
Jennifer Anniston's GQ cover.
Umm … wow.
I just had to post this. I mean, I wasn’t a huge “Friends” fan, but I might be reconsidering.
Nothing else, … that’s all I have to say, … really.

Jennifer Anniston's GQ cover.
Umm … wow.
I just had to post this. I mean, I wasn’t a huge “Friends” fan, but I might be reconsidering.
Nothing else, … that’s all I have to say, … really.

Dong Yun Yoon speaks after losing four family members when a military plane crashed into his house on Tuesday.
Dong Yun Yoon lost everything on Monday.
As if the sky fell on them, his two daughters (two and 16 months old), his wife of three years and his mother-in-law were killed when a U.S. Marines F/A-18 slammed into his house in a quiet neighborhood near San Diego.
As a father of two young children, I have no idea how I would react. I’m not sure I could keep it together.
So it’s safe to say I was surprised … no, amazed … when I read about Yoon’s plea to the public in the hours following this tragedy. Having just lost his entire family, the Korean immigrant was concerned about … the pilot.
“Please pray for him not to suffer from this accident,” Yoon said of the Marine who safely ejected. “… I don’t blame him. I don’t have any hard feelings. I know he did everything he could.”
I’d like to think I was strong enough to be thinking of someone else after I had lost everything. I don’t know. And I hope I never have to find out.
Mr. Yoon, his family … and the pilot … are in my prayers. I hope they’re in yours, too.

R.C. Edwards sees Clemson football coach Dabo Sweeney off before the Tigers game with South Carolina one last time.
Dr. R.C. Edwards passed away on Thursday at the age of 94. He’ll be missed.
Anyone who has a degree from Clemson University, as I do, owes a debt of gratitude to Dr. Edwards.
As an editor for Clemson’s student newspaper, I was lucky enough to meet a few people in my time at the school that most students wouldn’t without a little extra effort.
Among those, my two favorites were easily former sports information director Bob Bradley, God bless him, and former University president R.C. Edwards. And though I spent a year as news editor, I met Edwards during my time as sports editor. There may have been no bigger Clemson sports fan than Dr. Edwards.
As a student, I was admittedly unaware of just how much Edwards meant to Clemson. What I knew was he had been president for a long time (21 years) and was quite popular.
And just by watching how those with influence at Clemson acted around him, it was clear how much respect he garnered.
When you understand what he did for the school, it makes sense.
“Except for Thomas Green Clemson himself, the founder of the university, Bob Edwards was the single most important person in the history of the school,” Donald McKale, Clemson’s Class of 1941 Memorial Professor of History, and my professor for a summer school World War II in Europe class, told the Greenville News.
He entered the school as a 15-year-old freshman, graduated in 1933 with a B.S. in Textile Engineering, returned to the school in 1956 as a vice president and became president in 1958.
He retired in 1979. Those 21 years were quite eventful in American history, and it was no different at Clemson. Edwards was president through three major turning points in Clemson history.
Edwards oversaw the transformation of the University from an all-male military academy to a co-ed university.
He took on the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers in the early 1950s when they initially wanted to flood 9,000 acres of Clemson’s campus and force the school to move in order to construct the Hartwell resevoir. Not only did Edwards win, but he convinced the Corps to actually re-route the Seneca River in the process.
And possibly the most impressive feat … Edwards facilitated the peaceful, if not downright uneventful, integration of Clemson University in 1963 at a time when it certainly wasn’t the norm (Just prior to Harvey Gantt’s enrollment at Clemson, James Meredith’s enrollment at the University of Mississippi at Oxford in the fall of 1962 had forced the use of federal troops to quell violence).
According to the book, “Tradition: A History of the Presidency of Clemson University,” Edwards and Gantt both showed admiration for the way the other handled himself during the process.
Of Gantt, Edwards said: “If Harvey Gantt had not been the great person that he was and is, the situation at Clemson would have been a lot different.”
When Edwards retired in 1979, Gantt returned the compliment, telling the press, “President Edwards was very fair to me. He seemed to be singularly interested in making sure the change was peaceful.”
By the time Edwards retired, he had personally handed out more than 70 percent of the diplomas given at that point in the history of Clemson University.
When Edwards retired he didn’t go away. He was always around and approachable, even to a student who didn’t enroll until more than a decade after he had left office.
Here’s the statement on Edwards from current Clemson president James Barker:
R.C. Edwards was a giant in the history of Clemson University. No president will ever surpass his dedicated service to his alma mater nor his impact on all aspects of life at Clemson. Dr. Edwards was my President and he has always been a part of my Clemson experience, from the day I first walked onto campus to today. When he shook my hand at graduation in 1970, it was one of the proudest days of my life. I still stand in awe of all that he accomplished as president. He led Clemson through the transition from a small, all-male military college to a major co-educational, integrated university. He presided over an era of enormous, much-needed change with strong, steady and visionary leadership. He will always be remembered.
Edwards did what was best for the University, even if it wasn’t the most popular option, and he could do so because no one could question his love of Clemson.
Many people graduate from college, and as time passes, the school they attended becomes just that, where they went to school. But many who leave Clemson never get over the feeling that there is something special in those hills and about the family they are forever a part of. And for that, we owe a lot to Dr. Robert C. Edwards.
Thank you R.C. Edwards, you’ll be missed.
A couple Saturday’s ago, I actually got to have dinner with my wife.
Just my wife.
For the first time since January.
It wasn’t the first time we’d been without the kids. We went to a Press Association awards banquet in February, but that was with a bunch of people.
Since Ella was born in January, we hadn’t managed to enjoy a nice meal just between the two of us.
The parents on the soccer team we coached (once again using that term loosely) pitched in at the end of the season and bought us a gift certificate to a decent restaurant nearby to show us their appreciation (mainly their appreciation that they didn;t have to coach).
So we convinced Brooke’s parents to take the kids for a couple of hours, and we had a date. We had conversation and we didn’t have to police anyone.
The food wasn’t quite what we’d hoped for, but I don’t think it mattered. It was the chance to eat like adults that was important.
I just hope it’s not another 10 months before we get the chance to do it again.