Category Archives: local news

economic news, local news

Come back during rush hour!

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A friend who lives in Austin ventured through Princeton recently partly to check out some of the issues I have raised on this blog … at least that’s what he said.

He was traveling from Paris through Princeton and wanted to know about the hubbub over this city’s enormous growth.

He got a small taste of what I have been saying about this Collin County community that is undergoing a fairly fundamental identity crisis. My friend said somethinga about the city-imposed moratorium on residential construction. The council imposed the ban and then recently extended it another six months. My hunch is that it will do so again and again … and may even again.

City Manager Mike Mashburn estimates that Princeton is home to more than 40,000 residents. I believe him! Builders are planting “New Homes Coming” signs still on undeveloped residential plots as they commence contruction to fulfill building permits that already were approved prior to the council’s decision to suspend residential construction.

The city has overbuilt beyond its ability to service the people who already are here. It is trying to halt the construction long enough to enable it to provide the infrastructure it needs to provide the service.

My friend said he cannot imagine how tough it is during morning and evening rush hours along U.S. 380, the major east-west thoroughfare that cuts through Princeton. What’s more, it’s going to get worse. Texas transportation gurus want to widen 380 from four lanes to six, but to do that the’ll have to shut down two of the lanes to make the highway a two-lane track while they build the extra lanes.

I appreciate my friend’s outsider perspective. He can’t “imagine” how bad it can get here. I got news for him. Neither can I.

local news

No fun traveling these days

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Remember when you were a kid and you just couldn’t wait to go to the airport and prepare to fly on a big jet airplane?

Traveling was fun in those days, correct? Not any more.

Hey, I’m whippin’ a dead horse with that one, but it needs a little wallop once again.

I just returned from a four-day trip to Portland, Ore., to bid my sister a heartfelt farewell. Getting there and back, though, was no picnic.

Transportation Safety Administration personnel always seem to ensure that our next flying adventure will be one for the books. To be fair, this one doesn’t qualify as an epic experience. My departure from Dallas/Fort Worth airport was relatively hassle free. I didn’t have to remove my shoes and place my laptop in a separate basket for screening. I breezed on through.

Coming home last night was a bit different as I departed Portland’s airport. TSA staffers were barking orders and, frankly, giving this old guy a bit of anxiety trying to get through the maze and lie ahead.

But I got through.

I say all this merely to remind us of the havoc those fu**ing terrorists created on 9/11.

We won’t ever return to the good old days when flying was fun.  Stlll, I kind of like longing for a moment when I can relive the joy I used to feel when I got ready to get on that big bird and fly away.

local news

Farewell, sis … what a ride!

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PORTLAND — I came back to the city my birth — and my sisters’ birth — to bid farewell to the older of my sisters.

Georgianne surrendered to the physical demons that had plagued her for years, succumbing Feb. 24 to complications brought on by COPD.  She was 14 months younger than me.

We had two services. One was to celebrate sis’s amazing life. She lived just short of 74 years. Her trip in this life was a wild one, to be sure. She had her issues growing up. Sis got through them and went on to lead a productive life. The other service was at the crypt where her ashes are interred next to Mom and Dad.

Sis never really shook herself completely free of the difficulties that followed her into teenhood and early young adulthood.

However, she was full of love and that love came back to blanket her during the celebrations we had of the life she led. I am grateful for that and I know she is, too.

I will return home late tomorrow to North Texas, where I have established my own life. Perhaps I should say where I am rebuilding my life. Many of you who have read this blog know about the circumstances there. It’s coming along.

This trip to where I came into this world, though, is about Georgianne Duback. She would tell me while seeking a favor from me that “I’ll love you forever.”

Well, sis, know that I truly will love you forever.

local news

Another tale of loss

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My reluctance to share this latest twist in my life’s journey has buckled under the pressure to reveal a bit about my family to all of you.

I lost my sister to illness not long ago. She was 14 months younger than me. She had suffered terribly for a long time with a list of ailments too long for me to count here. It was a bout with COPD that claimed my sis. Her heart stopped and the medics couldn’t bring her back.

Georgianne died in the house she shared with her husband.

Sis led a complicated life. However, we remained close despite some differences over many issues dating back to our teen years. It’s difficult to explain, except that I knew her my entire life. She was part of my life the moment I became aware of my surroundings as a toddler.

I have been feeling down in the dumps over the past several days. I guess it’s a feeling of mortality that has gripped me.

My parents weren’t allowed to grow old. Dad was 59 when he perished in a boating accident in 1980. Mom was 61 when she succumbed to Alzheimer’s disease four years later. My bride was 71 when she passed from glioblastoma — cancer of the brain. All but one of my parents’ eight siblings have passed away.

We’re going to gather later this week to celebrate Georgianne’s life in a service at a church she and her husband attended in a rural Washington state community. The next day we will gather at a cemetery in Portland to have her remains blessed by an Orthodox priest from the church where my sisters and I were baptized.

I have no particular need to tell you all of this, other than to put it in the open. I have one sister left and I venture to believe we will be drawn even closer than we are already … and that’s really saying something.

Maybe I should declare a bit of regret that I wasn’t always kind to my departed sister. She had this way of getting under my skin with the occasional statement or opinion that exhibited a stunning lack of awareness that others were hurting.

But … she was my sister. I loved her unconditionally. I will miss her for the rest of my life.

local news

Love this service

I am going to sound like a self-righteous do-gooder with this brief blog post, so I’ll apologize in advance for anyone who takes it that way.

I deliver Meals on Wheels every Monday to about a dozen households in Princeton. It takes me a little more than an hour to deliver a hot meal, a bottle of milk and a dessert/snack to shut-ins.

It is truly a gratifying hour-plus I spend each week. Almost without exception these folks greet me with a smile and a good word. For many of them it is clear to me they don’t talk with anyone outside of immediate family. Many of them have timed my arrival, as it’s about the same each week. They open the door as I am walking to deliver the knock or ring the bell.

We engage in small talk. They wish me well. One sweet lady near the end of my route always instructs me to “be careful, darlin’.”

How in the world can one start your day any better than that?

And yet … here’s where the politics comes in. The Elon Musk/Donald Trump administration well might ponder a way to cut funding for thie program. I haven’t yet heard whether the Collin County branch of Meals on Wheels is in jeopardy. I only am left to hope that it somehow survives the draconian cuts that Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency is pondering.

Keep your grimy mitts off this valuable service we provide for those in need.

local news, medical news

No redeeming value in this loss

Two years have passed since I experienced the worst day of my life and I still am getting the reaction from those intending to offer some semblance of comfort.

I recently explained to someone who inquired about my marital status. “I am a widower,” I responded. “Oh? Tell me what happened,” came the reaction. I told this individual about the glioblastoma that struck Kathy Anne, about the surgery to removed part of the mass in her brain, the rehab, the grand mal seizure and finally the end that came six weeks after the diagnosis.

“At least she didn’t suffer,” the individual said … to which I shot back, “There is nothing positive I can claim from all this.”

To be clear, I am rebuilding my life and the foundation for my new life looks promising. The brevity of my bride’s battle does not lessen the pain that came at the end of her life on Earth.

I have been through all kinds of family tragedy. Dad’s death in September 1980 was sudden and shocking. The last words I said to him were, “I’ll see you Wednesday.” He left on a weekend fishing trip to British Columbia, but then perished when the skipper of the boat he was in crashed into a log jam. Dad died instantly. I got the news and I felt the numbness of the shock consume my body.

Mom died nearly four years later to the day. She suffered from Alzheimer’s disease. We watched her disappear before our eyes over several years, losing cognitive skill bit by agonizing bit. The end came. I was expecting it.

Both instances inflicted enormous pain on our family.

Then came Kathy Anne’s sudden illness and then she was gone.

I never will accept the end of my bride’s life as a “blessing” because she “didn’t suffer.” The pain, although it still twinges, has become something I am able to manage and control.

Life does go on.

environmental news, local news

DST or Standard Time?

Americans are going to go through that twice-a-year rite of bitching about the shift from Standard Time to Daylight Saving Time.

We’ll have to push the clocks ahead one hour before we hit the sack Saturday night. Or else we’ll all be late for worship and all other things we do on Sunday.

Then the gripes will come.

  • Why do we have to keep messing with our body clocks?
  • I hate this time change stuff; it messes me up!
  • Farmers and ranchers shouldn’t have to change the times they feed their livestock. I mean, cattle and horses don’t know the difference!

You know how it goes.

For one thing, changing the schedlule from Standard Time to DST — and then back again in the fall — never has been a big deal for me. I get, though, why some folks dislike the change.

Texas had a chance a few years back to vote on whether to change to one time-keeping system or remain the same. The Legislature didn’t get the legislation prepared in time, so lawmakers adjourned the session sine die and the bill never got put to a vote.

If I had to choose, though, I think I would prefer permanent DST. Why? I just like having more daylight at the end of the day than at the beginning. It’s just me, man … you know?

Changing back and forth, though,  never has been a big f****** deal me.

So ,.. let’s all spring forward toward the next long, blistering Norh Texas summer, shall we?

local news

I am ‘home’ for keeps

A friend asked me a question I have been asked many times since moving to Texas in the spring of 1984.

“Do you plan to move back to Oregon at any time?” the question came. I answered my pal the same way I have answered it many times before.

“My short answer is no,” I said. He wanted to know why.

“It’s too expensive there,” I said. I have watched real estate prices climb into the heavens in the state of my birth and I have determined I cannot afford to live there.

Plus, I told my friend, my wife Kathy Anne and I moved to Texas to advance my journalism career. We were successful in (a) allowing my career to proceed and provide me with some modest success along the way and (b) carving out a great life in three vastly different regions of this massive state.

We moved to the Golden Triangle, then to the Panhandle, and then to the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. Each region provided us with great joy, a bit of culture shock and the move to the D/FW area put us close to our granddaughter, who tomorrow celebrates her 12th birthday.

All of this is my way of saying out loud that although I have proven to be an adaptable fellow, I still am able to sink my roots deeply into whatever terrain where I am living. I have done so in the Lone Star State.

I am here likely for the duration.

local news, State news

Princeton still needs an ID

Princeton is a growing North Texas city that needs to establish a community event that delivers an identity to a rapidly developing community.

City Manager Mike Mashburn estimates Princeton’s population at 43,000 residents. It’s a far cry, therefore, from the tiny burg that straddles U.S. Highway 380.

Why bring this issue up again? I received my copy of Texas Highways annual Texas State Travel Guide. I have been reading Texas Highways magazine for many years. It is a premier travel magazine that highlights communities throughout our vast state, telling visitors of places and people of interest.

This year’s Travel Guide, just like all the rest I have seen over many decades, contains not a single mention of Princeton. The 2025 edition of the Travel Guide doesn’t list Princeton in the section dedicated to communities throughout North and Northeast Texas.

Farmersville, a much smaller community eight miles east of Princeton, is listed among potential destinations in Texas. Farmersville commemorates World War II hero Audie Murphy every year; the Rike Memorial Library contains an Audie Murphy exhibit; Chaparral Trail gets a mention; so does Freedom Park in the city’s downtown plaza.

Princeton, which is roughly 10 times the size of Farmersville, gets no mention at all.

I know that these identity issues take time to develop. Princeton clearly is a city in transition as it seeks to manage the explosive growth that at times seens to overwhelm local officials.

I have lived in Princeton for six years. I enjoy my life here. However, there seems to be little community enthusiasm for events that benefit the entire city … and make Princeton a place to visit and to enjoy the benefits of life in the growing community.

If Texas Highways magazine cannot mention this rapidly growing city, then the folks at City Hall need to redouble their efforts to stage an event that brings people here … if only for a day!

I want my city to get a mention in the state’s premier travel magazine. I guess I will have to wait until next year.

local news

Complex defies logic

Suppose someone had placed a loaded pistol to my noggin, cocked the hammer and told me to predict the future of a long-abandoned 360-unit partially built apartment complex in Princeton, Texas.

I would have said, under duress, that it would be knocked down, the rubble scraped up and the site turned iinto a park.

Silly me. The City Council instead decided to give the developer some grace and told him to finish the job.

So, the Princeton Luxury Apartment complex is being built again on U.S. Highway 380 just east of the Wal-Mart store.

Let me be clear. I still question the wisdom of granting the permit years ago to proceed with this complex, given the growth occurring in Princeton and the incredible strain on traffic that this complex is going to bring to an already-stressed traffic thoroughfare. I heard about the pending project immediately after my wife and I moved to Princeton. My first reaction was muted, but then I grew to wonder: What was the City Council thinking?

The contractor and the developer got into a snit about three years ago. The contractor walked off the job, leaving it about 30%-ish complete. It sat there vacant, only turning into more of an eyesore with each passing season of inclement weather.

Then, something of a miracle happened. The developer was able to find a contractor to finish the task. Three buildings, though, were knocked down because they were beyond redemption.

The site, though, is humming once again with construction through the winter wind chills.

I’ve noted already that a city’s progress occasionally brings some pain along the way. Princeton is one such city that is a work in progress. Its populaton far exceeds the 17,027 Census figure on the signs entering Princeton. City Council has enacted a building ban on residential developments at least until this summer.

The apartment complex in question is going to open about the time work begins to widen U.S. 380, turning the highway into the last place on Earth you want to be during morning and evening rush hours.

Princeton’s progress is proceeding. I only hope now that the apartment complex, once it’s finished, will add another jewel to the growing city’s crown.