Julie Driscoll: Kids yucked it up, snickered and giggled and guffawed and made light of this young woman’s violation, all while Ms. Parsons’ life, full of misery and pain and despair, was ultimately too much to bear – and she ended it.
Georgianne Nienaber: As she knelt with her back to the writer, the Grandmother stopped the smoothing, stopped the straightening, and grew very quiet. Her shoulders began to heave and it was obvious she was wracked with sobs. The task was hopeless and the Creole cries were soft at first and then became a wail. Not knowing what else to do, the writer sat down in the water and touched the back of the elegant Grandmother.
Rather than enshrine him in a giant marble bust to sit alongside Henry Clay’s, as some have suggested, this is their time to follow in the footsteps Everett Dirksen trod in 1964 and yield to an idea whose time has come, and to build a far greater monument to the legacy of their fallen friend. It’s what Ted would want.
Every Friday the LA Progressive features a comment that was particularly noteworthy. This week we are featuring a comment submitted by Craig commenting on Lorraine Payette’s The Poor You Shall Have with You Always.” Here’s Craig’s comment: Poor has become a MBA major now. You can learn how to charge the unisured double what insured [...]