What is Thanksgiving without a Thanksgiving column? For those of us who are tasked with offering our opinions on these pages, it is an obvious topic. And a good one. A chance to remind ourselves of the many things for which we are thankful, from beautiful sunrises to family and friends to our freedoms we too often take for granted and a lot more in between.
I have pondered this subject for a while as to what I would like to share with you this Thanksgiving. I have so much for which to be thankful, I wasn’t sure where start. So I decided to start with you. I am thankful for the opportunity to have this conversation with you each week. And it is indeed a conversation. If you want a lecture, you will have to find it somewhere else. I don’t do lectures.
It isn’t that I don’t have strong opinions. I do. In fact, it was a strong opinion that got me into the column-writing business in the first place. Some 26 years ago I was asked to write a guest column for an Atlanta business publication regarding how the city of Atlanta had performed during the 1996 Centennial Olympics. I had been a managing director of the Atlanta Committee for the Olympic Games and had seen the city’s performance up-close-and-personal. I was not kind. From city government to the local media to the business community, I said it was obvious Atlanta was in over its head. The city had a chance to put itself among the great cities of the world and blew it. They couldn’t walk their big talk.
That column got such a huge response, I was asked to write another one and then another one and that turned into a weekly column that today runs across the state. And here I am talking to you these many years later. Time flies when you are having fun.
While some of you may be new to my writings, many of you have seen my musings for the better part of two decades. A number of you I consider close friends, although we have never met face-to-face and likely never will. But you write me regularly sharing your opinions and I respond.
I don’t know about my columnist colleagues, but I answer all my mail, good or bad. The Beloved Woman Who Shared My Name couldn’t understand why I would thank a reader who had been critical of me and/or my opinion. The answer was simple: They read the column. I only get antsy if I get no mail. That doesn’t happen often. (I have about 20 comments awaiting a response as soon as we finish our conversation today.) Also, you have the same right of free expression as do I.
While my job is to communicate with you, it is a two-way street. You have sustained me through some rough patches in my life. When our 19-year-old grandson, Zack, died suddenly while training for a marathon, your response was overwhelming. When I lost the Beloved Woman Who Shared Name in 2020, you were there for me. (For any newcomers who wonder why I never mentioned my wife by name, when I began writing columns, she made me swear I would never do so. And I didn’t. However, if you promise not to tell anyone, it is Jane.)
Your loyalty and support doesn’t mean you won’t rap my knuckles when you think it is deserved. I remain amazed after all these years how closely some of you read this column and will point out a typographical error or a grammatical faux pas that I had committed and had missed.
Words matter and they can be hurtful, particularly to those on the receiving end. I try to remember that, but sometimes I will let my feelings get the best of me. I suffer fools poorly. One of my many shortcomings.
How long will I keep doing this? The editors have the final say on that. I run for reelection every week. The challenge is to keep my thoughts and opinions fresh, entertaining and, at times, provocative. I try not to take myself seriously, but I take the responsibility of corresponding with you very seriously. It is an honor and a privilege. And that is why this Thanksgiving, I felt I should let you know that while I have so many things to be thankful for, you, dear reader, are at the top of the list. Thank you.
Dick Yarbrough is a longtime Georgia resident and former public relations executive. Reach him at dick@dickyarbrough.com; at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, GA 31139; or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dickyarb.