Ladies and gentlemen, in our recent discourse, we’ve examined the life and times of the Barrere boys in the newspaper business. In the 1880s, Col. George Washington Barrere (1831-1913), a Civil War veteran, bought a pair of Highland County newspapers and merged them to form the Hillsboro News-Herald.

Ladies and gentlemen, in our recent discourse, we’ve examined the life and times of the Barrere boys in the newspaper business. In the 1880s, Col. George Washington Barrere (1831-1913), a Civil War veteran, bought a pair of Highland County newspapers and merged them to form the Hillsboro News-Herald.

Ladies and gentlemen, to me at least, there’s something nostalgic, almost romantic, about a family running a business for seven decades – but that’s exactly what the Barrere family in Hillsboro did beginning more than a century ago.

Ladies and gentlemen, let’s pause belatedly for an important public service announcement. Do you know the Highland House Museum has a library? Don’t feel bad. I didn’t know there was one, either, until fairly recently – and I’m vice chairman of the Highland County Historical Society’s Board of Trustees.

Ladies and gentlemen, let’s pause belatedly for an important public service announcement. Do you know the Highland House Museum has a library? Don’t feel bad. I didn’t know there was one, either, until fairly recently – and I’m vice chairman of the Highland County Historical Society’s Board of Trustees.

George Washington Barrere was born Dec. 21, 1831 and grew up in the New Market area. By the way, New Market was the county seat of Highland County before Hillsboro, which was called Hillsborough back in the day.

I had the pleasure of meeting Sally Barrere over the weekend. I’ve known of Sally for years, and we’re relatives. As you may or may not recall, I wrote a series on the Barrere family a while back, and meant to see it all the way through, but got swept away by the Temperance Movement that swept through Hillsboro in the 1870s.

I met my “Ole Betsy” in 1992, and it was love at first sight. Dad bought her off of his boss for $1,200, if memory serves, and she had low miles, a 3.8 liter V6 engine and was a sharp burgundy inside and out. This was the first car I had ever driven where when I stepped on the gas, she would “get up and go.” And she came into my life at perhaps the perfect time.

More than six decades ago, the landmark Brown v. Board of Education case declared school segregation unconstitutional, but a group of mothers, the Lincoln Mothers, had to take matters into their own hands to fight for school integration in the city of Hillsboro. They decided to march – for two whole years.

More than six decades ago, the landmark Brown v. Board of Education case declared school segregation unconstitutional, but a group of mothers, the Lincoln Mothers, had to take matters into their own hands to fight for school integration in the city of Hillsboro. They decided to march – for two whole years.

Helen Drusilla Blackburn Hoover was born and raised in Greenfield, graduated from McClain High School, then blazed a trail through the wilderness. She authored seven books and numerous articles on nature and the wilderness during her 74 years on this earth, and on May 27, she will be enshrined in the Highland County Historical Society Hall of Fame.

Helen Drusilla Blackburn Hoover was born and raised in Greenfield, graduated from McClain High School, then blazed a trail through the wilderness. She authored seven books and numerous articles on nature and the wilderness during her 74 years on this earth, and on May 27, she will be enshrined in the Highland County Historical Society Hall of Fame.

Ladies and gentlemen, when we left the old Strange Cemetery last week, my great-great-great-uncle Dr. Sigel Roush was chatting about his late father, George Roush, and the family’s trusty rifle, “Long Tom.” The old Doc recalled the shooting matches he and his brothers would have with their father and how even into his 70s, old George would usually emerge the victor over his sons.

Ladies and gentlemen, the ice and snow have vanished in the old Strange Cemetery and have been replaced by sunshine, green grass – and my great-great-great-uncle, Dr. Sigel Roush, who has been dead since 1954 and has been in repose in the Barnes Cemetery in Fairview about a mile or so away. Well, except he isn’t in repose just now, is he? At this point, I’d rather not go over and look.

Ladies and gentlemen, a biting wind blows and the icy grass crunches under foot on a cold winter’s day in the Strange Cemetery. Icicles cling to some of the monuments in that old graveyard, which is really not as strange as its name. After walking a rather short distance on a rather dreary day, an old tombstone appears of George Roush, a pioneer of the Russell Station area and my great-great-great-grandfather.