You wouldn’t have room to run them all at the same time, but you could rotate them. I think people might want to know who represents them and how to get in touch with them.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll get to work on it.”

Since then, I have made some attempts to get the photos of the various members of public bodies. Soon, we will have the Police Jury, City Council and School Board on the editorial page.
The exchange between Dr. Shell and I was typical of the kind of man he was – always looking for ways to improve things, and people. It was his gift and our blessing.

Bossier Parish has lost a valuable member of its community. However, we are all better people and live in a better place because he was here. For that, I thank you, Dr. Shell.

Is David Specht in the room?

A couple of weeks ago, Gov. Bobby Jindal was in town to speak about the recently completed special session. He made his stop at Bossier Parish Community College and I was in the audience to listen to his comments.

With him behind the podium were many of the northwest Louisiana delegation, including District 9 Rep. Henry Burns. Gov. Jindal offered each legislator an opportunity to speak before giving his remarks.

When is was Rep. Burns time, he began by asking "Is David Specht in the room?"

Totally caught off guard, I sheepishly raised my hand. Rep. Burns went on the praise an article I had written wrapping up the session in a previous edition of the Press-Tribune.

It was a gratifying, yet humbling experience. Journalists do not write articles to receive praise, especially from those who they are covering with their reports. Howver it is nice when someone says "You got it right."

Thank you Rep. Burns.

May The Blog Be With You

Coming to a neighborhood near you

Beginning last Friday, I have enjoyed the privilege of throwing newspapers in the Dogwood Subdivision of Haughton. It has been a very rewarding experience.

First, it gets me out of the office. It seems I have been stuck indoors as of late and throwing newspapers on a nice afternoon is really refreshing.

Next, it makes me realize how fast our area is growing. Have you ever tried to map a neighborhood on mapquest, only to learn that there are a ton of streets not on mapquest yet? That has happened to me during this experience. I am amazed at the growth just in Dogwood.

I have waved to and spoken to many fine people in the neighborhood. There is just something about saying, “good afternoon” to someone and having them reciprocate the greeting.

As much as I enjoy the task of throwing newspapers in Dogwood, I cannot do it forever. So we are looking for a permanent carrier on that route. Once filled, I will move on to another Bossier Parish neighborhood.

So, if you see a smoky-gray Jeep with a Florida Gators license plate, wave. I promise to wave back.

After all, I’m just your friendly neighborhood newspaper man.

May The Blog Be With You.

Are you an "Angry White Man?"

The following is from the Aspen Times-News. Someone forwarded it as an email, so I hope it is ok to share it with you here:

In election 2008, don’t forget Angry White Man

Gary Hubbell
February 9, 2008


There is a great amount of interest in this year’s presidential elections, as everybody seems to recognize that our next president has to be a lot better than George Bush. The Democrats are riding high with two groundbreaking candidates — a woman and an African-American — while the conservative Republicans are in a quandary about their party’s nod to a quasi-liberal maverick, John McCain.

Each candidate is carefully pandering to a smorgasbord of special-interest groups, ranging from gay, lesbian and transgender people to children of illegal immigrants to working mothers to evangelical Christians.

There is one group no one has recognized, and it is the group that will decide the election: the Angry White Man. The Angry White Man comes from all economic backgrounds, from dirt-poor to filthy rich. He represents all geographic areas in America, from urban sophisticate to rural redneck, deep South to mountain West, left Coast to Eastern Seaboard.

His common traits are that he isn’t looking for anything from anyone — just the promise to be able to make his own way on a level playing field. In many cases, he is an independent businessman and employs several people. He pays more than his share of taxes and works hard.

The victimhood syndrome buzzwords — “disenfranchised,” “marginalized” and “voiceless” — don’t resonate with him. “Press ‘one’ for English” is a curse-word to him. He’s used to picking up the tab, whether it’s the company Christmas party, three sets of braces, three college educations or a beautiful wedding.

He believes the Constitution is to be interpreted literally, not as a “living document” open to the whims and vagaries of a panel of judges who have never worked an honest day in their lives.

The Angry White Man owns firearms, and he’s willing to pick up a gun to defend his home and his country. He is willing to lay down his life to defend the freedom and safety of others, and the thought of killing someone who needs killing really doesn’t bother him.

The Angry White Man is not a metrosexual, a homosexual or a victim. Nobody like him drowned in Hurricane Katrina — he got his people together and got the hell out, then went back in to rescue those too helpless and stupid to help themselves, often as a police officer, a National Guard soldier or a volunteer firefighter.

His last name and religion don’t matter. His background might be Italian, English, Polish, German, Slavic, Irish, or Russian, and he might have Cherokee, Mexican, or Puerto Rican mixed in, but he considers himself a white American.

He’s a man’s man, the kind of guy who likes to play poker, watch football, hunt white-tailed deer, call turkeys, play golf, spend a few bucks at a strip club once in a blue moon, change his own oil and build things. He coaches baseball, soccer and football teams and doesn’t ask for a penny. He’s the kind of guy who can put an addition on his house with a couple of friends, drill an oil well, weld a new bumper for his truck, design a factory and publish books. He can fill a train with 100,000 tons of coal and get it to the power plant on time so that you keep the lights on and never know what it took to flip that light switch.

Women either love him or hate him, but they know he’s a man, not a dishrag. If they’re looking for someone to walk all over, they’ve got the wrong guy. He stands up straight, opens doors for women and says “Yes, sir” and “No, ma’am.”

He might be a Republican and he might be a Democrat; he might be a Libertarian or a Green. He knows that his wife is more emotional than rational, and he guides the family in a rational manner.

He’s not a racist, but he is annoyed and disappointed when people of certain backgrounds exhibit behavior that typifies the worst stereotypes of their race. He’s willing to give everybody a fair chance if they work hard, play by the rules and learn English.

Most important, the Angry White Man is pissed off. When his job site becomes flooded with illegal workers who don’t pay taxes and his wages drop like a stone, he gets righteously angry. When his job gets shipped overseas, and he has to speak to some incomprehensible idiot in India for tech support, he simmers. When Al Sharpton comes on TV, leading some rally for reparations for slavery or some such nonsense, he bites his tongue and he remembers. When a child gets charged with carrying a concealed weapon for mistakenly bringing a penknife to school, he takes note of who the local idiots are in education and law enforcement.

He also votes, and the Angry White Man loathes Hillary Clinton. Her voice reminds him of a shovel scraping a rock. He recoils at the mere sight of her on television. Her very image disgusts him, and he cannot fathom why anyone would want her as their leader. It’s not that she is a woman. It’s that she is who she is. It’s the liberal victim groups she panders to, the “poor me” attitude that she represents, her inability to give a straight answer to an honest question, his tax dollars that she wants to give to people who refuse to do anything for themselves.

There are many millions of Angry White Men. Four million Angry White Men are members of the National Rifle Association, and all of them will vote against Hillary Clinton, just as the great majority of them voted for George Bush.

He hopes that she will be the Democratic nominee for president in 2008, and he will make sure that she gets beaten like a drum.

Gary Hubbell is a regular columnist with the Aspen Times Weekly.

Commuter Blues

For those who do not know, I have a 30-mile commute on Interstate 20 to the office. Since mid January, there has been construction on that route around the Haughton exit.

If you are traveling to Bossier on I-20, you have two choices, stay on I-20 or take U.S. Hwy. 80.

During the past few weeks, I have tried both routes and neither one is any better than the other. In fact, I have come to the conclusion that you might as well stay on the Interstate. I've tried to take the "alternate route," but usually end up getting stuck in traffic with other "alternate routers."

Perhaps the most frustrating part of it all is the inconsistency of the traffic. Some days I make it through with barely a slowdown. Other days, you find yourself at a standstill for what seems like an eternity.

I know we will all be happier when the work is done and we have a smooth interstate on which to travel. Until then (my apologies to Johnny Cash):

I see that sign a comin'
It's up around the bend
And my car ain't been movin'
Since I don't know when

I'm stuck in backed-up traffic
And time keeps draggin' on

But the lane keeps on mergin'
To my work and home.

May the Blog Be With You.

A New Year

In the Movie, Forest Gump, a young lady tells Forest that the best thing about the New Year is that you get to start over. This week has felt like a fresh start in many ways.

As the holidays end and the Christmas decorations come down, you feel like you finally have your house back.

The schedule is no longer filled with parties, gatherings and events, Routine can return to normal. With the return to a normal routine comes the feeling that you starting all over again.

For me, this week has allowed me to focus once again on the future, both professionally and personally. I look forward to many great things -- both in the form of great opportunities and great challenges.

I hope you are looking forward to 2008 as well.

May The Blog Be With You.

A "Road to Bethlehem" Encounter

During the past couple of days, I have some interesting encounters with the "fat man in the red suit." The first meeting with Santa Claus came Sunday night following our church's Youth and Children's Christmas production.

Santa was there to have his photo made with the kids. You should have seen the look on each child's face as they waited for a chance to sit on Kris Kringle's lap. Some kids were about to explode with excitement, while others looked intimidated by this "Christmas Icon."

My next "Santa" moment came when I was typing up local letters to St. Nick for the newspaper. Each year we publish these letters in our last edition before Christmas. While the kids were all quick to ask for their favorite present, they also expressed their love. From a simple, "I love you Santa," to many hearts drawn on the page, these kids were serious about their devotion.

A close friend of mine told me how her grandson "really, really believes" in Santa Claus. This faith was strengthened when a chimney sweep brought a torn piece of red cloth to him and said he found it in the chimney. "You found part of Santa's suit in there!" the youngster exclaimed.

Kids all over the globe are doing their best to be on their best behavior these final days before Christmas. They don't want Santa to pass by their house.

Each of these encounters reminded me of Jesus. Or should I say, how we should be thinking of Jesus. If you took the time to re-read the preceding paragraphs and replaced the word "Santa" with "Jesus," you would see what I mean.

We should all be serious in our devotion to the King of kings and Lord of Lords. We should "really, really believe" in Jesus. We should be on our best behavior so that He doesn't pass us by.

The Bible says we should all have a "child-like" faith. We certainly see a great example through the faith kids have in Santa. We should teach them to have such faith in the One whose birthday is celebrated at this time of year.




May the Blog Be With You. And Merry Christmas