Libby Moore

If you have ever been sick, you know there are few remedies more effective than lying on the couch with a bowl of soup, a warm blanket and a good movie to pass the time.
This is why I spent last Tuesday evening in a cough-syrup haze watching “Smokey and the Bandit.”
My roommate later told me she entered our apartment and found me staring at the television. Apparently my expression suggested an attempt to grasp some deeply philosophical concept.
She then realized I was watching Burt Reynolds smuggle Coors beer from Texas to Georgia.

Everyone has some kind of phobia, yet no one has fears as irrational and unyielding as mine.

The problem is, I seem to be retaining the fears I thought I would grow out of. Fears of clowns, thunderstorms, the dark, and diving off the diving board were supposed to subside and be replaced with adult fears of lack of money, being alone, and general failure in life.

Unfortunately my childhood fears still exist and my adult fears have set in earlier than expected.

Cardboard moving boxes clutter the walking space of Dr. George Hamm’s south Tyler home.

A collection of Delft Blue plates keeps Dr. Hamm focused on the packing process. Since Hamm recently put his house up for sale, there are many things he must sort and wrap up.

He and his wife moved into the house in 1981 when he accepted the job as president of The University of Texas at Tyler. Hamm warmly welcomes student reporters into his home and leads them through his house and out the back door by his pool. “I’ve only been in this pool twice. I hate cleaning it.” Hamm said.

I have a challenge for you right now. Find me a teenage girl who has NOT read at least one of the four books in the bestselling Twilight series. What? You say that’s impossible? Well, for the most part, you are correct.

It wasn’t until after my friends finally persuaded me to read the series that I finally cracked open Twilight this past summer. I must say, I wasn’t very impressed.

KELLER — Dr. James H. Stewart Jr.’s  two-story brick house sits nearly secluded at the end of a dead end street. There’s a long concrete driveway leading across his acre of property that includes a duck pond diagonally to the right of the house.

The inside of the house still smells of fresh paint, and Stewart and his wife Colleen have yet to decorate the walls with personal portraits moved from their Hood County ranch to their new home in this bedroom community about 20 minutes east of Fort Worth.

FREDERICKSBURG — Just north of this Hill Country town is a dome-shaped rock formation where those with an adventurous spirit can camp, hike and climb. This batholith is the third largest of its kind in the world and is the center of a 1,600-acre state natural area — a park frequented by up to 400,000 people a year.

At least twice a week outside the R. Don Cowan Fine and Performing Arts Center a deafening rumble fills the air. It’s not thunder. It’s the University’s new performance drum line practicing to make its debut this semester.