Columns

Along a Highway 101 frontage road near San Juan Bautista there’s a discrete wrought iron sign proclaiming, “FREEDOM REIGNS.'' You may have driven by many times and never noticed it, or the keypad located just below to the left. We slowed down to enter...

With all the controversy surrounding California’s mandated housing bill, let’s take a look back to a time when our very own Town Council considered making an even more draconian move. During the 1960s, downtown businesses were losing customers to the popular new concept of shopping...

At the 114 Royce St. newspaper office, we sometimes worked until midnight in the startup days. One warm night, I walked outside to the distinctive smell of freshly roasting coffee beans. A column of smoke rose over Main Street, three blocks away.  I followed it...

What were your favorite school memories as a child? Mine included counting roly-polies in the grass at recess, having mud-sliding contests after school, and picking wildflowers with my friends. Some of my least favorite memories were having to play soccer on plastic turf on...

So there we stood… on the corner of N. Santa Cruz Ave. and Main Street two weeks ago, ready to start a weekly newspaper in Los Gatos. Again. Randy Frey was there, as was Roger Sanford, who always manages to show up at the...

As a young journalist, I was once invited to a meeting with Sheriff Bob Winter at a Los Gatos insurance office. At one point, one of the attendees asked the folksy sheriff if there was anything he could do to help. I remember Winter...

There are drought-tolerant, warm season turf grasses that are tougher, require less water/maintenance/fertilizer and, if maintained properly, will equal or exceed artificial grass in quality, safety and perhaps usability. Natural grass fields also have many other health and environmental benefits such as providing oxygen,...

“He won’t go away until you come out and see him,” our exasperated office manager, Marilyn Fitch, who’d been trying to protect me from the unscheduled visitor to our Royce Street office, came back and informed me.  “Who?” I asked. “Harry Cohen.” I was always happy to...

I started my holiday season by getting hacked. The hacking was a product of my foolishness rather than a case of my supposed diminishing faculties due to my age (71 1/2) getting the better of me. Something was fishy (no pun intended) in the...

In Morgan Hill, there are no roads looking like a pockmarked moonscape and no tumbleweed rolling across the open spaces. The city’s drama level is lower than the cost of living (although perhaps not by much). The downtown area is vibrant, filled with restaurants,...