The following column was taken from the February 10, 1977, edition of The News, written by Mr. Charlie Walker.

Bill DuPre, fiery editor of The News, not content with capturing seven awards for his crusading weekly, is already started on next year. His use of the word “curmudgeon” to describe yours truly just may win him the virgin vocabulary award from the South Carolina Press Association.
Do you realize if it wasn’t for the word “ain’t,” Williamsburg wouldn’t have any vocabulary at all? Seven awards. Go ahead and count ‘em. How sweet it is. After hearing the news, I had to have my ears treated for diabetes. Bill DuPre doesn’t look like an editor is supposed to look. An editor is supposed to look like Humphrey Bogart. Bill looks like one of the Fonz’s buddies from “Happy Days.” Bill doesn’t even act like an editor. I’ve never heard him scream “Stop the presses!” I have heard him say “Stop the bellyaching.”
But all the awards The News won didn’t attract near as much attention as that word. One lady from Greeleyville called the paper and said she didn’t know what the word meant, but if it meant what it sounded like, Bill DuPre needed to be born again. Some redneck from Central inquired as to whether the health department was going to immunize his hogs against curmudgeon. Bill can’t say he wasn’t warned. If I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a hundred times: We only use words around here with over four letters when the occasion calls for some raunchy rhetoric.
Things haven’t changed much in Williamsburg. I remember when artificial insemination was first introduced in the county. One farmer from Hebron told the county agent, Bob Johnston, he intended to try it out on his herd. But he couldn’t get the cows to roll up their sleeves.
And our special congratulations to our own Pollyanna. Pretty Polly Wright did it again. The News’ Brenda Starr made it to the Super Bowl for the second year in a row. It’s unfortunate that in spite of all her talent, Polly still has the skeleton in her closet. She’s married to the Archie Ellis of the automobile business.
I think it’s entirely appropriate that I throw a few verbal bouquets to my wife Peggy and my son Chuck as well as my tomcat Hound T, and of course all of the politicians for the ammunition they provided for these columns. Otherwise, I would have probably filled up this space with my favorite recipe for ice water of perhaps delved into the world of theology. For example, I’m sure you’ve given serious thought as to what might happen if the devil got saved and all the preachers were suddenly out of a job. The reason that I’ve written more about my cat than I have about my wife is because of the safety factors involved. The cat has nine lives. Mrs. Reklaw’s husband does not.
As we gratefully acknowledge the applause for all of the awards, what about Cathy McConnell, semi-fiery assistant publisher of the Georgetown Times? Cathy doesn’t look like a publisher either. Cathy, who in the long ago was editor of The News. Without Cathy, there would not have been a “Bark Off the King’s Tree.” And this just might be the best argument for capital punishment that’s been brought forward. Cathy was also instrumental in providing the help and encouragement for Polly Wright, whose features in The News are worth the price of the paper. Also, Cathy can be proud of the award presented to Ethlyn Missroon of The Georgetown Times, who was named South Carolina Newspaperwoman of the Year. All we can say, Cathy, is two out of three ain’t bad.
In retrospect, the only fault we can find with Cathy is that she’s hung up on women’s lib. It was she who thundered in one of her editorials for the ERA, “Male chauvinism runs rampant in the mortician profession. All they want is our bodies!”
As for the other members of The News staff, who didn’t win any wards, without them there would be no newspaper. They are all part of the team.
A few years ago, when George Romney made a visit to Williamsburg County as the top man in the Federal Housing Authority, he and the other Washington bureaucrats strutted around the county like peacocks with their feathers starched. I guess the entire visit lasted less than 12 hours, but during this time, they were able to assess all of Williams-burg County’s problems. Which they appropriately deplored for the whole world through the eyes of a TV camera. They came to the startling conclusion that we were poor. Big Deal. Williamsburg was broke before New York City discovered it and made it fashionable. Sometimes I feel like Williamsburg is Wiley Coyote and the news media are the Road Runner. But for a brief moment the sun will shine. Friday, Feb. 25, in Columbia when The News accepts its awards. It will be one of the few times Williamsburg Coun-ty got something that didn’t come from HEW or some other department of the federal government.