Author: Jimmy Reed

The class was discussing argumentation, and I mentioned that bias is often encountered when trying to persuade others to accept one's point of view. "Are bias and prejudice the same thing?" a student asked. Caught off guard, I read the … Read more

I first looked at page 186 over a half-century ago; now it's my computer's screen saver. For my tenth birthday, Mama gave me a small black Bible and said, "Son, wherever you go, take it with you, and when you're alone, troubled, afraid, … Read more

I was thinking about Little Mama the other day — about the time she got lost. It was a Sunday morning in May, and my daughters wanted to play awhile before getting ready for church. They headed straight to the chicken yard to visit … Read more

Slow down! That was my New Year's resolution. As Wordsworth would say, "The world is too much with us." Even as I slide down the slippery, senescent, sixth-decade slope of life, I still scurry sunup to sundown, as if I … Read more

As always, I started walking when the sun first lightened the horizon. This daily routine provides time to meditate and to recite poetry. A favourite quotation from Lorraine Hansberry's play, A Raisin In The Sun, came to mind: Child, when … Read more

It was four o'clock in the morning on a moonless, muggy night — just the way I wanted it. With 240 pounds of bulging blubber and mushy muscles on a five-foot, eleven-inch frame, I wanted no one to see me … Read more

During ginning season, one-eyed Deacon hauled cotton seed to the oil mill. Between trips, he helped me with my after-school and weekend chore — hammering together metal ties and buckles used to bind bales of cotton. I liked the old … Read more

How Anna loved finding coins! She would show me each one and then race off again, zigzagging, pigtails swishing, searching the sidewalk. It was our Saturday morning ritual. We strolled around town, window-shopped, and rested in front of the coffee … Read more

"Son, why didn't you sing today?" Mama asked. "You love singing carols." She was right. I knew them by heart, having listened to her Bing Crosby, Dean Martin, and Nat King Cole Christmas albums over and over again. There are … Read more

"But, dad, we ginned cotton straight through the Thanksgiving holidays," I moaned. "Can't we at least get off a few days for Christmas?" "Son, we finished early last year, and you hunted all winter," he answered. "Be thankful for that. … Read more