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Friday, March 10th, 2017

By Leslie Kolovich

They are both Australian cattle dogs, and they have to do their best to herd me past the living room to the front door without stopping to see the morning news. I think they instinctively know that I’m a better person if they can get me outside first...
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Thursday, March 2nd, 2017

By Chris Leavenworth

The inflamed partisan issues that constantly barrage us through mainstream and social media outlets are often presented in a binary manner that keeps everyone at odds...
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Sunday, January 22nd, 2017

Thoughts from Longtime SoWal Resident Nikki Hedrick

I’m 31 and lived over 30 of those years right off 30A, yet my window is limited. I don’t remember Fort Walton Beach or Destin as...
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Tuesday, November 22nd, 2016

By Iryna Strilchuck

Young people cross half of the world to create an American Dream, which is different for everyone. These are people who work hard, respect the law, believe in their success, and...
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Thursday, October 20th, 2016

Commentary by Dave Rauschkolb

Like in any very special place, there are going to be passionate, opposing forces at work to control what happens to it...
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Wednesday, October 12th, 2016

Choctawhatchee High Alumni Returns and Likes What She Sees - For the Most Part

I attended Pryor Junior High for grades 7-9 and then went on to Choctawhatchee High School. I graduated from Choctaw in 1975 and was accepted to Auburn University. I graduated from Auburn in 1979 with a degree in secondary education and moved to the state of Virginia...
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Thursday, March 24th, 2016

Chad Thurman Remembers the Dread Clampitt-Old Bull Young Bull Musician

Beachcomber contributing writer and photographer Nikki Hedrick calls this her favorite photo of the late great Kenny Oliverio (Dread Clampitt, Old Bull Young Bull). “Not because it’s that strong of a photo, but it was one of those nights you were simply grateful to be in the room,” she says...
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Saturday, August 29th, 2015

Ba-boom Ba-boom Ba-boom

It was back in the late 1980s, in California, when I walked into my first drum circle. I remember going in the front door of the house where it was being held and hearing a deeply resonating beat created by several types of drums. No words spoken, the sound, smiles, and eye connections were the communication of the night...
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Friday, July 31st, 2015

By Beachcomber Music Award Winner Dannica Lowery

A drunk guy thought he was being cool and, to my horror, came on stage and snatched my microphone away from my face, subsequently trampled my pedals and sloshed his drink all over me and my guitar...