Advice from a Small Town Girl

I have to confess that I can hardly wait for November to be over. I know that the end of November means we are ever closer to the cold and dark of winter, but I don't care.

Because if I see one more documentary about the assassination of John F. Kenney, I will scream.

Like nearly everyone else over the age of 50, I remember exactly where I was on November 22, 1963.

I was sitting in the combined 3rd and 4th grade classroom in Bickleton, where we were using the school's television to watch something educational. For the life of me, I can't remember what it was. All I know is that it can't have b...