Tag Archives: Texas Panhandle

local news, religious news

That was some celebration

I have been home for a couple of days, but I remain filled with emotion over an event I attended this past Saturday in the church where my wife and I belonged for more than two decades.

It was a celebration of life to honor a woman who lived a glorious, joyful and faithful life on this Earth. Her name was Caroline Woodburn, a former Potter County district clerk, a self-described Barry Goldwater Republican, mother of three accomplished children and wife of a district judge in Amarillo.

The church sanctuary was packed. The Woodburn kids — two daughters and a son — all spoke eloquently about the life their mother led. The music was appropriately dignified and glorious. The preacher who presided gave a wonderful eulogy, filled with humor and love.

Then came the kicker.

As the service neared its end, a musician from Amarillo — Chuck Alexander — decided to play the great Neil Diamond hit “Sweet Caroline,” and he invited everyone to sing along. If we didn’t know the words, he said, you’ll know the refrain. Then he began. The song is played at every Boston Red Sox game at Fenway Park and is popular among Sox fans.

When we got to the refrain, everyone in the church sanctuary belted out “Sweet Caroline!” … and then followed that with the “bom, bom, bom” contained in the song. What a great moment!

As God is my witness, I am certain there couldn’t possibly have been a dry eye in the room as we sang that song to honor our friend. I also am certain as surely as I am typing these words that there were as many tears of joy as there were of sadness. My own eyes were drenched with tears, but it wasn’t a sad moment for me. I was laughing and crying at the same damn time!

I walked away from that service thinking one thought only. That was a true celebration of a life well-lived. If only we all could bring such joy to those who we meet along our journey on this good Earth.

local news, media news

I am the ‘newspaper guy’

AMARILLO — I attended the memorial service of a dear friend today, schmoozed with plenty of folks I once knew back in the old days and came away with a strange loss of identity.

You see, I once called this bustling city of 200,000 people my home, My wife and I lived here for 23 years, longer than in any community during our 51 years of married life together. Therefore, I was a bit puzzled by a seeming lack of recognition from some of those folks I once knew.

When I said the words “newspaper guy” or “Amarillo Globe-News,” I could see the light bulbs flicker on in their minds. “Oh, yeaaahhhh!” came the response. “I remember you now! Hey, welcome back home. Man, we sure could use you around here these days,” they would say … or words to that effect.

There you have it. I am identified by the job I performed for a newspaper that once was a significant presence in the lives of residents throughout the Texas Panhandle. It isn’t any longer. The Globe-News exists today mostly in the memories of those who subscribed to the morning Daily News, the evening Globe-Times or the Sunday News-Globe. Many of them read all three papers, given that they were produced by separate newsgathering and opinion page staffs.

Those days are long gone. Forever, too. The paper — if we can call it that — is merely a dimming shadow of its once-glorious self. The Globe-Times won the Pulitzer Prize for Meritorious Public Service in 1961, print journalism’s top prize.

What does any of this have to do with me? Not much, truth be told. I wasn’t part of that glorious past. I was part of a past that meant more to people’s lives than the present does or that the future ever will. We weren’t a great newspaper when I joined it in 1995, but we were solid and we damn sure reported the news thoroughly throughout the region.

What I didn’t realize is how much the job I did for the community melded itself into my identity. I will not complain about it. I am just realizing it out loud for the first time.

It’s all very strange.

environmental news, local news

Birds outsmart me

I have concluded that the term “bird brain” does an injustice to the creatures that actually rely on their brains to get them through life.

I now shall explain.

My wife, our sons and I moved to Texas in 1984, where we discovered right away that the Golden Triangle region of the state is rich in avian creatures. Kathy Anne wanted to treat them, so when we moved into our house in North Beaumont, we set up hummingbird feeders. My goodness, the birds literally flocked into our backyard to partake.

Years later, in early 1995, we moved from Beaumont to Amarillo … way up yonder in the far northwest corner of the state. KA was intent on feeding the Panhandle hummingbirds. Up went the feeders. Although the birds weren’t as plentiful as they were on the Gulf Coast, they did consume the substance we put out for them.

Then we moved again in early 2019, to Colin County, a tad north of Dallas. We set up the feeders again for the hummingbirds to enjoy.

Except that in five years in our house in Princeton, I have seen precisely one hummingbird. Just one! Oh, and what about the feeder’s contents? They disappear. Some birds are consuming this stuff … except they’re doing so when I am looking the other direction.

Go figure, man!

This will stand as my tribute to the fine-feathered creatures God produced for us spoil and for them to confound this smarty-pants human with their evasive tactics.

Hummingbirds, thus, should not be considered a “lower life form.”

local news, media news

Lamenting media’s sorry state

It is time for me to lament the sorry state of three newspapers where I worked full time as a print journalist.

Two of them are still in “business,” but barely so; the third one — the first newspaper that hired me as a young sportswriter — is gone, kaput, history.

I started work at the Oregon City, Ore. Enterprise-Courier in the spring of 1977. My first job was a temporary gig; it became permanent when a staff member resigned, and I took his place. I stayed there until the spring of 1984.

I moved to Beaumont, Texas, to work for the Beaumont Enterprise. I stayed at the Gulf Coast newspaper until January 1995.

Then I moved to the other end of Texas, to the Panhandle, to work for the Amarillo Globe-News, which at the time published two daily newspapers. The afternoon paper was folded into the morning paper in 2001. I stayed there until August 2012.

Since my departure, the Globe-News and — I must add — the Enterprise have devolved into shadows of their former solidness. Neither paper achieved true greatness, although the Globe-News — or more specifically, the p.m. Globe-Times — was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Meritorious Public Service in 1961.

That was then, when the communities served by newspapers depended on them to tell the communities’ stories. They were part of people’s lives. Their readers depended on them to keep them informed, to tell them about the world we all call home.

Alas, no more.

It has gotten so bad that I no longer look to either the Globe-News or the Enterprise to see what is happening in the communities where my family and lived. How sad is that? I’ll answer it for you. It’s very sad … at least it is to me.

The media climate has destroyed a once-great American institution. I was so very proud to be a part of it as I practiced my craft with great joy and dedication to following the rules of accuracy and fairness.

It’s not all gloomy, though. I remain in the game as a freelance reporter for a chain of weeklies in Collin County. I still am having more fun than I deserve.

Americans across the land have turned to other sources for information. Is it as reliable as the info we provided in Oregon City, in Beaumont and in Amarillo? I fear it is not.

That is to the shame of those who have wrecked what used to be the pride of many communities … and to those who have embraced this new media climate.

local news

What? No smoke?

AMARILLO — My drive to Amarillo filled me with some concern that I would enter a cloud of smoke as I entered the Texas Panhandle.

Glory be! I didn’t see any smoke. Those fires that ravaged this region I used to call home appear to have been quelled. At least from my vantage point along U.S. Highway 287 as I entered the city on its eastern side.

The fire brought enormous devastation to the region, taking the lives of several residents and at least one first responder — the Fritch fire chief — along with thousands of head of livestock.

I had seen the photos taken from jetliners flying overhead and from folks on the ground. The ominous smoke clouds were ghastly in the extreme.

The region, though, appears to have survived … to the extent that it can survive a record-setting blaze.

I returned to see some friends and get away from my North Texas neighborhood for a couple of days. I return Monday.

I am delighted to report that Panhandle is beautiful and clear … as it should be.

local news, media news

40 years ago … my life changed

Holy mackerel, man! This landmark anniversary almost got past me, but I won’t let it go without offering a comment on how a single move from one state to another changed my life.

I grew up in Portland, Ore. I lived there for the first 34 years of my life. I met the girl of my dreams there. I married her. We brought two sons into the world. I started my career in journalism there.

Then it changed in late 1983 with a phone call from a former boss of mine. He had gravitated to Beaumont, Texas. He wanted to know if I would like to work with him on the Gulf Coast at a newspaper that was healthy, vibrant and a chronicler of a tremendous “news town.”

I interviewed for the job. He offered it to me. I accepted his terms. I moved from Portland to Beaumont in March 1984. My career got the boost it needed.

I landed in a great news town, as my boss had stated. In my first week on the job, voters there cast their ballots on a street-naming referendum. Beaumont’s Black community wanted to change the name of a major street to honor Martin Luther King Jr.; the referendum failed narrowly.

Did I suffer culture shock? Yes. I wasn’t used to racial politics. I ran smack into it in Beaumont. I adjusted nicely, I am happy to report.

I did enjoy modest success from 1984 on to the end of my full-time career.

My family joined me a few months after I got to what I call The Swamp. My sons came of age in Texas. My bride and I carved out a wonderful life here.

We stayed in Beaumont for nearly 11 years. Then we moved again. To Amarillo about 700 miles northwest of our home. Culture shock again? Yep! We stayed in Amarillo for 23 years. I enjoyed more success there. We made many friends in both of our stops in Texas.

My career ended in August 2012. I was “reorganized” out of my job. I quit on the spot and got on with the rest of my life.

What did all of this teach me about myself? It taught me that I am an adaptable creature. My years in Oregon gave me a comfort level I thought I would be reluctant to let go. I had spent two years away from home serving my country in the Army. Perhaps my time in the Army prepared me unknowingly for what would happen 14 years after I returned home when I got the call to move to a part of the country that was vastly different from what I knew.

Then opportunity knocked. I answered the proverbial “door.”

Have I reached a new comfort level in my new home state? Yes. Texas’s politics has changed dramatically since our arrival here 40 years ago, but I am not one to move on just because politicians who represent us make decisions with which I disagree.

I am still keeping up the fight. I will do so with this blog for as long as I am able.

The past 40 years have zoomed by. I am trying to slow it down a bit. Wish me luck on that effort.

environmental news, local news

Goodness survives the flames

Stories about fire that rages out of control bring fear and hopelessness to many of us; we worry about what it all means and the lives it affects.

It seems the Texas Panhandle wildfires that have burned something far north of a million acres of rangeland would produce so little news to cheer.

Then I hear about all the trucks hauling hay into the fire zone. The hay is being trucked in to feed the livestock that has survived the inferno. It’s coming from neighboring ranches unaffected by the rampaging flames.

These demonstrations of selflessness remind us of the good that resides in the hearts of those who feel the pain being inflicted on those who must face down nature’s fiery wrath.

I no longer have a personal stake in what is happening in the Panhandle region of this great state. We moved away from there in 2018. Our son sold his home this past year to move near his brother’s family and me after my dear bride passed away.

I do have friends remaining in the region. I know of at least two families that have evacuated their homes and then returned once the danger had passed; they are thanking God Almighty their homes are still intact.

I am going to cling to the knowledge of the good that has presented itself as the remote region of Texas fights the flames. May it remind us of the good in humanity that fire cannot destroy.

local news, media news

The party? It was worth it!

HOUSTON — Thomas Wolfe once wrote that “You can never go home again,” and I suppose you can’t.

However, you can reunite with those with whom you once formed relationships that went far beyond your professional environment.

I came back to this city which is close to where I jump-started my journalism career in Texas. I returned to pay my respects to a former colleague who passed away earlier this year from symptoms of a devastating stroke she suffered.

I also returned to see old friends and colleagues with whom I became acquainted as a fellow journalist seeking to make an impact on the Golden Triangle community we all served while working for the Beaumont Enterprise.

I gotta tell ya, the return was every bit worth the effort I put into coming back to The Bayou. I saw many of my friends. We hugged. They all knew about the tragedy that struck my family and me earlier this year and to a person they all showered me with love.

To be clear, I didn’t come here because I needed the love I received. I have gotten plenty of it already from my immediate family, my extended family and the many friends Kathy Anne and I made in the Golden Triangle and in the Texas Panhandle, where we lived for23 years before moving to the Dallas/Fort Worth area in late 2018.

But, damn … it was so good to see these men and women who welcomed my family and me to our new surroundings in 1984 and who have remained close to my heart in the decades that have passed.

I have long believed that true friendships last no matter how often you see someone. I don’t see these folks often, but I want them to know how much I love them.

media news

Hold ’em accountable

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The seemingly pending demise of local journalism in communities across the country has me dismayed almost beyond measure.

I have been sharing email messages with a longtime Texas Panhandle journalist who endorsed my concern over the slow, steady and agonizing degradation of the Amarillo Globe-News, the newspaper where I worked for nearly 18 years before my career came to a halt in August 2012.

What is happening in the Panhandle is a tragedy. There’s no other way to describe it. The Canadian Record, a weekly newspaper of longstanding fame and tradition, shut its doors earlier this year, leaving that portion of the Panhandle with no voice.

The Globe-News no longer publishes a daily editorial page and it has gone to mailing its editions to consumers, a decision that, in my view, makes delivery of timely news an absolute impossibility.

The biggest loser in all of this, according to my friend and former colleague, are those who demand that local politicians be held accountable. My friend wrote this:

“The worst part of all this is that for a democracy to survive at its best, there needs to be scrutiny of the decisions of public officials, otherwise it’ll be easier for more of them to succumb to temptation with impunity, with little to no oversight. The public gets the short straw and honest, efficient government at all levels suffers terribly. There goes democracy as it’s supposed to work.”

The media are supposed to function as the public’s eyes and ears. It reports on what government does, what those who run our government say and on the results of those decisions to those of us who rely on government.

The media also are charged with being the voice of the public that consumes what the media report and then speak out either in favor of or against what government is doing for — or to — them.

This is what we always tried to do at every stop I made along my way through a modestly successful — and wholly gratifying — career in print journalism. We occasionally reported and commented on matters the public didn’t want to hear; and they let us know when that occurred. We also received applause when we earned it from the public that thanked us for being there for them.

That element is being stripped away piece by piece by this new age of journalism that is taking on a totally different look from what I remember.

It’s about the accountability … stupid!

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

local news

Traveling alone, as in … alone!

AMARILLO, Texas — It took me a few hours today to realize what was different about this brief excursion from my North Texas home to points northwest on the Texas Caprock.

I was alone in the pickup. By that I mean I was totally alone.

Now, you know that my dear bride, Kathy Anne, is gone. It’s obvious to you that she is unable to accompany me alongside in her customary place in the vehicle we own.

What isn’t obvious is that Toby the Puppy didn’t make this trip. He stayed home to keep my son and his two kitties, Macy and Marlowe, company.

I ventured back to the High Plains to see a few friends. Not many of them, mind you, because I’m here only for a couple of days before I head back to the house in Princeton.

But damn! Not having my puppy with me is seriously strange, man. I talk to him while we motor along the highway. He doesn’t talk back, obviously. He does respond with a tail wag and a lick. He will let me know if he has to relieve himself along the way; he gives me the doe-eyed stare and he might start to paw my arm, as if to say, “Dad, uhhh, it’s time to pull over.”

But for the first time in, oh, a very long time I have no traveling companion to share a laugh or to say, “I love you.” Yes, I tell Toby the Puppy that I love him all the time, just as I told Kathy Anne that very truth for more than 50 years.

She would say she loved me, too. Toby the Puppy? He expresses his love differently, but I know it when he tells me.

I’m glad I’ll be away only for two nights. Then I head home. The next sojourn commences in a couple of weeks; it will take me east to North Carolina and Virginia and points between here and there.

Toby the Puppy will be with me for every mile of that trek.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com