I’m back at The Evening Sun and I’m glad to again rub elbows with so many I have come to respect. I can’t honestly say I’ve always played a large role in my local community and certainly the largest impact I’ve made has been through my work at the newspaper.

Last Friday, I answered a call in Oxford over the horrific motorcycle crash involving the Sherburne-Earlville principal. Although the accident took place in Oxford, the traffic was lining up outside of my South Broad Street apartment. Even on a Friday night, that’s a difficult thing to ignore. I got my gear together, camera, pen, paper, and traveled over West Hill into the region of the county that usually only the local people can navigate successfully – the back roads.

I remember being fairly concerned when I left because one of the dispatchers incorrectly called county Rt. 4, Turner Street, instead of Georgetown Road. Not a big deal unless you’re from Oxford and your grandparents live on Turner. On top of that, my parents work over at the Veterans’ Home in Oxford and the second accident called in that day was just down the road at the same time they’d be leaving work at one of the most hazardous intersections in Oxford – where 35 (old 220) and East River Road meet. I’ve seen people come flying down that hill like a meteorite.