By TOMIE LUNSFORD
Telegram Staff Writer
It was loud yesterday evening at Lorena Taplin's house.
Her son, Ray Lee Taplin, was shot Friday - and last night, at least a hundred out-of-town relatives were milling around Mrs. Taplin's Barton Street property, trying to make sense of what happened.
The Temple police made no arrests yesterday regarding the Friday shooting on Martin Luther King Jr. Drive that resulted in the death of the 42-year-old Ray Lee Taplin. They cited self-defense as a potential reason for the shooting because of the additional weapons they found at the crime scene.
'What the police are saying ain't right,' said Mrs. Taplin. 'He didn't go over there with no weapons. That's just not the kind of person he was. My boy never bothered nobody. He wasn't mixed up in gangs and never did anyhing to disrespect nobody.'
Mrs. Taplin and her family said the incident was not accidental.
'He was called over there,' Mrs. Taplin said, referring to phone call that was made to her residence early Friday morning. 'The number is still on the Caller ID.'
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Garage sale offers all kinds of knick-knacks
By TOMIE LUNSFORD
Telegram Staff Writer
Princess Di was at the Bell County Expo Center yesterday, with an $11.50 price tag on the back of her head.
The life-size cardboard cutout of the famous royal figure was one of the garage sale items of the 14th annual fund-raising event for the Bell County Museum.
'I didn't want to sell her,' said Vanda Gardner of Gatesville, the vendor who brought Princess Di to the Expo Center. 'I just wanted to set her up to attract attention to my booth. But then my husband told me to put a tag on her. He said everyone was just going to ask how much it was.'
Telegram Staff Writer
Princess Di was at the Bell County Expo Center yesterday, with an $11.50 price tag on the back of her head.
The life-size cardboard cutout of the famous royal figure was one of the garage sale items of the 14th annual fund-raising event for the Bell County Museum.
'I didn't want to sell her,' said Vanda Gardner of Gatesville, the vendor who brought Princess Di to the Expo Center. 'I just wanted to set her up to attract attention to my booth. But then my husband told me to put a tag on her. He said everyone was just going to ask how much it was.'
Cats rule at Civic Center
By TOMIE LUNSFORD
Telegram Staff Writer
For a few hours Saturday, the Frank Mayborn Civic and Convention Center was a fully operational cathouse.
Not one run by a madam, but one full of actual cats doing tricks (legal ones) for judges.
Not that the kitties put forth too much effort. The felines just sat there while a human poked, prodded and squeezed various parts of their bodies.
'The judges look at each cat's color, softness, grooming style and skull shape,' said Judy Yearsley, owner of Celeste, a silver mackerel competing in the Persian Open portion of yesterday's cat show sponsored by the Show and Tell Cat Club. 'Health is key. If the cat doesn't feel well, then it won't be at its best.'
Telegram Staff Writer
For a few hours Saturday, the Frank Mayborn Civic and Convention Center was a fully operational cathouse.
Not one run by a madam, but one full of actual cats doing tricks (legal ones) for judges.
Not that the kitties put forth too much effort. The felines just sat there while a human poked, prodded and squeezed various parts of their bodies.
'The judges look at each cat's color, softness, grooming style and skull shape,' said Judy Yearsley, owner of Celeste, a silver mackerel competing in the Persian Open portion of yesterday's cat show sponsored by the Show and Tell Cat Club. 'Health is key. If the cat doesn't feel well, then it won't be at its best.'
Cloth may not be sewn in Wal-Mart's future
By TOMIE LUNSFORD
Telegram Staff Writer
Nobody objects to grandma's making a quilt for the new baby.
The ruckus is about where grandma's going to buy the fabric for the quilt.
On Tuesday, a sewing-loving grandma marched outside the Seguin Wal-Mart, protesting the national chain's decision to get rid of its fabric departments.
Doreen Taft was circulating a letter that said Wal-Mart's booting of the fabric department would devastate rural customers who sew. In that letter, she said with no Wal-Mart, she'd have to go to New Braunfels for fabric.
Joy Graham, a resident of rural Thorndale, said she very much agrees with Ms. Taft's stance.
'If we can't buy fabric at Wal-Mart, then residents in rural areas like Thorndale and Rockdale would have to drive 40 to 60 miles for cut fabrics,' Ms. Graham said. The lifelong recreational seamstress said they would have to drive to Round Rock, Bryan, College Station or Temple for 'cut fabrics.'
In February, Mrs. Graham started a petition that read, 'Keep fabric department in Rockdale, Wal-Mart, Texas.'
Telegram Staff Writer
Nobody objects to grandma's making a quilt for the new baby.
The ruckus is about where grandma's going to buy the fabric for the quilt.
On Tuesday, a sewing-loving grandma marched outside the Seguin Wal-Mart, protesting the national chain's decision to get rid of its fabric departments.
Doreen Taft was circulating a letter that said Wal-Mart's booting of the fabric department would devastate rural customers who sew. In that letter, she said with no Wal-Mart, she'd have to go to New Braunfels for fabric.
Joy Graham, a resident of rural Thorndale, said she very much agrees with Ms. Taft's stance.
'If we can't buy fabric at Wal-Mart, then residents in rural areas like Thorndale and Rockdale would have to drive 40 to 60 miles for cut fabrics,' Ms. Graham said. The lifelong recreational seamstress said they would have to drive to Round Rock, Bryan, College Station or Temple for 'cut fabrics.'
In February, Mrs. Graham started a petition that read, 'Keep fabric department in Rockdale, Wal-Mart, Texas.'
Monday, March 5, 2007
Sights to be seen on leisurely trip
By TOMIE LUNSFORD
Telegram Staff Writer
Up a hill, around a curve and between the limestone quarries, the train that thought it could, did.
Albeit, two hours later.
But speed wasn't the point of Sunday's 33-mile trip from Cedar Park to Burnet.
It was 'for us to be on the great big choo choo train,' said 3-year-old Megan Maddry from Harker Heights. Dressed in pink, the little girl grinned as she sat next to 'the biggest window (she'd) ever seen.'
Miss Maddry was part of 'the Temple group,' as so dubbed by Train Conductor Steve Barry.
The 50 Temple people were assigned to Rail Car A of the Hill Country Flyer, an authentic passenger train built in 1922 by the Pennsylvania Railroad Co. They had boarded the train at 10 a.m. after a bus trip from Temple to Cedar Park.
Telegram Staff Writer
Up a hill, around a curve and between the limestone quarries, the train that thought it could, did.
Albeit, two hours later.
But speed wasn't the point of Sunday's 33-mile trip from Cedar Park to Burnet.
It was 'for us to be on the great big choo choo train,' said 3-year-old Megan Maddry from Harker Heights. Dressed in pink, the little girl grinned as she sat next to 'the biggest window (she'd) ever seen.'
Miss Maddry was part of 'the Temple group,' as so dubbed by Train Conductor Steve Barry.
The 50 Temple people were assigned to Rail Car A of the Hill Country Flyer, an authentic passenger train built in 1922 by the Pennsylvania Railroad Co. They had boarded the train at 10 a.m. after a bus trip from Temple to Cedar Park.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Camera catches grin for berry soda label
By TOMIE LUNSFORD
Telegram Staff Writer
The Rosebud kindergartner doesn’t know what Fu Fu Berry Soda tastes like, but she loves the way it looks.
Six-year-old Reagan Maxfield looks at the pink drink, sees herself and then giggles. Her face is printed on the label of the Jones Soda product.
The youngster owes her soda-bottle stardom to the photographer — her 18-year-old cousin, Lynnsay Crittenden of Temple.
“The label turned out so good. I surprised myself with how good it was,” Lynnsay said. “But then again, it’s hard to take a bad picture of Reagan. She is so photogenic.”
Telegram Staff Writer
The Rosebud kindergartner doesn’t know what Fu Fu Berry Soda tastes like, but she loves the way it looks.
Six-year-old Reagan Maxfield looks at the pink drink, sees herself and then giggles. Her face is printed on the label of the Jones Soda product.
The youngster owes her soda-bottle stardom to the photographer — her 18-year-old cousin, Lynnsay Crittenden of Temple.
“The label turned out so good. I surprised myself with how good it was,” Lynnsay said. “But then again, it’s hard to take a bad picture of Reagan. She is so photogenic.”
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Locked up, not lost: Female inmates laugh for God
By TOMIE LUNSFORD
Telegram Staff Writer
A series of three locked fences led the way to the chapel.
About 150 women stood in a single-file line as they waited to pray.
Each woman wore a white jumpsuit with orange cuffs. Most of them also wore a green overcoat, for the night wind was cold.
When the clock chimed seven, armed guards issued the order for the lot of women to move.
As each woman entered the chapel, she was no longer a 'female offender,' the official term for those imprisoned at the Hilltop unit of the Gatesville prison. To the man standing on the far side of the chapel, near the Crucifix, each woman was a child of God. That man was their chaplain, Wallace Nelson.
Telegram Staff Writer
A series of three locked fences led the way to the chapel.
About 150 women stood in a single-file line as they waited to pray.
Each woman wore a white jumpsuit with orange cuffs. Most of them also wore a green overcoat, for the night wind was cold.
When the clock chimed seven, armed guards issued the order for the lot of women to move.
As each woman entered the chapel, she was no longer a 'female offender,' the official term for those imprisoned at the Hilltop unit of the Gatesville prison. To the man standing on the far side of the chapel, near the Crucifix, each woman was a child of God. That man was their chaplain, Wallace Nelson.
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