John Archibald

Shoot me, he asks, after a quarter century on Alabama’s death row. All it would take is five shooters, five rifles, one of them loaded with blanks.

Dahlonega, Georgia, is a special place to Alabama writer John Archibald, who writes about family trips he has taken there throughout his life.

“It's critical that we use this, and now.”

Artificial intelligence can’t make something as beautiful as the drawings you scrawl on scrap paper with purple crayons.

It is harder to celebrate together because politicians, parties, influencers and family members tell so many they are unAmerican because of the way they pursue happiness.

You’d be hard pressed to pick your favorite scandal.

I don't want to jinx it.

The markers intended to tell the story of a towering civil rights figure are tattered, peeling, unreadable. Unforgettable, for all the wrong reasons.

This is what they call in the football business “bulletin board material.”

“We have to fight for it like it’s our backyard."