Jean Bell Mosley
NewsApril 8, 2007
'All Who'er Out': An Easter storyEveryone in our small village observed all the traditions and rituals of Holy Week. There were school recitations, hot cross buns, great bouquets of lilies, church dramas, songs, music and pantomimes. Each year I learned a little more: how Simon carried the cross, ...FeaturesJuly 6, 2003
Reading the language of jacketsMy little, midsized and larger helpers here at the R&R spread flit in and out of my room as silent as butterflies. If I didn't have my eyes open, the only way I could tell they'd come in is by a slight passing breeze. But I like to have my eyes wide open so I can s...FeaturesJune 29, 2003
The scholar and the sage with a biscuitEvery family or extended family has its scholar. This is not by election or appointment. It is by conscientious appraisal and acceptance by all others. Next to her dad, granddaughter Lauren is that person in our family. Ever since her rendition, explanation and ins...FeaturesJune 22, 2003
Newcomer likes one-two dance stepVictoria Marie Collom made her way into our war-weary world May 3, 2002, daughter of Ellie and Glenn Collom and granddaughter of Viney Mosley, that dedicated destroyer of darkdom. I think there is no such word as darkdom, but it sounds dreary, doesn't it? And Viney...FeaturesJune 15, 2003
Queasy stomachs bewareIt was the noon hour break at our eighth-grade, one-room schoolhouse. A few of us were still standing in a semicircle around Yearbo Job Teateser listening to him tell about his family. According to Yearbo, all of his family, including two babies, came from the Old ...FeaturesJune 8, 2003
Who will pay $50 for your rags?Editor's note: This column originally was published June 9, 1991. Rip, rip, rip! That's the sound of tearing cloth. I'm the tearer. Jean the Ripper! No kin to Jack. This is not an old biblical tearing of cloth at some outrage, sorrow or sin. It is a sort of coming ...FeaturesJune 1, 2003
Three kinds of ladders to climbWhen one is young and full of idealism, there is no reason for anything that smacks of the trite. Everything is bright and new and shiny. So it is with the high school graduating classes this year. When I reflected upon my class motto, "We build the ladder by which...FeaturesMay 25, 2003
The day I thought I was prettyIt was Sunday morning, late in June. I was 12 years old, walking along a woodland path to neighbor Freemon's home to catch a ride to Sunday school. A wood thrush was flying in the leafy ceiling above me, sounding its inimitable golden notes as if to guide me along ...FeaturesMay 18, 2003
Magical power of booksMy books! My precious books. I would like to hug every one of them and once again thank all the authors and publishers for their life-enhancing qualities and the ability they have given me, through character identification, to live life on multiple levels...Advertisement
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