For more than 40 years, Bob Kerr worked at the Providence Journal, where he was beloved by many readers for his columns about the people and the issues that animate Rhode Island. Recently, he’s been thinking back on his time at the ProJo.
Hilary Horton was my editor when I wrote the local column in the Providence Journal 20 years ago. We would get together in the late afternoon, looking for the better word, cleaning up the clutter, finding what the heck I was trying to say. The column was always the better for it.
The Golden Age Grease Caper gives us hope - at least those of us who are closing in on that rock solid verification of old age, that sure fire boarding pass for the bus to Foxwoods and the complimentary roll of quarters.
The Golden Age Grease caper provides one of those cherished, you’re-never-too-old moments that can be warmly, eagerly embraced as a ringing geezer declaration of independence.
Personally, I’m taking it as irrefutable proof that 70 is the new 65.
In late August, the power was shut off at the River United Methodist Church. The church, in the heart of downtown Woonsocket, was about a thousand bucks in arrears on its electric bill. The guy from National Grid apologized for doing what he had to do.
Church members, who specialize in doing a whole lot with very little, scrambled to do what they always do. They took food from freezers and refrigerators and headed to a nearby park to feed hungry people.
Veterans are more complete citizens, I think. We hold our country closer, and we know our country better for having gotten on the bus and gone to boot camp and earned the right to train and fight, get scared and get drunk with the richest mix of Americans to be found anywhere.
I remember the farm kids and the ghetto kids and the kids gone to the Marines instead of prison. I remember the kids like me who wanted to break from college-bred predictability and take a mad leap into the unknown. Some of us were looking for our hard side and found we didn’t have one.