When I returned to college back in 2017 to pursue my studies in elementary education, there was one aspect of college that really stood out from my perspective. It involved the number of times when my fellow classmates and I dedicated time to help one another in addition to working together to complete a myriad of assignments we turned in each semester.

This perspective took foot as I started the first of two English composition classes held at the Boise State University annex at Mountain Home Air Force Base. I dedicated my 32 years of journalistic writing to review the various papers others in the class started to create as a way to give them an “extra set of eyes” to catch typos and punctuation errors.

One aspect of my time in the Air Force involved something that tends to remain “off the radar” with regards to the rest of society. It involves the nicknames those in uniform tend to adopt following something that happened to them during their years of service.

Better known as “call signs,” it’s something those in uniform get “bestowed” upon them by their peers for doing something very cool they did. However, sometimes these folks end up with these titles after they get caught doing something, to put it bluntly, very stupid or embarrassing.

There are times where I wish I could’ve bet some money on what was going to happen in this nation. Clearly, I would’ve pocketed a considerable amount of spare change had I placed my bets on what we’ve seen over the past several weeks with regards to the change in the nation’s leadership.

Based on what happened so far this month, I would’ve clearly won enough money to buy something very expensive these days – a dozen eggs at one of our local supermarkets.

I walked into the store that evening, and my attention was drawn to the young woman standing at the register — an outgoing individual with deep, soulful eyes surrounded by long, curly, blonde hair. She flashed me a smile and extended a friendly “hello” as I passed by. I returned the courtesy with a smile as well.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I had just met the woman that I would marry less than a year later.

The one thing about my children when they were younger was the fact I could always tell when something was wrong. So when my youngest daughter suddenly threw on a jacket and a pair of shoes and ran out the front door one memorable afternoon, I knew something was bothering her.

Unable to see where she went, I grabbed my own winter jacket and shoes and quickly followed. Huddled just out of sight below the living room window, she was trying to comfort a cat that was meowing hysterically.

As Thomas Wolfe’s famed book clearly states, you can’t go home again. Granted, when he wrote that novel back in the early days of the 20th century, he illustrated how American society had changed so drastically between the economic prosperity of the Roaring ‘20s and the subsequent disaster that followed during the Great Depression.

Today, however, we can see similar parallels in how our society has changed and not for the better, either. One of the greatest disasters that is now plaguing our great nation is the epidemic of people addicted to narcotics, especially heroin and methamphetamine.

Having spent nearly 33 years of my life as a newspaper reporter and editor in various communities, I’ve seen firsthand many things others in today’s society never face.

On one hand, I saw positive instances in which people took time to help one another. This included one in which a brother helped save his older sister’s life as she battled a rare but potentially fatal medical condition most of her life.

Sometimes, I end up discovering things in ways I never saw coming. While some of those discoveries leave me feeling either happy or sad, there were other moments in my life where I found myself caught completely off guard as I started looking deeper into what I had discovered.

The most recent happened just a few days ago when I took time to stop by the Church of the Nazarene to talk to folks preparing to showcase various songs they planned to sing during the “Music the American Way” concert.

When my family and I moved to Mountain Home back in 2006 after I received orders to serve at the local Air Force base, the one thing that seemed to annoy me involved the naysayers in this community who repeatedly shouted there was nothing to do in this town. I lost count how many times I saw them spread this message on social media and other online resources.

Granted, these were the same naysayers who refused to do anything to change this perception. Not once did I ever see them show up at city council meetings or take time to participate in the various community events this town celebrates each year.

Is the glass half full, or is the glass half empty?

How many times have we heard this question in our lives?

It seems the news headlines over the past few days continue to completely catch me off guard. The latest came Jan. 8 when the first reports came in regarding range fires that directly threatened a number of communities in southern California.

At first, I remained cautiously optimistic these fires would not cause a huge number of problems. After all, Mountain Home and communities across southern Idaho deal with these range fires each summer in what I typically refer to as “Idaho’s fifth season.”

Friday marks the 35th anniversary of a milestone in U.S. history that may end up going unnoticed in many communities across the United States. On Jan. 17, 1990, U.S. and coalition forces launched their first sorties against Iraqi forces during Operation Desert Storm.

Those of us serving in the military still remember that memorable evening quite vividly. I was the editor of the base newspaper at Malmstrom Air Force Base, Mont., and had just returned from the publishers after putting the publication to “bed” that evening.

It’s often said that a photo speaks a thousand words. In my years as a photojournalist, I’ve found that some photos often speak a lot more.

One photo in particular served as a lesson in ethics whenever I trained a new staff writer. Contained in that black and white print was an older woman being comforted by a firefighter as the woman’s granddaughter clung to her leg crying.

The presentation during the city council meeting last month definitely opened my eyes with regards to how serious the problem was regarding the number of stray and abandoned dogs, cats and other pets in the local area. I felt very upset knowing we have so many people who simply kicked their pets out of their home versus finding ways to deal with the challenges that led up to those actions.

While I’m not much of a gambler, I’d likely wage good money that one reason why we have so many feral and stray pets wandering through town may involve the number of airmen stationed at Mountain Home Air Force Base. During my military career, I saw many of these military families abandon these animals versus finding ways to either find them new homes to live or to simply bring them along to their next duty station.

“Merry Christmas.”

When I was a child, those two words were something I enjoyed hearing as the season of generosity approached. It filled me with a sense of sheer excitement as I waited for Dec. 25 to arrive, which grew stronger every time I heard a Christmas carol or I watched one of my beloved Christmas specials on the family’s TV set.

In early December, outgoing President Joe Biden took action to essentially forgive his own son for a series of federal crimes he personally committed or took part in committing over the past 10 years. However, instead of holding his own son accountable for his actions, the president chose to give Hunter Biden a full pardon before he leaves office on Jan. 20.

The crimes Hunter was charged with were something that deserve mention here. For example, in 2018, he lied about his addiction to drugs while he bought a gun, which included lying on a federal screening form with regards to his drug addiction.

Originally, I planned this week’s editorial to serve as a ray of hope or beacon of sunshine to help people get into the holiday spirit — a time of giving and helping others. After all, I tend to be someone who enjoys smiling and laughing in hopes my joy and quirky sense of humor spreads to others and makes their lives better, even if it’s just for a little while.

But after dealing with some of the heartbreaking news in recent months involving teenagers in the Mountain Home community who could no longer deal with the pain they faced from those who repeatedly bullied them, I felt I needed to change directions. I wanted to share with all of you something I don’t normally like to talk about — a dark day that nearly claimed the life of one of my dear childhood friends.

I have to admit that I’m one of the worst Christmas shoppers in my family. I’m one of those you probably read about in the news headlines — the one person who seemingly waits until the last minute to do their shopping.

But in all honesty, I tend to wait until the last minute because I keep convincing myself that I’ll start my shopping “tomorrow,” which then becomes “this weekend” and then “next week.” Before I know it, I find myself trapped in the Christmas carnage in hopes of finding something appropriate to put under the tree.

It was something I saw every week as I drove to work. I watched as dozens of people started to line up and wait outside the doors of the El-Ada Community Action Agency. There were times I saw the line had already stretched around the corner into the nearby alley.

While El-Ada opened its doors at its new location off American Legion Boulevard, I couldn’t help but remember this same routine repeated over and over each week when the agency was located at Stardust Plaza. They represented groups of people that wait for hours for the basic necessities many of us in Mountain Home often take for granted.

People who know me best understand that, for the most part, I’m a fairly easy going individual. With a few exceptions, it takes quite a bit for something to get under my skin, so to speak.

Over the past few months, however, I’ve just about had it with some people in this town who think the law applies to everyone but themselves. Part of the problem involves music.

With everything that’s happened in today’s society these past few years, I simply sat back and continued to shake my head in disbelief at everything I heard and saw when it came to how our elected officials and others with a sense of power act when it comes to certain issues. Instead of people acting civil to one another, all I see are members of society coming unglued and lashing out at those they disagree with.

Many times, it seems these people are reaching the point where they want to severely punish those with opposing beliefs versus doing the smart thing and simply taking time to calmly sit and talk. In Idaho, for example, we had people vandalizing political signs from those with opposing political stances when it came to Proposition 1 that dealt with rank-based voting.

While it might be a bit premature since I had to write this after this week’s newspaper went to press Monday evening before the votes were counted Tuesday evening, I’d like to extend my personal congratulations to many of the candidates who earned a vote of confidence from local voters.

In addition to selecting who they wanted to serve as their next president, voters in Mountain Home and surrounding communities were offered plenty of choices this year with regards to the contenders running for seats in the U.S. and state legislatures, each of them promising to make things better for those who live here.

Those who know me understand my lifelong passion for looking to the stars and the myriad of celestial wonders hidden within the nighttime skies.

A lot of that began when I was just eight years old. Music featuring Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons started to play on the living room stereo as I opened up my dad’s world almanac to the pages containing the map of the known solar system that also featured black and white photos taken of the planets just within visual range of the telescopes focusing on them.

As the community came together last week to promote the You Are More message to children and teens, it seemed the message continues to take root on a whole new level. It’s a message I heard regularly during my years with the Mountain Home News.

While I invested my time to provide coverage of various events promoting the need to stop bullying, there were some I connected with on a very personal level. One of them figuratively punched me in the gut about 10 years ago as I covered an event at Mountain Home Junior High School.

There were moments in my life when I seriously thought the whole world had lost its mind. Every day, we see instances where people acted irresponsibly and refused to take responsibility for their actions that harm others.

One of the most irresponsible things I’ve dealt with in recent years involves an ongoing push for this nation to accept something known as Diversity, Equity and Inclusion, or DEI for short. Depending on who you speak to, it seems this mandate has two opposing perspectives.

As Domestic Violence Awareness Month continued over the past several days, it seemed that memories of my past resurfaced to the point where I wanted to express how this type of violence affected me in ways I never expected. I felt I should also mention this type of physical, mental and emotional abuse was something I’m thankful I never faced during my childhood.

As my brother and I grew up, we always looked to our mother and father as the parents who served as role models and provided us with the help and love when we needed it.

With all the news reports getting people in our community a bit aggravated and frustrated, I felt I needed to take time and reflect on something a bit more optimistic.

It involves one of my childhood dreams that continues to lift me toward the stars. It seemed to take root when I was just three years old as Neil Armstrong became the first human being to stand on the surface of the Moon.

I must admit I’ve pretty much fed up with everything I’ve read and heard over the past several months. I’ve honestly lost count of how many times I caught myself rolling my eyes after reading all the news headlines, most of which seemed to promote a politically biased perspective on something that didn’t seem right.

It deals with the ongoing plans for the federal government wanting to continue stepping in and help college students pay off their student loans.

When I was considerably younger, I tended to consider myself as someone who never forgot to follow the rules, although there were times I did things that got me into a little bit of trouble now and then. Out of those, I had some rare moments where I wonder how I managed to avoid getting killed in the process.

One of the most memorable happened while I was a young airman stationed at Eielson Air Force Base, located in the heart of interior Alaska. When I first arrived there, I was warned multiple times that once you left the confines of the installation, you were essentially part of the “food chain.”

“Where were you when...?”

It seems that every generation has a variation of that sentence. The end of that question normally mentions a significant moment in history.

A 64-year tradition unofficially begins today as the Mountain Home community comes together to showcase its support for the men and women of the armed forces.

Air Force Appreciation Day, or AFAD for short, is a celebration whose reputation extends well beyond Elmore County and even our state. In fact, a number of military members learn about it immediately after they get orders to Mountain Home Air Force Base.

“What is the purpose of a newspaper?”

It seemed like a very simple question to answer as I prepared for my first day of class along with my fellow students. All of us had been in the profession for at least a couple of years, and the program in advanced photojournalism seemed like it was going to be a cakewalk -- or so we thought.

I must admit I felt a bit anxious when I started work on this week’s edition of the Mountain Home News. With so many things that happened in town the previous week, I simply wondered if we would end up dealing with a slow news week in which I had to dig through various news resources to find something… anything… that felt newsworthy.

That’s when I received notification regarding an e-mail sent to my office from Robynn Schipani, the principal at Stephensen Elementary School. I was among the first in this community to learn the school became Idaho’s first Purple Star School. That title goes to schools whose teachers and staff members go the extra mile to help the students of military families make easier, more successful transitions when they move into our community as well as when their families prepare to leave here for their next duty assignment.

Hate still exists.

It’s a message that representatives with the Center for Human Rights in Boise stressed during a presentation I saw at the Anne Frank Memorial several years ago. It was one of many messages officials with this human rights’ organization stressed while my college friends and I took part in a program during one of our classes at Boise State University.

An age-old tradition begins Monday morning as thousands of children and teens in the Mountain Home area return to the classroom for their first day of the new academic year. This includes those in the Mountain Home School District as well as students taking classes in the Richard McKenna charter school district.

I would be remiss if I forgot to include the thousands of students returning to classes in the Glenns Ferry and Bruneau-Grand View school districts on Aug. 19.

Every day, my computer gets flooded with messages sent by various people and organizations across Idaho and our nation regarding a myriad of topics that potentially affect those of us in the Mountain Home community. While most of those messages end up in the digital trash can, some of them grab my attention quite unexpectedly.

The latest example happened last week when I received a message from one of the city councilman in Nampa. Granted, Nampa is nearly 60 miles away, but my eyes focused on what this person planned on doing.

Saturday, July 13, an assassination attempt was carried out, and President Trump was shot. All glory to God that he is alive and well after this incident. Sadly, one innocent bystander in the crowd died as a result, and others were critically wounded.

Hearing President Trump had been shot, I remembered when President Reagan was shot in March 1981. I remember exactly where and what I was doing: The entire country and the world stood still in horror that such an event had occurred.

I knew it was only a matter of time before it happened. I guess I was too much of an optimist on how fast it happened.

I refer to a news story involving a comment posted to social media shortly after the news broke regarding the attempted assassination of former president Donald Trump. Simply put, officials with the Sioux Falls School District in South Dakota fired a behavior facilitator staff member at its middle school.

Those who know me best understand I tend to get a bit on edge around this time of year. I know it’s just a matter of time when I get the call — the one that has me dropping everything and scrambling out the door with my camera in hand.

It didn’t help when the police scanner next to my desk set off the single tone that startled me. Every time I hear it, I grab a pen and piece of paper and start jotting down what’s happening because that one, continuous tone means we have a possible fire. The question is where.