Back in the 1960s, Christmas shopping was an event. Families piled into cars, drove downtown, and pressed their noses against frosty department store windows. The glow wasn’t from a screen—it was from a color wheel shining on an aluminum Christmas tree, turning silver branches into psychedelic blue, red, and green.

And if you wanted to dream big? You didn’t scroll Amazon—you flipped through the Penny’s or Sears catalog. Those glossy pages were the original “wish list generator.” Children circled toys with crayons, then wrote letters to Santa with the confidence that he had a bulk account at Sears. The catalog was basically Santa’s shopping cart.

Fast forward to today: shopping is done in pajamas, with coffee in hand, scrolling through endless digital aisles. No frosty windows, no jingling bells—just the glow of a screen and the occasional “Your package will arrive Tuesday.” We’ve traded window shopping for browser tabs, and clerks in bow ties for chatbots that say, “How can I help you?” (though they never look nearly as cheerful).

And yet—amid all this cultural change—the church still gathers to sing the same carols. “Silent Night” hasn’t been updated to “Silent WiFi.” The story of the baby born in Bethlehem hasn’t been rebranded as “Bethlehem Prime.” While the world has gone from aluminum trees to LED lights, from catalogs to clicks, the heart of Christmas remains unchanged: God’s gift of love, wrapped not in shiny paper but in swaddling clothes.

There’s something comforting about this contrast. In a season when everything else demands “new and improved,” the church offers something beautifully old and enduring. Nostalgia for the simple isn’t just a warm memory—it’s a reminder that the best gifts don’t need upgrades. They’re timeless.

Over the course of my lifetime after growing up as an athlete, very few people have had the impact that coaches have. Today I’m going to salute a man that literally changed my life – a man who many hold with high regard not just as a coach, but as a person.

Back in 1979, Northwestern State head football coach A.L. Williams, and my recruiter, coach Al Miller, offered me the opportunity to play on the Division 1 level and get a college degree. Like most 18-year-old’s, you don’t always appreciate the opportunities you’re offered until later in life.

While I had several offers from other schools, there was just something different when I made my official visit to Northwestern. Right off the bat, the NSU Demon football players involved in my recruiting trip were great guys who really welcomed me as I felt right at home with both players and coaches. 

Now understand, that when it comes to recruiting a player to any university, you’re going to see the best side of everyone involved as they will say and do anything to get a commitment from you.  But there was something different about my visit to NSU; it felt comfortable and it felt like home.

Coach Williams is a Louisiana high school and college coaching legend and is also a former legendary running back for Louisiana Tech University. As a coach at Woodlawn High School in Shreveport, he coached some of the greatest quarterbacks to ever play the game like former Arkansas Razorback and Buffalo Bills QB Joe Ferguson, on the heels of former Louisiana Tech and Pittsburgh Steeler QB Terry Bradshaw. 

Coach Williams, while at NSU, also groomed former USFL MVP (Michigan Panthers) and New Orleans Saints QB Bobby Hebert. I was truly proud to be a part of an era that many considered the greatest talent to ever play at Northwestern. That list starts with the Kansas City Chiefs running back Joe Delaney (1981 AFC Rookie of the Year, who died a hero two years later drowning trying to rescue three kids, one who survived). His track and football teammate was future Miami Dolphins All-Pro wide receiver Mark Duper. There was Indianapolis Colts wide receiver Victor Oatis and three-time All American and two-time Super Bowl champion Gary Reasons, the former New York Giants linebacker who is in the College Football Hall of Fame along with Joe.

There was a reason these guys came to Northwestern — to play for coach Williams! Coach did not put on a show when it came to recruiting players. He was honest and a man of great integrity who led by his actions. He was a man of great character and a tremendous judge of talent.

The one thing I remember most about playing under coach Williams was his dedication to family. Every week after practice, he would emphasize the importance of us calling our mom and dad and staying in touch with all family members. 

They say behind every great man is an even greater woman and that was definitely the case for Coach Williams as his wife Sarah was the best team mom ever. Mrs. Sarah, as I called her, was such a sweet lady and treated all players as if they were the sons she never had. 

She even gave my roommate and I a full-size roast one evening after we ran into her at the local grocery. We were actually looking for a good frozen pizza when Mrs. Sarah spotted us and said to follow her out to the house. Upon arrival, she proceeded to pull out of the oven a full-size roast; wrapped it in foil and said ‘enjoy’!  

For two college kids, this was as close to a home-cooked meal as you could get! So, as we arrived back at the dorm, we had to hide the roast under a bunch of clothes in a laundry basket so we could get to our second floor room undetected. But that did not work well, as a bunch of hungry Demon football players followed the smell and raced up the stairs banging on our door. But no door was opened until we had our fill. 

In today’s college athletics world, so many recruiters make promises they cannot keep. They tell players what they want to hear and flatter them with BS in order to get them to sign on the dotted line. Coach Williams was straight up with all his players. The only promise coach Williams made was giving you the opportunity; the opportunity to prove that you deserve to be in the starting lineup. 

In 1979, Coach Williams took a chance on a young boy from East Texas and offered me that opportunity to play both college football and baseball while gaining an education and receiving my college degree. He helped to set me up for the rest of my life and there’s no way a person can ever repay that. 

Coach Williams and I have stayed in touch over the years, and I still enjoy our phone calls. While he’s just one of many coaches who have had a huge impact on my life, A.L. Williams is the one who truly changed the course of my life and made me a proud NSU Demon. 

The Bienville Parish Assessor’s Office is seeking the public’s Christmas cards. Send Christmas cards to the Bienville Parish Assessor’s Office, and they’ll display them throughout the season for everyone to enjoy. As a “thank you,” everyone who sends in a card will be entered into a raffle for a holiday prize.

Mail or drop off the cards at:

Bienville Parish Assessor’s Office
100 Courthouse Drive, Suite 1200
Arcadia, LA 71001

The Assessor’s Office will stop accepting cards for the raffle at 4 p.m. on Dec. 18. The raffle drawing will be held Dec. 19.

Let’s spread some Christmas joy together!

Shreveport-Bossier is no stranger to hosting high level bass tournaments, most recently last month the Major League Fishing organization (MLF) brought their Summit Cup Team Series to local area lakes. 

Over the last 25 years or so, Major League Fishing has brought several BFL’s, the Toyota Series and Team Series to our region. The B.A.S.S. organization has brought the Bassmaster Classic twice to Shreveport-Bossier’s mighty Red River. 

There’s also been the highly prestigious MLF All-American tournament that was held on Cross Lake a few years ago as local angler Nick Lebrun took home first place, and kick started his professional career that he’s still enjoying today. 

While all these events have had a huge impact on the economy in our area, these team events are only a handful of guys (24 anglers) fishing in a team format with two anglers in the boat. 

In these Team Series events, there are 12 two-man teams. MLF has four different Cup events each year called the Challenge, Heritage, Patriot and Summit where these teams fish in an elimination-style format cutting from 12 teams over a six-day period down to four in the championship round.

While most regular professional tours are huge in terms of the number of anglers (usually over 150), and crowds at weigh-ins, the biggest thing for a Team Series event like the Summit Cup is how the economic impact comes later once this made-for-TV tournament airs nationwide next spring. 

Here’s how the team series works. First, anglers are paired up through a draft where one captain of each team picks another angler from a pool of MLF anglers. The fishing format of the Team Series is every fish counts as the fish are weighed, recorded and released immediately. 

Once the teams have been established, MLF will select a city where the Team Series will converge not knowing what lake they will be fishing until the morning of the event. Each day of the elimination rounds, anglers are loaded into a truck for a ride to whatever lake MLF has selected for competition.

While anglers have no information or practice time in any of these Team Series events, it’s a true test of figuring out how to locate and catch bass on a new body of water. That’s the premise of the MLF Team Series – no practice, no information and no idea where they are fishing until they arrive at the ramp of the waterway they will be fishing that day.  

The anglers themselves absolutely love this format as it brings out the best in their ability to figure a new body of water in a short time. It’s a pride thing for all professional anglers who take more pleasure in finding fish than they do catching them.  

If you’re not a fan of Major League Fishing, I highly encourage you to go online at majorleaguefishing.com and follow their entire tournament organization and the many circuits they own. They host tournaments from the grass roots level like the BFL’s up to the highest professional level with the Bass Pro Tour. 

Also, when you see any of the Shreveport-Bossier city officials, let them know how much you appreciate them bringing in these high-level tournaments and what it means to our economy. The economic impact is huge for the entire region when any of these top-rated bass organizations come to our area. 

I survived a family cruise, if you’ve never been on one, they are—also known as the floating palace of unlimited shrimp and questionable karaoke. I enjoy cruising to places I’ve already been to, and this is our third trip to this destination. It’s like reruns of your favorite sitcom: familiar, comforting, and you already know where the good snacks are.

Looking out over the Gulf, I feel the majesty and awe of God. It’s a transcendent moment of praise—right between the buffet and the bingo tournament. If you’ve never been on a cruise, let me share a secret: the moment you step on board, you are royalty. They greet you with a smile, a fizzy drink that tastes like vacation, and a level of attention that borders on psychic. Your cabin steward knows your schedule better than your spouse. They know when you’re on deck, when you eat, and how many towels you use. It would be creepy if it weren’t so delightfully nautical.

But the day the cruise ends? Oh, friend. You go from royalty to livestock. Overnight. The elevators are lined with flak jackets—not for safety, but to protect the walls from your overstuffed luggage and your overstuffed self. The crew stops smiling. They start pointing. They point to the bill for those fruity drinks. They point to the herd holding pen where you wait for your number to be called to get off the ship. They point to the exit. No wave. No hug. Just a silent “don’t let the anchor hit you on the way out.”

But here’s the thing: the contrast between the cruise welcome and the cruise farewell is instructive.

I knew a couple who visited a church for five years before joining. When asked why, they said, “We liked being guests. We didn’t want to be treated like just members.” I get it. We schmooze guests like we’re selling timeshares in heaven. We offer Tupperware, a three percent tithe, eight commandments, and three free sins just to get folks to join. But once they do? Boom. Welcome to the Kingdom—here’s your Sunday School class, now start teaching!

From the outside, it looks like bait and switch. Or maybe just the cruise ship dynamic. So, we’re working on treating everyone like it’s their first Sunday. (Methodists, that was your cue. Don’t make me spell it out in Wesleyan.)

We clergy and church staffs watch people sit on the same pew for fifteen years and not know first names. So, learn a name. Make a friend. Offer grace with a side of gumbo. What if we treated everyone like a first-time guest to our neck of the woods?

Church folks, listen up: Jesus said, “Welcome the stranger.” Sunday, someone might walk into your church who’s never been in one before. In Jesus’ name, welcome them. And maybe offer them a fruity drink. Or at least a smile that says, “You’re not a number. You’re family.”

The game of battledore is centuries older than football, baseball, soccer, basketball, golf, and just about every sport we watch or participate in. Over 2,000 years ago, people played battledore in China, Japan, India, Siam, and Greece, but its origin remains a mystery. Although popular for millennia, battledore was not included in the Olympic games until 1992 when it made its debut at the summer games in Barcelona, Spain. Its inclusion in the Olympics went unnoticed by most of the world’s population. Many of those who did notice argued that it should not be considered a sport, especially not an Olympic sport.

The game of battledore went largely unchanged for most of its existence. Beginning in 1857, British soldiers who had been sent to India to put down an Indian rebellion against British rule learned the game of battledore and played it to combat boredom. Players used wooden paddles similar to modern ping pong paddles to hit the projectile as many times as possible without it hitting the ground. The projectile was most likely a rock or nut to begin with, but the speed at which it could travel made it dangerous and its small size made it hard to see. To slow it down, players shaped a piece of cork in an oval similar in size and shape to the half of a walnut shell. To further decrease the projectile’s speed and to make it easier to see, players eventually rimmed the oval with delicate feathers from two to three inches in length. The soldiers enhanced the game of battledore by marking out boundary lines that players had to keep the projectile within because they probably got tired of having to search for projectiles hit by overzealous players. They also added a rope to divide the play area in half and hit the projectile back and forth over the rope. Much like the game of “hot potato,” players wanted to avoid having the projectile on their side of the rope. One newspaper reported that “the pleasure of the game is derived from the puzzling antics of the [projectile], whose flight is as dependable as that of a drunken-darning needle.” “Because of the illusive vagaries in flight,” the article included, “the players display the agility of the grasshopper, hummingbird, and leaping kangaroo.”

When those British soldiers in India returned home, they brought the game battledore with them. Battledore became popular, especially with the upper classes. The most notable change to battledore happened when aristocrats began playing it at the country estate of Henry Somerset, 9th Duke of Beaufort, in Gloucestershire, England. It was there that the game of battledore had its most noticeable change. Most of us have never heard of the game of battledore, but now you will remember that the modern version of the game was named after the Duke of Beaufort’s country house, Badminton House.

Sources:

1. The Daily Reporter (White Plaines, New York), February 9, 1937, p.2.

2. “The Origins of Badminton,” Badminton New Zealand, accessed November 23, 2025, https://badminton.org.nz/courses/national-accredited-line-judge/lessons/badminton-basics/topic/what-is-badminton/.

3. “Badminton – an overview and history of the sport,” BBC.com, accessed November 23, 2025, https://www.bbc.co.uk/bitesize/guides/zs89dmn/revision/1.

Just after midnight on December 3, 1984, a deadly cloud of gas escaped from a Union Carbide pesticide plant in central India, killing thousands and injuring hundreds of thousands more in what became one of the world’s worst industrial disasters.

The leak of methyl isocyanate, a highly toxic chemical, spread quickly through the densely populated neighborhoods surrounding the plant. Residents awoke choking, blinded, and gasping for air. Many died before they could flee.

By morning, the city was overwhelmed. Hospitals filled beyond capacity, and confusion reigned as authorities struggled to understand what had happened. Estimates of the death toll range from 3,000 in the first days to more than 15,000 over time, with lingering health effects that persist decades later.

The Bhopal disaster exposed failures in industrial safety and corporate accountability. Investigations revealed poor maintenance, inadequate training, and the absence of emergency planning.

Union Carbide and its successor, Dow Chemical, faced years of legal battles and international criticism. Survivors continue to seek justice and environmental cleanup.

The tragedy also prompted reforms in industrial regulation and environmental oversight worldwide.

December 3 remains a solemn reminder of the consequences of negligence — and the need to balance technological progress with human safety. As the world reflects on advancements in medicine and communication achieved on the same date — including the first successful heart transplant in 1967 — Bhopal stands as a cautionary tale etched into the world’s collective memory.