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Hurting for the victims of Hurricane Michael
Dick Yarbrough
Am I my brother’s keeper? Absolutely. My sister’s, too. Particularly, if they are my readers. When they hurt, I hurt. I have been blessed to write a weekly column that has been running in newspapers throughout the state of Georgia for the past two decades. There are readers I have never met face-to-face but who I consider my friends, thanks to their emails and letters and to the editors who give me the opportunity to correspond with them. This past week, I have been in touch with a number of people in south Georgia whose towns were in the direct and devastating path of Hurricane Michael. I can’t imagine what they have been through and are still going through. It is a cliche but one that fits the situation — I guess you had to be there. Homes have been destroyed, lives have been lost and livelihoods wrecked. As I mentioned last week, I had planned to brag on Georgia’s olive industry, a gem unknown as of yet to many Georgians, but highly regarded by some of America’s top chefs.