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Today's Opinions

  • Freedom only a new bike brings

    There’s only one thing that could make me feel as free as an 8-year-old with a new bike.

    Only one thing that can recall the days of freedom, sweet freedom. Days of, who cares if I don’t have a ride to the pool or to Bryan’s house to jump on the trampoline. That’s allright, I’m mobile. I’m free to go anywhere I want in the whole world whenever I want, provided my mom lets me and it’s within five miles.

  • Letters to the editor

    Springhill traffic problems a reality

    To the editor:

  • KKK's method unfair

    Sometimes I struggle with my deep-seeded belief that everyone has the right to the freedom of speech and expression.

    That struggle intensified July 8 when the first of what would be several readers called to tell me our newspaper had been dropped in her driveway with a flier enclosed promoting the Ku Klux Klan.

  • Getting the county's financial house in order

    A year ago, a group of 20 Oldham Countians, called the vision council, delivered to us a well-thought-out document described as a roadmap for the future of Oldham County. Six months ago, fiscal court adopted that document as a guideline. But there is an oft-quoted statement (Congressman Hal Rogers may be the original author) that says, “A vision without financing is a hallucination.”

  • Letters to the editor

    HDB appreciates local support

    To the editor:

  • Common sense growth: It shouldn't be an oxymoron in Oldham

    We’re relieved this week to say the Oldham County Planning and Zoning Commission once again denied a subdivision proposal that won’t go away.

  • Letters to the editor

    Clifford is Little League jewel

    To the editor:

    Our family relocated to Kentucky in 2000 and we thank God at every opportunity for being blessed to live in such a warm and welcoming community. From the onset, the friendly people, beautiful countryside and quality of life Oldham County has to offer instantly convinced us we were home!

  • The curious life cycle of a cicada

    There we were, face to face. Nothing but a windshield between us; the final resting place for so many of her next of kin. But she was a survivor, sitting atop my windshield wiper. Was she there to pay respects to so many that saw their demise on Interstate 71, or just taking an opportunity to give me the evil eye? Oh those eyes. Those little red, wide-set eyes. Her family had emerged after seventeen years. They, Brood XIV, must have a purpose.