Northwestern State University announces the names of Dean’s List students for the Spring 2026 semester. Students on the Dean’s List must be enrolled full-time at Northwestern and have a grade point average of between 3.5 and 3.99.

For questions regarding the Dean’s List, contact the NSU Registrar’s Office at (318) 357- 6171 or email registrar@nsula.edu.

Students listed by hometown (within Journal coverage areas) are as follows.

Goldonna – Winsome Guillory

Winnfield – Mattie Barnes, Kyleigh Blundell, Maggie Bruce, Sarah Carter, Haley Collins, Peyton Glenn, Pamela Hight, Marvanesha Lewis, Eli Little, John Pickett, Ella Price, Caleb Reed, Tolbert Triplett

Northwestern State University announces the names of Honor List students for the Fall 2025 semester. Students on the Honor List must be enrolled full-time at Northwestern and have a grade point average of between 3.0 and 3.49.

For questions regarding the Honor Roll, contact the NSU Registrar’s Office at (318) 357- 6171 or email registrar@nsula.edu.

Students listed by hometown are as follows.

Atlanta – Delia Serigny

Calvin – Karlee Abels

Dodson – Kyle Brown, Dakota Thomas, Hunter Vines

Goldonna – Halle Roton

Winnfield – Catheryn Busha, Hayley Duke, Anthony Knight, MaKayla Shelton

There have been a few close calls for me while fishing the big waters of Toledo Bend and Sam Rayburn. Each of these bodies of water are completely different in terms of how rough and dangerous each can be, whether it’s due to high winds or approaching storms. But one thing is the same; they will both scare you nearly to death. 

Over the years, I’ve had several close encounters that had me kissing the ground once I could put my feet on dry land. Even with these two lakes being close to each other as the crow flies, navigation for boaters can be totally different due to the fact that one has boat lanes and the other is pretty much wide open.

Let’s start with Toledo Bend. Geographically, this lake runs true north and south. So, a wind coming straight out of the south or directly from the north can make for extremely rough boat rides. Even a north or south wind of 5-10 MPH can have this body of water rocking and rolling. 

Sam Rayburn, on the other hand, is a different kind of lake in that runs northwest to southeast. That means if you get a strong northwest or southeast wind, navigation can be really tough. But wind in any other direction allows anglers to run one side of the lake or the other and avoid rough water because there are no boat lanes you have to run, like you do on Toledo Bend.

The problem with Toledo Bend is the fact that you must run the pre-charted boat lanes due to all the underwater stumps and debris that engulf this entire 72-mile-long waterway. Once you get out of the boat lanes you must idle to ensure safe boating navigation. 

But this also puts you at the mercy of Mother Nature and limits your ability to ride the waves that make navigation easier. Nothing is worse than driving your boat and going with the waves rather than against them. 

When possible, it’s always easier to go against the waves, which can sometimes allow you to run from one wave (once on plane) to the next, if the crest of each wave is not too far apart. 

I had one trip a few years ago that turned into one of the worst boat rides of my life. The tournament I was fishing was going out of Fin & Feather Resort on the south end of Toledo Bend. On this particular morning it was bluebird skies with zero wind in the pocket where we took off. 

But oh, how quickly things changed! Unbeknownst to any of us fishing this event, there was a strong 20-25 MPH wind dead out of the south that morning. When you reached the main lake boat road to head either north or south, you were met with 3-4 foot rolling waves. 

It was so rough that anglers were losing rods and reels and anything else on their boats that was not tied down. It was so bad all day that some anglers lost either a trolling motor or their electronic screens off the bow of their boats as they ran back in for weigh-in.  

I personally had fish located in the back of Negreet Creek on the Louisiana side of Toledo Bend and realized quickly that there was no way I was going across the lake in that kind of wind!

Like so many other anglers that day, I quickly switched to Plan B in order to try and salvage my tournament day by pulling into the first cove I found. I was simply going to fish new water and try and catch a solid limit of bass. 

My co-angler for the day asked me if I had ever fished in this pocket before. I looked him straight in the eye and said, “No, but take a good look at it, because you’re going to see it all day.” 

Around 1 o’clock that afternoon, it was time to start thinking about heading in for the weigh-in at 3, even though we were only two miles from the boat ramp. I was thinking it would take at least an hour, as the wind was now getting worse, blowing 30 mph, still out of the south. 

As I came out of the pocket and tried getting the boat up on plane, it was very apparent that this was not going to be possible and that the only way to make it back was to idle the entire two miles. 

One hour and 30 minutes later, we finally made it back to the weigh-in with only a few minutes to spare before we would have been given a late penalty — which was 1 pound for every minute you were late. 

I actually did better than I thought I would as I weighed-in a little over 15 pounds and finished in the top 15 for the day. But there were a lot of sad faces back at the ramp as guys loaded their boats, short a few rods and reels, along with trolling motors hanging off or electronics completely gone.

Tournament directors today have a very difficult job and are very conscious of sending anglers out on a body of water with either high winds predicted or the forecast of severe weather rolling in on tournament day. 

I know some anglers get frustrated when these directors make the call to cancel or postpone an event, but they’re just doing what is in the best interest of the anglers and making sure everyone gets back to their loved ones safely. After all, we do this for fun, not for a living!!!

Contact Steve at sgraf26@yahoo.com

You ever notice that God seems to run the universe like He’s driving in reverse? If any of us tried to run things the way He does, the DMV would take away our license and make us sit through that video about safe following distances. But God specializes in doing things backwards—not wrong, not confused, but gloriously, intentionally, redemptively backwards.

Take Abraham and Sarah. By all accounts, they should’ve been greatgrandparents sitting on the porch comparing prescription prices and arguing about who hid the remote. Instead, God hands them a diaper bag and says, “Surprise!” That’s backwards. And once you start looking for it, you see it everywhere.

God picks Moses the Mumbler to speak for Him. He chooses David the Kid to fight a giant. He calls Gideon the Scaredy Cat to lead an army. He uses Rahab—with the résumé no one expected—to help secure the Promised Land. That’s backwards.

Then Jesus arrives and takes the whole thing to another level. He says the first will be last. He says you win by losing. He says you gain by giving. He says love your enemies—which is so backwards we still haven’t gotten used to it.

And the biggest backwards moment of all? The King of Kings shows up born in a barn, rides into Jerusalem on a donkey, and defeats death by dying. That’s not just backwards—that’s resurrection logic.

Maybe that’s why so many of us feel disoriented when life doesn’t go the way we planned. We assume something must be wrong. But what if the backwards places are exactly where God does His best work? What if the moments that feel upsidedown are actually the moments when God is turning things rightsideup?

So if your life feels a little backwards right now, take heart. You might be closer to God’s will than you think. After all, He’s been steering in reverse since the beginning—and somehow, He always gets us where we need to go.

Herman Jerome “Jerry” Alter and Sara Rita Sinofsky married in 1956 in New York City.  Jerry and Rita both worked for high schools in New York and New Jersey; Jerry was a music teacher, and Rita was a speech therapist.  In 1974, Jerry retired at the young age of 47 and he and Rita bought a 20-acre mesa overlooking a mountain valley near Cliff, New Mexico, about 30 miles northwest of Silver City.  In 1979, they built a ranch-style home on the property overlooking the valley.  Jerry and Rita coauthored three independently published books, all of which were published in 2011.  The first was a blend of fictional and non-fiction adventure travel.  The second was a twist on Aesop’s Fables set in verse.  The third was a book of poetry based on their travel experiences.  The books sold poorly.  In the “about the author” section of the books, Jerry claimed that he had “visited over 140 countries on all continents, including both polar regions.”  

On April 9, 2012, 81-year-old Jerry died of natural causes, followed by 81-year-old Rita on June 5, 2017.  Rita’s nephew Ron Roseman, a resident of Houston, Texas, was the executor of her estate.  Ron contacted real estate agent Ruth Seawolf the following month to sell the property.  In an email discussing the property Ron said, “Ruthie, I’ve gone through the home, and I don’t think there is anything of value, but help yourself.”  Ruthie visited the home in preparation for putting it on the market and noted that it was “a little dated, older home,” but one she thought would “be fairly easy to sell.”  Ruthie contacted the owners of Manzanita Ridge Furniture & Antiques in Silver City, to visit the house to see how best to dispose of its contents.  Everything in the home was old and covered in dust.  When they removed the pictures and paintings from the walls, it was evident by the dust patterns that they had been hanging in the same positions for decades.  The antique store owners saw nothing they considered especially valuable and bought the entire contents for around $2,000.  

The antique store owners carted a few select items including furniture, small art pieces, and paintings back to their store and donated most of the contents to a local thrift store.  David Van Auker, one of the antique store owners, liked one of the paintings which had hung behind the Alter’s bedroom door for decades and intended to display it in his guest house.  Back at the store, customers were drawn to the painting in the cheap gold frame and said they recognized it.  After several customers independently expressed their belief that the painting looked familiar, David did some internet research.  He was stunned to learn that over three decades earlier, on the day after Thanksgiving in 1985, a man and woman who resembled Jerry and Rita stole a Willem de Kooning painting called Woman-Ochre from the University of Arizona Museum of Art in Tucson.  The painting was valued at over $160 million, but David returned the painting to the museum of art and refused a reward.  This was just the first of many valuable paintings that the FBI learned that Jerry and Rita Alter had stolen.  Everyone, especially their friends and family, were stunned to learn that Jerry and Rita Alter were professional art thieves.  

Sources:

1.     “Herman Jerome ‘Jerry’ Alter,” FindAGrave.com, accessed June 7, 2026, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/190759614/herman-jerome-alter.

2.     “Sara Rita Sinofsky Alter,” FindAGrave.com, accessed June 7, 2026, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/190758039/sara_rita-alter.

3.     Arizona Daily Star, November 30, 1985, p.1.

4.     Silver City Sun-News, August 18, 2017, p.A4.

5.     The Santa Fe New Mexican, September 10, 2017, p.A2.

6.     Carlsbad Current-Argus, December 28, 2024, p.3.

The Winn Parish Police Jury will meet Monday, June 15 at 5:00 PM for a regular meeting at the Winn Parish Courthouse, 119 West Main Street, Room 112.

Bradley Taylor, an upcoming senior at WSHS, has qualified to represent the state of Louisiana in the 2026 4-H Shooting Sports National Competition for the second consecutive year.  He will be competing as part of a team of four high school students from across Louisiana in the air pistol competition.  Bradley is pictured with his air pistol coach Mr. Bob Davis of Jackson Parish.  Last year, Bradley competed in the smallbore pistol competition where his team earned second place in the nation.  Participants are allowed to compete only once nationally in each contest so that more shooters have a chance to participate.

The 4-H Shooting Sports National Championships is held each June in Grand Island, Nebraska, at the Heartland Public Shooting Park.  4-H youth from across the country compete in compound archery, recurve archery, air rifle, air pistol, .22 rifle, .22 pistol, shotgun, muzzleloading, and hunting skills. Bradley is the son of Amanda Taylor and the late Chad Taylor of Winnfield.

If you have ever experienced a summer bass tournament, then you understand the downside of one of these events. IT’S HOT! As a kid, I loved summertime, but as an adult I probably dread this time of year more than any other.  

I’ve always said that I would rather fish on a 30-degree day than a 95-degree day. Why? Because I can put enough clothes on to stay warm in the winter, but I can’t take enough clothes off to cool down in the summer.

Early mornings are usually not as bad, as temperatures will range from 75 to 80 degrees. As the morning warms up, by 10 o’clock you’re starting into the hot zone of 88 to 90 degrees. Then around noon, you’re looking at 90 to 95 degrees and starting to fry like a Natchitoches Meat Pie!

Sweat is now running down your back and into places we won’t mention. It’s dripping off your nose every time you bend over to lip a fish or change a bait. You have now entered the “miserable zone” of summertime fishing.

The problem is there’s no shade to retreat to unless you’re lucky enough to find a bridge somewhere on the lake. But the problem with bridges is that’s where all the crappie fishermen are, as they too are retreating to shade.

But there are ways to help you stay cool, or should I say cooler, depending on how you dress. First, a good wide brim hat is a must to help keep the sun and its intense UV rays off your head and neck region. 

Pull on a long-sleeve hooded shirt with built in UV protection like the ones I wear produced by Columbia Sportwear. They offer a variety of great UV protection shirts. There’s one I wear that it is truly unique; it’s made from plastic water bottles and is called the Columbia Omni Shade.

This shirt is like wearing an air conditioner, especially when you crank the big engine and run across the lake. It has a way of cooling you down quickly and giving you muchneeded relief from the heat while protecting you from the sun’s harmful UV rays. Even when you’re not running across the lake, just a slight breeze will help to cool you down wearing these shirts.

I wear long lightweight pants from both HUK Apparel and Columbia that also have built-in UV protection. The key to staying cooler on those upper 90-degree days is keeping the direct sunlight off the skin.

Now most people can’t comprehend or even imagine wearing long sleeves or long pants on a hot summer day. I used to be one of those guys. But ever since my Melanoma diagnosis in 2023, I have come to realize that long sleeves and long pants not only help me to stay cooler but also protect me from the sun’s UV rays

While I still hate fishing a tournament on hot summer days, I have found ways to cope with those high temperatures from June through August.

 I’ve also found that I maintain a better concentration level throughout the day by wearing clothes to help keep me cool. Nothing is worse when fishing than being too cold, too wet or too hot, as it can make for a long miserable day. 

‘Til next time, good luck and good fishing!

Contact Steve at sgraf26@yahoo.com

What starts as one streaming service and a free trial can quickly become a monthly budget line item of its own. As subscription-based services continue to multiply, consumers everywhere are discovering that convenience often comes with a recurring charge attached.

Long before the infamous Salem Witch Trials captured the public imagination, the first recorded execution for witchcraft in what would become the United States took place on June 10, 1648.

On that date, Margaret Jones of the Massachusetts Bay Colony was executed after being convicted of witchcraft. Historians consider the case one of the earliest documented witchcraft prosecutions in colonial America and a precursor to the more widely known Salem Witch Trials that occurred more than four decades later.

Jones, a midwife and healer, was accused of using witchcraft after some of her patients reportedly experienced unusual reactions to treatments she administered. Court records from the period cited testimony from neighbors and community members who claimed to have witnessed suspicious behavior or unexplained events connected to her.

The execution reflected a period in colonial history when fear of the supernatural, religious beliefs, and limited scientific understanding often influenced legal proceedings. Accusations of witchcraft were not uncommon in Europe and the American colonies during the 17th century, and many individuals faced trials based on circumstantial evidence, rumors, and superstition.

Historians note that the case of Margaret Jones serves as an example of how fear and misinformation can shape public opinion and government actions. Today, scholars continue to study colonial witchcraft cases to better understand the social and cultural forces that contributed to such prosecutions.

The anniversary also arrives at a time when public interest in true crime, historical mysteries, and folklore remains strong. Museums, historians, and educational institutions across the country continue to examine the legacy of witchcraft trials and the lessons they offer about justice, evidence, and public fear.

While the events of June 10, 1648, occurred nearly four centuries ago, they remain an important chapter in early American history and a reminder of the consequences that can arise when suspicion outweighs facts.

This week I’m celebrating fifty two years as a licensed driver. Like most men, I naturally assume I’m a superior driver. The truth is I’m just competent enough not to injure myself or innocent pedestrians. I also spend far too much time reading bumper stickers and watching what other drivers are doing while they’re supposed to be driving. Once upon a time I could read a bumper sticker from a safe distance. Now, if I want to read your bumper, I have to tailgate you. I won’t comment on the silly things you’re doing behind the wheel, but I am working on a book.

Recently I was driving a loaner while my car was being serviced—a luxury model from a certain company that apparently believes drivers need more buttons than a NASA vehicle. It was keyless, of course. To start it, you put your foot on the brake and push a button. I’m used to that with my hybrid. But this wasn’t a hybrid. This was an old-fashioned internal combustion engine, the kind that used to require a little finesse and a lot of prayer.

My grandfather turned me loose behind the wheel about three years before the State of Alabama thought it was a good idea. I learned on what we called the “lonesome road”—a gravel stretch with only one real hazard: the creek running alongside it. Where I grew up, a bayou was a creek, and a creek was something you didn’t want to drive into. The only traffic on that road consisted of grandparents giving driving lessons and children learning how to scare them.

Most of my self-taught Drivers-Ed happened in a 1949 Plymouth Special Deluxe. You didn’t so much drive that car as point it in the general direction you hoped to go. Its only luxury was an AM radio. It had a starter button too—but starting that car on a cold morning was a full-body athletic event. You turned the key, depressed the clutch, pushed the starter button, and pumped the gas pedal like you were trying to churn butter. Getting that engine to fire was one of the early rites of male competency.

So imagine my amusement when I started the loaner car with a gentle tap of a button. No pumping the gas. No choke. No carburetor to flood. No vapor lock. If automakers are going to bring back push-button starters, they could at least bring back some of the drama. Cars have changed a lot in fifty-two years. Sometimes I feel like I’m not keeping up. When the service manager asked if I wanted a tutorial on all the features, I said, “I would rather not.”

And that’s when it hit me.

There are times I feel like I’m not keeping up with Jesus either. He asks me to go and do, and I would rather not. He asks me to love and forgive, and I would rather not. He asks me to look honestly at my life, and I would rather not. Sometimes the hardest thing to face is the mirror, and I would rather not.

Preachers feel it too. Some Sundays we leap out of bed ready to preach the love of God. Other Sundays we pull the covers over our head and think about calling in sick to ourselves. On those mornings, “I would rather not” feels like a full liturgy.

And you know what? Jesus understands. In the Garden of Gethsemane, facing the cross, He prayed a prayer that sounds an awful lot like “I would rather not.” But He went anyway. For you. For me.

So this Sunday, when you wake up and think about church and feel that tug of “I would rather not,” know this: you’re in good company. Preachers feel it. Jesus felt it. But blessings live on the other side of pushing past it.

How about it.

On Christmas Eve in 1870, a group of people, including about 16 prominent citizens of Hamilton, Ohio, gathered in a gambling room on the second floor of “the American Saloon,” an “aristocratic” drinking saloon on High Street directly opposite the Butler County courthouse.  Some of the men were playing casino at one table and others, including Thomas “Tom” Myers, were playing a game called faro at another table.  Suddenly, a gunshot rang out.  With the exception of E.D. Banister and Peter Schwab who were in the fervor of the game of casino and Tom who was seated at the faro table, the men began running from the room.  Tom stood up, leaned against the wall, and fired his pistol.  The bullet from Tom’s pistol struck the ceiling just above the faro table.  Mr. Bannister fled from the room and Mr. Schwab slunk to the floor for his own protection.  Tom fired another shot which struck the opposite wall.  Once sure that Tom was unable to fire his pistol again, Peter approached him and realized Tom had been shot in the abdomen.  Peter tried only briefly to get Tom to tell him who had shot him before he ran to get help.  Peter soon returned with Dr. Huber, who had been in the room but had fled when he heard gunshots.  Dr. Huber also tried to get Tom to explain who had shot him, but Tom was unable to speak.  Dr. Huber located a gunshot wound on Tom’s upper abdomen which had severed a main artery.  Within moments, 29-year-old Tom died.  

Immediately following the affray, all of the witnesses said that Tom “must have either did it himself or had it done.”  Based on the testimony of a young boy, Tom’s brother Joseph swore out a warrant for five men including Deputy Marshal Ich Sheely and Thomas McGehan.  Before the coroner’s jury, none of the witnesses could identify who shot Tom, but all said that Thomas McGehan had not been in the room before the shooting began.  When the accused men learned of the warrant, they turned themselves in.  In January 1871, the five men were indicted on the charge of first-degree murder.  Clement Vallandigham was one of the four defense attorneys in the trial which began on June 6, 1871.  The trial was long because over 120 witnesses had been called to testify.      

At about 9 p.m. on June 15, 1871, Clement Vallandigham and fellow defense attorney Andrew McBurney were in their hotel room discussing the case.  Clement was sure that Tom had shot himself and decided to show Andrew how Tom could have done it.  Clement pulled a pistol from his pocket, turned it towards himself, and pulled the trigger.  To his surprise, the pistol discharged.  The bullet struck Clement in almost exactly the same place Tom’s bullet had struck him.  The wound was fatal.  In trying to defend Thomas McGehan by explaining how Tom Myers had killed himself, Clement Vallandigham accidently killed himself too.  Based at least in part on Clement’s unfortunate accident, the jury found Thomas McGehan not guilty.    

Sources:

1.     The Cincinnati Enquirer, December 27, 1870, p.8.

2.     The Cincinnati Enquirer, January 31, 1871, p.8.

3.     The Cincinnati Enquirer, February 15, 1871, p.8.

4.     The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 6, 1871, p.8.

5.     The Evening Post (Cleveland, Ohio), June 17, 1871, p.2.

6.     The Cincinnati Enquirer, June 19, 1871, p.1.

7.     The Cincinnati Enquirer, December 28, 1871, p.8.

8.     “Thomas S. Myers,” Find A Grave, accessed May 25, 2026, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/106977757/thomas-s-myers.

9.     “Clement Laird Vallandigham,” Find A Grave, accessed May 25, 2026, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/2526/clement-laird-vallandigham.