I love to read. I think I always have. My memory doesn’t stretch back far enough to recall a time when good books weren’t a part of my life. Our home was filled with them. My parents were readers, so maybe I learned the art of reading by osmosis? If not, then certainly by example. As a toddler, I became a precocious reader. By the time I was four, I was reading a fair amount on my own.
Boulder City has a great vision statement. It’s located on the front page of our website: “The City of Boulder City is committed to preserving its status as a small town, with a small-town charm, historical heritage and unique identity, while proactively addressing our needs and enhancing our quality of life.”
OK. So I had originally intended to write about a totally different subject this month. But a glance at the calendar and the death of one of my teen heroes means I am gonna write about Halloween. Kinda. Sorta.
When I sat down to use the word processing program Word, I was accosted by my computer which wanted me to use “Copilot.” I don’t need copilot to compose what many humans have, until recently, been capable of creating, a column in the newspaper. I enjoy crafting my words from my soul, which is consciousness. I’m sure you have a soul too! Hopefully, that doesn’t spook you!
Nov. 7 will mark a year since the ribbon cutting of the St. Jude’s Ranch for Children Healing Center and shortly after, the opening of the since renamed school, Amy Ayoub Academy of Hope.
The Boulder Theatre opened in 1932 with 550 seats and the only air conditioning in Boulder City. Earl Brothers, who owned and operated the theater, ran movies 24 hours a day to accommodate all shifts of the hot and exhausted workers building Boulder Dam.
“There’s a correlation between those who play the lottery and income,” Nevada economist Thomas Cargill said in 2005. “You know, the lottery is a regressive tax on people who are not very good at math. I saw that on a bumper sticker in California.”
If ever a man appeared to have prepared himself for the flak and sucker punches found in Nevada’s legislative and university politics, it was Jack Lund Schofield.
I remember a time back in the sixth grade when I turned in a book report. Mr. Levanis reviewed it, handed it back to me and said, “This isn’t acceptable. Go back and do it over.”
From its youngest residents to its most senior citizens, you would be hard pressed to find someone in Boulder City whose life hasn’t been touched by a nonprofit organization.
In Nevada’s early days, the state’s history was written mostly by club women rather than by trained historians. By some accounts Nevada did not get its first professional historian until the 1950s with the arrival of Russell Elliott.
If you ask me if I enjoy my life, I would say, without hesitation, I do. I take great pleasure in living in Boulder City, even though I miss some dear friends and family, my favorite restaurants and the cultural amenities I enjoyed in my birthplace, Chicago.
Venna Davis spent the better part of a long life helping to bring green to the desert.
The most important part of what happens in a city council meeting is not always the vote. Sometimes it is something that seems minor at the time. This week, as the council finally voted unanimously to tighten up Boulder City’s notoriously lax leash law, the important part came long before any discussion about the actual law.
There are a couple of things that unite most Nevadans: how people often mispronounce that state’s name and for those who have been around a while, their dislike of the Duke men’s basketball team.
Parents of student athletes playing on Boulder City High School’s football team received a note last Thursday morning from BCHS Principal Amy Wagner informing them that the team’s head coach would be “unavailable” for that night’s playoff game.
It’s a case of making something positive come out of a tragedy.
