It's been many years since I took a "real" vacation. I've taken a few days, here and there, and have gone to the beach or Disney World, but it has been several years since I took off for a whole week. Two weeks ago, however, we took our "summer vacation."

My oldest brother, Harvey, now lives in Maine. He and his family moved up there about a year ago, where he works as a P.A. (Physician's Assistant) and Janice (my sister-in-law) is an RN at the local hospital.

So, off we went to Maine, for eight days. What an experience that was. I learned several things about Maine; it is beautiful up there, the weather is much cooler, they talk funny, Southern Hospitality is not as wide-spread as it is in the south, it was a lot harder than I thought it would be to eat fish and/or eggs without grits, and the sun comes up at 4:00 am in the summertime.

We had a wonderful time visiting with the family, sightseeing, white-water rafting (in water that was 50 degrees), and shopping, of course.

When I was a 14 year old, Harvey joined the Navy. For the next six years I would go visit Harvey, wherever he lived at the time, for a month during each summer. Illinois, Orlando, Idaho (he was stationed there for three years) and Hawaii were my vacation spots while staying with him. So, I guess it was only fitting that I should follow him to Maine, also. However, with "old" age comes responsibility, and I was not able to move in for a month, this time. But I sure wish I could have.

It is good to be back in the South again, though. I love hot weather, and am cold with anything under 70 degrees. Needless to say, I kept a jacket on during most of my trip up there. I'm sure it was obvious to everyone that I was a tourist, walking around in jeans/sweat pants and a jacket, while they were all wearing shorts and enjoying their "warm" weather. Funny how things work out. Now that I'm back in Florida, they are having their "heat wave" with temperatures in the mid to upper 80's.

I took them a box of grits and two bottles of hot pepper sauce to leave at their house. I brought back with me Amish jelly, tons of pictures, a lot of Maine souvenirs, and great memories.

It's always great to go on vacations, but it is also great to come back home. And, I truly love living in the South. I love my warm/hot weather, my sweet tea, and my grits. I love the fact that my children say "Yes ma'am" and "No ma'am" and the fact of how much more respectful that sounds instead of just "yes" or "yea."

We're back home now, and back to the 'ole grinding-stone. The staff, at both newspaper offices, assured me they could handle the papers while we were gone, and they did. They showed me that everything can run smoothly without me here, after all. (Maybe next year I can try for that month.)

Until then, I'll see you around the town.

This Sunday, August 15, 2010, is a special day in our families' lives.

The patriarch of our family, William Buford Selman, Sr., will turn a "young" 100 years old.

Not many people live long enough to turn 100, and many of those who do are not still in their right minds to know the significance of such a feat, and many do not realize the unusualness of such a birthday, but, our Dad does.

Dad was born in Armuchee, Ga. on August 15, 1910, to Jonah and Lottie Selman. He was the oldest son of the family of six children. The only other remaining living sibling in his family is his brother, Gordon, who also is a resident of Madison. Dad's mother was a music teacher and homemaker, and his father was a rural mail carrier. In the small community of Armuchee, Ga., everyone knew everyone else, and it was a fun place for us, as children, to visit our kin that we saw about once a year.

In Dad's immediate family was Jessie, the oldest child, and the only girl of the family. She has passed away. She and her husband, Cyril, owned a restaurant in Armuchee, and we always enjoyed going to vist them and eating in their place of business. They had three children of their own, Joyce, Ronald, and C.C. I can remember going to visit and playing with our cousins. What fun we always had with the Lynch family!

The second-born child of the Selman family was our father, William Buford Selman. He finished high school in Armuchee after skipping several grades along the way for his scholastic excellence.

He later worked in repairs for a telephone exchange company with Southern Bell. During the Depression, he worked for the Georgia Agriculture Dept. inspecting cotton. This is how he came to Madison. He worked with the Ag. Dept. for three years as a statistician in the United States Cotton Service. He later worked with the Van H. Priest Co. as their head bookkeeper for their 16 stores in Florida and Georgia. The company was, of course, based in Madison. Their office was located in the building still standing at Lake Francis to the left of the Madison Woman's Club building. It was known as the "Van H. Priest Warehouse." After meeting my mother, Berta Lucile Green, who worked for the Van H. Priest Co. also, they dated for a little time, and they decided to get married.

Mother was working at the Priest Dime Store in downtown Madison, and after marrying Dad, they branched out on their own and opened Lucile's Dress Shop next door to the Priest Dime Store. They ran the dress shop for 60 years, until it burned when downtown Madison caught fire in 1997. Dad simply said at the time that it was the Lord's way of saying, "Buford, it's time to take Lucile, (who had developed Parkinson's Disease), and go home, and he did. Mother died at age 83.

Third in line of my dad's family was Uncle Roy Selman, who was a real estate investor, and, who also owned a lumber yard, andl sawmill business. Roy was a county commissioner for Floyd County, Ga., for many years. Roy is also deceased, and his wife, Irene, passed away in 2005. Their daughter, Linda, still resides in Georgia with her family. The fourth child was Uncle Gordon Selman of Madison. He is married to Hettie and they had two children, Martha and Don, who still live here. The fifth child was Uncle Clyde, who was the vice-president of the 1st National Bank of Rome, Ga. He and his wife, Jeanette, had two boys. The baby of the family was Uncle James, a carpenter, also deceased. He had one daughter, Janice.

Our family feels blessed to have had Dad as our patriarch these many, many years. We wish a happy 100th birthday to the best dad in the World.

Happy, Happy Birthday, Daddy! May you have 100 more wonderful years.Thank you, Dad, for all you have meant to me and your family, and still are, and for being our "guiding light" these many, many years.

I always remember my great-grandmother sitting in a rocking chair. It was no different the day that I was four years old when I told her, "Maw Maw, I don't like to work."

Mamie Linton, whose life had been hard and who had worked hard and whose faced was lined with the wisdom of the ages, did not get upset with me. Instead, she carefully considered what I had said, took these words to heart and imparted the following sage advice, "Get an education. Go to college and get an office job so you won't have to work."

My great-grandmother's advice sounded good to me, so when I started school, I began working toward my college education. My family did not have any money, other than to provide the basic necessities of life, but that did not matter to me. Somehow, some way, I would go to college because Maw Maw had told me to.

When I was in second grade, I read a book about John F. Kennedy and decided that I wanted to be President. It did not matter that his family had millions more dollars than my family because I had also read a book about a boy born in a log cabin who became President. Abraham Lincoln did not have the benefit of an education, like I would eventually get. Plus, I was also born in a hospital, which was another advantage over Abe.

After reading a book on Eisenhower, I decided that I wanted to go to one of the U.S. military academies, but as I grew older, my priorities shifted. I decided that I wanted to be a writer and a journalist. I would continue to pursue the brass ring and work toward that college diploma.

After graduating from Jefferson County High School, I entered North Florida Junior College instead of a military academy. My parents still had no money to pay for my education, but I paid for it through Pell grants, a partial scholarship because of my academic standing in high school and Florida student assistant grants.

Student loans helped pay for most of my college at Florida State University. It took me years to repay them, but I repaid every red cent of the loans. I also did work study while there to help defray costs. My final semester of the university, as I worked on a Directed Individual Study (DIS) class to get my final credit hour to graduate, I paid all expenses, which were minimal, out of my pocket.

My parents did help me pay for my education during this time, by helping provide my food, my clothing, my gas, and, for one semester, my housing at an apartment in Tallahassee.

As I look back now, I realize that my great-grandmother was wrong about not having to work. As I think about it, I do recall seeing a twinkle in her eye when she told me that. I work in an office and, believe me, it's hard work a lot of the time.

I thank God that He has given us work and that He and Mamie Linton put it in me to crash through that wall and get a college education.

Last weekend marked the fifth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina's landfall along the Gulf Coast. There was plenty of news coverage, but I think much of it missed the essential truths that marked this natural disaster. Because of that, I'll take my turn at describing the important lessons that Katrina (should have) taught us.

As a native Floridian, I have been studying hurricanes for as long as I can remember, or at least the age of 12 in 1960 when Donna arrived on our doorstep. Since our peninsula sticks into the ocean like a sore thumb, we are particularly prone to hurricanes.

The first lesson is this: of the two effects of a hurricane — wind and water, while both cause tremendous damage, most of the deaths come from water. There were about 1800 deaths from Katrina, and nearly all of them were caused by drowning. If you live in a flood prone area, you had better have an escape route planned (and executed) well in advance. When you see the water begin to rise, it's far too late.

While New Orleans got most of the attention after the storm passed, it's important to remember that initially, the Crescent City was spared. Katrina roared ashore in Mississippi, crushing the Gulfport-Biloxi beaches with a 25 foot storm surge – in essence, a tidal wave. New Orleans was flooded when the generally safe (western) backside of the storm pushed Lake Pontchartrain into the levees which failed under the pressure. Without this aftereffect, New Orleans would have never been the story.

Government failed, particularly in Louisiana. Both the city of New Orleans and the state failed miserably in preparing for the storm or reacting to its aftermath. When the Feds finally stepped into the breach caused by failure of the local government, they caught nearly all of the blame. Compare and contrast local government response in neighboring Mississippi and Alabama which was far more effective than in Louisiana.

I cannot emphasize enough the importance of preparing for a storm like this. The levees and pumps around New Orleans were poorly maintained; it is no surprise that they failed or that the failure led to catastrophic damage. The local storm preparation plans in South Louisiana were abysmal. Every year when I was assigned to Eglin Air Force Base in the panhandle, we exercised our hurricane plan at least once, learning from our mistakes and improving the plan. When I was assigned to Edwards in Southern California, we always exercised our earthquake plan. The officials in New Orleans were clueless because they never practiced for the worst case.

An important lesson has to do with individual preparation. If you are expecting that government will step in to the rescue, you're setting yourself up for failure ... and possibly worse. Every hurricane plan I've ever seen says that you need to be prepared to fend for yourself for at least three days – water, food, gas, cash, medicine, power etc. Katrina demonstrated that tens of thousand of people were not prepared for what happened and suffered the consequences. Some people, including the young, elderly and sick, cannot do this and special preparation must be made on their behalf. For the last three years of her life, my Mother lived in a retirement home near Jacksonville Beach. The retirement home had a plan and Mom shared with us her individual evacuation plan.

Now for my last point: New Orleans is a terrible location to build a great city. I remember my first visit as a teenager. I stood just south of Jackson Square looking at the river levee and realized that the water level in the Mississippi was over my head; it made a powerful impression on me. News reports say that only a fifth of the more than five thousand homes in the flooded Ninth Ward have been rebuilt after five years. Frankly, I doubt if many more will be reconstructed. Who would loan the money; who would insure the loan?

The Army Corps of Engineers claim that the new "great wall of New Orleans" will prevent a recurrence of the breached 17th Street Canal, but I don't think many people or financial institutions are convinced. A flood wall is only as secure as its foundation. In a city where all burials are above ground, who trusts any foundation that is below sea level?

Both the city of New Orleans and Louisiana have replaced their leaders since Katrina exposed their predecessors. Judging from the recent oil spill, the governor is far more competent. We'll have to see how the new mayor handles the pressure when the next storm takes aim at the Crescent City. In the meantime, he had better be exercising the evacuation plan.