Ben Lockridge
blockridge@themeridianstar.com
ok, this goes on my list of things that scare me.
Yes, folks. That's a robot. I'll leave you with that.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Robbery suspect
By Ben Lockridge
blockridge@themeridianstar.com
This was sent to us today. It had me laughing... then I sighed when I realized it was true.
blockridge@themeridianstar.com
This was sent to us today. It had me laughing... then I sighed when I realized it was true.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Amy Grant Concert
By Stephanie Denham, editorial assistant
Ok, I dug down deep and attended the Amy Grant concert on Sunday. As I wrote last week in my blog, the last concert that my daughter, Lorien and I went to was to see Amy Grant. Lorien was killed 17 years ago by a drunk driver here in Meridian. I went to the concert Sunday at the Riley Center. I cried from the moment she walked on stage. But it was a good cry that I needed to have again. The Lord sends people into your paths for different reasons. I met three of the nicest ladies from the Gulf Coast who came in and sat down behind me. We hit it off from the moment we sat down! We ended up eating dinner together at Deli on 5th after the concert and had a delightful time. We found that the four of us had so much in common, there was no way that I feel like it was an "accident" that we met! It was as we all decided, "divine providence." Amy Grant was fantastic! She had a terrible head cold and I truly do not know how she was able to sing and put on such a great show. I enjoyed it so much, she was so warm, gracious and made it seem like you were sitting in her living room and just listening to her. She took requests from the audience and just played her songs. So something that I knew was going to be painful and bittersweet turned into new memories and sweetness from now on. I just wondered later on that night, as I was thinking about it, I wondered if Lorien and God had as much fun planning the details of my concert experience and the meeting of my new friends, as I did in receiving them. I almost heard Lorien giggle and could see her sweet smile when I closed my eyes to go to sleep. As one of my new friends said, in a "gratitude attitude."
Ok, I dug down deep and attended the Amy Grant concert on Sunday. As I wrote last week in my blog, the last concert that my daughter, Lorien and I went to was to see Amy Grant. Lorien was killed 17 years ago by a drunk driver here in Meridian. I went to the concert Sunday at the Riley Center. I cried from the moment she walked on stage. But it was a good cry that I needed to have again. The Lord sends people into your paths for different reasons. I met three of the nicest ladies from the Gulf Coast who came in and sat down behind me. We hit it off from the moment we sat down! We ended up eating dinner together at Deli on 5th after the concert and had a delightful time. We found that the four of us had so much in common, there was no way that I feel like it was an "accident" that we met! It was as we all decided, "divine providence." Amy Grant was fantastic! She had a terrible head cold and I truly do not know how she was able to sing and put on such a great show. I enjoyed it so much, she was so warm, gracious and made it seem like you were sitting in her living room and just listening to her. She took requests from the audience and just played her songs. So something that I knew was going to be painful and bittersweet turned into new memories and sweetness from now on. I just wondered later on that night, as I was thinking about it, I wondered if Lorien and God had as much fun planning the details of my concert experience and the meeting of my new friends, as I did in receiving them. I almost heard Lorien giggle and could see her sweet smile when I closed my eyes to go to sleep. As one of my new friends said, in a "gratitude attitude."
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Remembering a great man
By Fredie Carmichael
Editor@themeridianstar.com
My world feels void of something meaningful ... something I feel is likely commonplace the past few days in our community.
Bill McBride, who passed away over the weekend after a short bout with illness, was someone I will forever hold dear to my heart. I still can't believe he's gone.
It took me a while to work up the courage to write. Part of me didn't want to believe he was gone, so hard to write about him in the past tense. Another part of me felt as though my words couldn't possibly convey anything close to what my heart feels. I want to do this man, my friend, justice with words.
But how do you put into words what he meant to so many ... it's impossible.
Bill McBride was one of a kind and true "believer" of this community. For those who only heard criticisms, you weren't listening to Bill. His heart was for the progress of this community. And he lived it.
If you want to talk about someone who loves their community, don't pony up someone who only talks glaringly about their community and ignores the problems— show me a man like Bill McBride.
Show me a man who spent Saturdays planting flowers at a neglected park.
Show me a man so involved in the restoration of a local cemetery that he volunteered his time to plant bulbs there every spring and fall, and conducted tours for organizations and schools.
Show me a man that, in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, served as shelter manager for the American Red Cross at his church.
Show me a man that defined volunteerism by doing something most don't ... getting his hands dirty and working.
Show me a true patriot who proudly served his country in the U.S. Navy for 30 years.
Show me a man who would look you directly in the eye and passionately express his opinion ... while also listening and respecting your opinion, even if it opposed his.
Show me a man that constantly lifted others ahead of himself.
Show me a true man of God ... not a phony, self-righteous Christian who had all the right things to say, but a man who was equally comfortable displaying his faults in a profound example of how God works in our lives. A man more concerned about helping his fellow man and showing God's love through his actions than pretending to be perfect.
Show me a man who drew attention to others, never looking for the credit.
After all of that, show me a man courageous enough to look that community in the face and tell it what it needs to be doing to reach its full potential.
Show me a man who cares enough to examine and investigate its problems in an effort to reach a solution.
Show me a man with heart, substance, honor and respect.
Bill McBride was, in short, a man I will constantly aim to be like. He leaves shoes impossible to fill.
I could give you countless stories of why Bill has a special place in my heart, stories of true compassion, caring, brilliance, and humor. Instead, I'll leave you with something I've struggled with the past few days ... something that perfectly illustrates who Bill McBride was to me.
It was my last encounter with Bill on his radio show two weeks ago. I walked in and saw Bill, frail from his treatment, his oxygen tank next to him with tubes in his nose. I went white. I was distraught seeing him in that condition.
Bill sensed my shock and, instead of complaining about his condition, reassured me he was OK.
"I'm fine buddy ... doc told me I could eat all I want and do everything I could until I get tired," he said with smile.
"I wish they'd diagnosed me sooner," he joked.
His main goal was to put me at ease, never wanting to draw attention to his condition. He looked in my eyes and saw my worry; he wanted to ease that.
As I left, I leaned over to tell him I loved him and I was here if he needed anything. He looked at me as he always did — with sincerity in his eyes — and simply said, "thanks." Then he joked off his condition again.
"This won't slow me down," he joked.
I've struggled with that for days because I didn't realize how serious his condition was. I should have done more. I could have done more for him.
But tonight at Bill's visitation, I realized one thing: Bill hasn't gone anywhere.
He's still deep inside everyone of us he touched along the way.
I can smile tonight knowing one thing: Bill hasn't slowed yet, he's just getting started.
Editor@themeridianstar.com
My world feels void of something meaningful ... something I feel is likely commonplace the past few days in our community.
Bill McBride, who passed away over the weekend after a short bout with illness, was someone I will forever hold dear to my heart. I still can't believe he's gone.
It took me a while to work up the courage to write. Part of me didn't want to believe he was gone, so hard to write about him in the past tense. Another part of me felt as though my words couldn't possibly convey anything close to what my heart feels. I want to do this man, my friend, justice with words.
But how do you put into words what he meant to so many ... it's impossible.
Bill McBride was one of a kind and true "believer" of this community. For those who only heard criticisms, you weren't listening to Bill. His heart was for the progress of this community. And he lived it.
If you want to talk about someone who loves their community, don't pony up someone who only talks glaringly about their community and ignores the problems— show me a man like Bill McBride.
Show me a man who spent Saturdays planting flowers at a neglected park.
Show me a man so involved in the restoration of a local cemetery that he volunteered his time to plant bulbs there every spring and fall, and conducted tours for organizations and schools.
Show me a man that, in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, served as shelter manager for the American Red Cross at his church.
Show me a man that defined volunteerism by doing something most don't ... getting his hands dirty and working.
Show me a true patriot who proudly served his country in the U.S. Navy for 30 years.
Show me a man who would look you directly in the eye and passionately express his opinion ... while also listening and respecting your opinion, even if it opposed his.
Show me a man that constantly lifted others ahead of himself.
Show me a true man of God ... not a phony, self-righteous Christian who had all the right things to say, but a man who was equally comfortable displaying his faults in a profound example of how God works in our lives. A man more concerned about helping his fellow man and showing God's love through his actions than pretending to be perfect.
Show me a man who drew attention to others, never looking for the credit.
After all of that, show me a man courageous enough to look that community in the face and tell it what it needs to be doing to reach its full potential.
Show me a man who cares enough to examine and investigate its problems in an effort to reach a solution.
Show me a man with heart, substance, honor and respect.
Bill McBride was, in short, a man I will constantly aim to be like. He leaves shoes impossible to fill.
I could give you countless stories of why Bill has a special place in my heart, stories of true compassion, caring, brilliance, and humor. Instead, I'll leave you with something I've struggled with the past few days ... something that perfectly illustrates who Bill McBride was to me.
It was my last encounter with Bill on his radio show two weeks ago. I walked in and saw Bill, frail from his treatment, his oxygen tank next to him with tubes in his nose. I went white. I was distraught seeing him in that condition.
Bill sensed my shock and, instead of complaining about his condition, reassured me he was OK.
"I'm fine buddy ... doc told me I could eat all I want and do everything I could until I get tired," he said with smile.
"I wish they'd diagnosed me sooner," he joked.
His main goal was to put me at ease, never wanting to draw attention to his condition. He looked in my eyes and saw my worry; he wanted to ease that.
As I left, I leaned over to tell him I loved him and I was here if he needed anything. He looked at me as he always did — with sincerity in his eyes — and simply said, "thanks." Then he joked off his condition again.
"This won't slow me down," he joked.
I've struggled with that for days because I didn't realize how serious his condition was. I should have done more. I could have done more for him.
But tonight at Bill's visitation, I realized one thing: Bill hasn't gone anywhere.
He's still deep inside everyone of us he touched along the way.
I can smile tonight knowing one thing: Bill hasn't slowed yet, he's just getting started.
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