In a week or so, state Sen. Todd Gardenhire plans to introduce legislation that will take some political bravery.
Several weeks ago after church, I met a woman who told me a story about growing up in Chattanooga.
On a cold evening last week, about 50 of us — in coats and scarves, some strangers, some not — gathered in Franklin and Tresa McCallie's Read Avenue home to talk about the one thing we don't ever talk about.
I got my wife a card. It cost $2.95 at the grocery store and has a picture of two cats cuddling by the fire. The inside reads: "Thoughts of you make me feel warm and fuzzy all over."
It's been 10 days since Philip Seymour Hoffman, possibly our era's finest actor, was found dead and alone in his apartment, a needle in his arm.
It was hard to tell which was the more unbelievable.
Things in Sochi seem to be going well.
Earlier this week, I wrote about the hyper-punitive charges against Jimmy Gaines, the 25-year-old with a heart of gold who now faces felony jail time for 50 words of frustration.
It took 24 days to get to this point. We could have biked from here to the Grand Canyon.
A pair of juveniles have been charged for their role in a Jan. 11 incident on Raccoon Mountain involving a bicyclist that caused an uproar locally and within the national cycling community.
The long arm of the law wants to lock Jimmy Gaines in jail. He'd become a felon, stuck behind bars for three years or longer.
Lord have mercy, these aren't snake-handling churches.
The phone rang as I was crossing the street. A very driveable, ice-free street, I might add.
Holy ham hock, what a body.
For two weeks, the Marion County, Tenn., detective has been investigating the events of Jan. 11, which left Anders Swanson stumbling half-blind in his bike cleats and Lycra, fumbling for the emergency button on his cell as his face burned like fire and his eyes swelled shut atop Raccoon Mountain.
The American Bible Society just named Chattanooga the most Bible-minded city in America.
Megan Rice is a Catholic nun who turns 84 in a week. So committed to nonviolence, she wouldn't harm an attack dog, even if it was attacking her. From her jail cell, she writes letters in partial cursive that talk about the immeasurable love of God.
As we pass the time waiting and watching to see if Marion County authorities will charge and arrest the teenagers who confessed to harassing and assaulting a Raccoon Mountain cyclist 11 days ago -- we're still investigating, a detective said earlier this week -- let's talk about another crime.
Last year, there was a shooting near The Howard School.
Man, cyclists tell some crazy stories. They're almost like ... war stories.
Anders Swanson read the Chattanooga police incident report on Thursday afternoon.
The American animal industry is scared.
As he was clutching his throat and gasping for breath, hoping to God he wasn't dying, Anders Swanson thought things couldn't get much worse.
A new season of rec league basketball started Saturday for kids in our neighborhood.
You understand, Captain, that this mission does not exist, nor will it ever exist. — "Apocalypse Now"
It sounds so promising — video visitation for Hamilton County Jail inmates.
LaToya Holloman knew the man who was stabbed to death Sunday night in the first homicide of 2014. They'd talked not long ago.
At Jane Yelliott's funeral, they told stories, the kind that mix together like a perfect watercolor: part laughter, part tears.
The following ideas are possible solutions to our retirement crisis, cobbled together from different sources: Forbes, bar stool conversations with a financial planner, the news out of Australia, an email from an anarchist.
A Southern man don't need him around anyhow. — Lynyrd Skynyrd
In January 2014, Weston Wamp announces his candidacy for U. S. Congress.
They stole the bronze marker off her dad's grave.
Just before he was shot by a stranger furious over a car accident, just before he lay bleeding to death next to his screaming wife, Alex Gallman had walked his kids into school.
Perhaps the Virgin Mary felt the same things.
Phil Robertson shouldn't lose his job.
The woman has four kids. Her husband ran off. She's looking for work, but nobody's looking back. They cut the power off in her home weeks ago.
Our prettiest face is the Gig. It’s the shiniest bait we use to try and attract the best and brightest entrepreneurs from across America.
On inauguration day, Andy Berke made a request to the citizens of Chattanooga.
Bob Doak, head of the Chattanooga Convention and Visitors Bureau, introduced the guest speaker from Ironman at Tuesday's Rotary Club of Chattanooga lunch by making football jokes. Doak is a Florida State fan, a fact that will become apparent all too quickly.
So why, you ask, did I spend part of Tuesday morning inside Chattanooga Blood Assurance circling cotton swabs around the inside of my mouth like greyhounds around a track?
It’s right there on the list. Just before food and clothing. Right after the section on people being able to vote and participate in government.
Nelson Mandela once said education was the best way to change the world.
There are 135 iPads at our county's STEM school. Every student has one.
Caroline Johnson got to work at 8 o'clock on Tuesday morning. The first thing she did was answer her telephone.
One October night, a man named Dale Bryant Farris looked out across his Estill Springs, Tenn., neighborhood and saw some teenagers rolling his neighbor's yard.
On the first day of 2013, Justin Smith put 365 white pieces of paper inside a Mason jar, thinking it could change the world.
Earlier this week, some guys from a local radio station named me their 2013 Turkey of the Year, all because of a column I'd written about my relationship with a former gang member in town. Apparently, they thought it fowl.
Want to feel hog-heaven-good about things? Need a wholesome Tuesday before the chaos of Black Friday? How's a little giblet for your gravy? Then I give you these three little words:
What if there was a way to do things differently so that the problems we face could be fixed for generations to come?