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It was the summer of 1975. I had recently talked my father into letting me to see Jaws. The film went on to become the first summer blockbuster buoyed by the boom in mall-based movie theaters. My elementary school buddies were all abuzz about this film. We were all worried about shark attacks. 

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Over the course of many years working in close partnership with Culpeper County Public Schools I have made many friendships within the hardworking custodial staff in six elementary schools, two middle schools and two high schools. As a reporter, sportswriter, parks and recreation coordinator…

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As the coolness of morning makes its daily retreat into heat and humidity there are a couple magical hours when fish are active and on the move. 

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Over the last two months a pandemic has tested our will and wits. We search for the best ways to overcome the COVID-19 virus — a most complex, invisible and adaptive foe. 

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The most disconcerting aspect of this ongoing COVID-19 pandemic can be condensed to a single word uncertainty. Each day we see a grim tally, national statistics that rise and fall, local numbers and lots of conflicting information. When will it subside? When can we reboot our economy both na…

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Editor's Note: Vincent "Vince" Vala, who worked 30 years as a photographer and writer for the Culpeper Star-Exponent and Culpeper News, died Tuesday of pneumonia at his home in Culpeper. Vala, who was also a local musician, was 57.

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There is something about the smell of it that brings me hope and comfort. It helps to fire the imagination with scenes of somewhere south of here, a place where I can feel the humidity, hear the music and smell centuries worth of sins and parties drifting in the air.

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A gentleman with a microphone announced our entrance into a large meeting room converted into a magical dance hall.  He unrolled a scroll and proclaimed, “I present Princess Christiana and her Knight Sir Marshall.” A little hand squeezed my thumb—just like she did the first day I first met h…

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Amid a Sunday homily focused on the appreciation of the totality of a decorated Christmas tree my parish priest asked the congregation to consider the often-overlooked feature that keeps our beautiful trees standing. 

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There are good crowds and there are bad crowds in our lives. I stood amid a great one. On a breezy cold morning I stood alongside veteran bikers, Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, Gold Star mothers, church volunteers and families.  

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Deep inside my brawny Scottish-American chest beats a soulful Latin heart—this was what I was feeling in the afterglow of the Washington Nationals’ World Series victory last Wednesday night.

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So, it is election time once again. Wait, doesn’t it seem like we’ve all been in a perpetual election for the last three years? Remember when elections happened and then people went back to being normal? 

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Recent news and debates about climate change spawned a few thoughts. I’m an independent thinker politically—a strange creature in today’s polarized world. Let me add that people have tried to pin me to a political philosophy and failed miserably. I like it better that way.

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A traffic cone, an orange plastic totem of man’s desire for a more controlled world stands in mute witness to the parking follies of mankind. It bears the scars of wheels and weather.   

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Fatherhood is like making jambalaya—it needs quality ingredients, patience, love, timing and a high-quality roux. Hot sauce should be used just enough to enhance the final product.

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The English poet John Maxwell Edmonds is credited with the authorship of this famous inscription that nobly defines the lost dreams of any fallen warrior:

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It was somewhere south of Virginia when the memories kicked in and nautical twilight crept in like a night light at the end of a dark hallway. It was the time of morning when the road is populated by sleepy truckers, travelers and blue-collar types heading in to work.  

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There is something about the motions of fly fishing that calm and heal the mind.  I have experienced this power in various degrees in my life---it can erase the stress of a thousand workdays, the loss of a family member or the stress of deadlines.

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