Last Wednesday morning I watched the inauguration of our nation’s 46th president, Joseph R. Biden, with tears in my eyes.
Editorials
Periodically, I have to remind readers that the “articles” featured on this page are not news stories. They are opinion pieces.
Today is the last day of 2020. I know I am not the only one who is eager to see this year end.
A few years ago, many readers commented how much they enjoyed my column about holiday baking and requested that I make this an annual tradition. As you read this, I will be at home, enjoying the fruits of my labor after spending a week’s vacation knee-deep in flour, sugar and spices, in the true spirit of this message.
I love this time of year. There’s a nip in the air. The leaves on trees glow in shades of red, yellow and orange. Families and friends gather for festive meals. And Hallmark airs countless Christmas movies.
It should come as no surprise to anyone that 2020’s word of the year is pandemic.
Yesterday, I couldn’t help but shed a tear or two as a small, private ceremony was held at the Southern Nevada State Veterans Home to thank veterans for their service.
This year’s election seemed to underscore the strange nature of 2020.
Last week, City Council members terminated the employment contracts for City Manager Al Noyola and City Attorney Steve Morris.
Sunday marked the start of the 80th annual observance of National Newspaper Week.
From the very beginning of our country, voting for those who will govern us has been an intrinsic principle.
Today we are introducing what we hope will become a regular feature in the Boulder City Review.