A Hopkinsville native is launching his party rental business with a movie that is sure to pull on heartstrings and strike up conversation about the Black Lives Matter movement.
The Downtown Farmers Market is being allowed to operate under a food exemption clause of the essential/life sustaining businesses order and that until such a time that operations are allowed to resume as normal — hand-crafted vendors are not allowed to participate at this time unless they pr…
In recognition of May as Motorcycle Safety Awareness Month, the Kentucky Office of Highway Safety and the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration in reminding motorists and motorcyclists to “share the road” conscientiously and courteously to help prevent crashes, injuries and deaths o…
The Hopkinsville-Christian County Imagination Library will be providing opportunities for patrons to receive free children’s books along with a reading Bingo challenge to promote literacy.
A local ophthalmologist has gone from 3D-printing nostalgic childhood games to printing life-saving PPE for Jennie Stuart Medical Center.
At Second and Virginia, on the northeast corner, there is a rambling stone structure which is familiar to all of us -- but what do we really know about it?
Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, and Mrs. Pickle picked some of her favorite pickle recipes to share with students before they head back to school.
EDITOR’S NOTE: These listings are provided by each school and include students who achieved principal’s list and honor roll for the second grading period of the school year. Contact the individual school to submit any corrections.
For some, getting involved and helping local charities means volunteering at a church fundraiser or donating items to the food pantry. For local man Jerry Allen, 34, it means riding his motorcycle.
Friday afternoon found me thinking about the cupcake I just had for lunch while listening to the voice of local historian William T. Turner. He was talking to the women of the Hopkinsville-Christian County Newcomers Club about the history of the building we were standing in.
My dad called me a few days ago and said I needed to have more jokes in my column. He then gave me a few to use if I wanted. So, because it’s my dad and I love him, here is a joke for you all:
One of the first things a couple does once they are engaged, after writing a column and putting it in the paper, of course, is to set a budget. A budget in a wedding is much like a budget in everyday life, which helps you determine what things are important, and what things you can do without.
I struggled with whether I wanted to write something about this, but I decided I’d been open with so much of my life with you all, and you all have been so supportive that it only makes sense that I would share this too.
There’s nothing quite like going home for the holidays. What we love is familiarity and being around family and friends who accept you for everything you are, even though they have known you since you were that awkward middle school child in need of a stylist.
I’ve had a long-running argument with those who complain about the commercialism that surrounds my favorite holiday. I hear, and sometimes agree with, their arguments about how the holidays have transformed into a monster of excessive spending, extravagant gift-giving and a culture of selfishness.
As I sat down to write this column, I was dressed in my warm sweat pants and a fleece hoodie and listening to “Christmas Time is Here.”
My family came to Hopkinsville to visit me for Thanksgiving, bringing my Korean cousin, Bomi, with them. She is attending Texas Christian University and this was going to be her first Thanksgiving in America. After stuffing ourselves on Thanksgiving, my sister and I waited until we could beg…
I was 4 years old when my mom dragged me and my 1-year-old sister to the polls. I, of course, was the good child and sat in a corner reading a book while my sister wrapped herself around my mother’s leg, pulling continually at her as she voted.
I do not like being scared. Not even a little. I don’t like scary movies. I don’t like haunted houses. In fact, my roommate and I watched a commercial for the newest “Paranormal Activity” movie, and I was scared — I didn’t like it.
Saturday night, I found myself on top of a thoroughbred, a former steeplechase horse, for the first time. I grew up in Texas so I know my way around a ranch or farm (sort of) and I’m not afraid of horses, but Admiral was the largest horse I’d ever been on. And he was brilliant.
I’ve often thought I didn’t have the same kind of relationship with my family that others have with theirs. Or at least compared to others who had good relationships with their families. Don’t get me wrong, I have a great relationship with my family — I love them fiercely and will utterly de…
I’m not sure how it happened, but there I was, standing on stage in a club next to my sister and a friend of mine dressed in swimsuits and smiling at a room full of strangers.
I was at dinner recently when a young woman walked into the room. She had a fabulous cream-colored pleated chiffon dress with a black belt. It was gorgeous. I had to know where she got it. Turns out it was a BCBG dress she got at a resale store.
We all know those people who like to send forwarded emails to you. Weather it’s a joke or a chain letter blackmailing you to send the email to another dozen friends or risk the consequences of certain death, that person is helpless against the luring power of the “forward” button.
Last year I wrote a column about a shooting that occurred at my church. For those who don’t know, the church I grew up in, Wedgwood Baptist Church in Fort Worth, Texas, was having a post See You at the Pole rally Sept. 15, 1999, when a man came in, found the rally and shot and killed 11 people.
It wasn’t long ago I found myself surrounded by the enemy. I could feel their eyes on me, and even if they weren’t looking right at me, I still knew I stood out in bright blue against their blood red.
It’s no secret in the New Era editorial department that my favorite Hoptown Hoppers player is someone I call “Texas.” If you guessed I was talking about number eight Brett Pirtle you would be right. Before the Hoppers first home game a program found its way to my desk. I casually flipped thr…
When it comes to patriotic holidays I feel the need, as both an Army brat and as a veteran of two wars, to remind others that the reason for these holidays is not to provide us with another day for grilling and swimming (although I do feel those are great additions to any warm-weather holida…
I wrote my column before I ever set foot in my Soap Box Derby oil can car. It was about how the most anticipated race of the derby, my race obviously, ended with an epic win. I wrote, with certainty, about my speed coming out of the gate and how my excellent soap box skills enabled me to lan…
Last year a friend of mine decided he wanted a dog. Everyone was excited, but there were a few friends who weren’t sure it was a good idea. Our friend worked during the day and went to bed early. How much time would he have to devote to a new puppy?
I learned about this other derby shortly after returning from the Kentucky Derby last month. Immediately the child in me wanted to participate, although the idea of challenging a 9-year-old in a race seemed inappropriate for my age. However, to my good fortune, I was informed there is an oil…