By: Keith Kappes
Columnist
Carter County Times

The outsiders brought to Washington to slash foreign aid in the federal

budget in the name of ending fraud, waste and abuse apparently have never heard the phrase “waste not, want not.”

They likewise must not have read or heard the Biblical reference in John 6:12 where Jesus instructed his disciples not to waste the leftover fragments of food after the miracle of feeding the 5,000 with five loaves of bread and two fishes.

But even more significantly for the Trump Administration, the new folks in charge at the State Department must not be aware that President Trump is personally pressuring Israel to allow more food supplies into Gaza and for them to stop killing the starving Palestinians fighting over the food trucks.

I raise these questions because the Washington Post reported last Sunday that more than 60,000 metric tons of food – already paid for with American tax dollars – currently is stored in warehouses in the United States and around the world. And some of that food is expiring every day while tens of thousands of men, women and children are dying of starvation in Africa and the Middle East.

The manufacturer, Mana Nutrition, has warehouses packed with peanut paste, a critical element in treating malnutrition. The company has been paid $50 million for the food. They say it could still help 60 million persons, especially children who are most at risk.

Why is this travesty happening?  The company’s chief operating officer gave this chilling response:  “This is agiant glut. All contracted. All bought and paid for. It’s just not been picked up.”

The political hacks recruited by Elon Musk and other fiscal amateurs in DOGE were in such a rush to dismantle the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) that they didn’t leave enough staff to get the already-purchased food shipped to where it was needed.

This situation makes as much sense as purchasing a week’s groceries and then throwing the loaded bags into a dumpster without eating a bite.

            All of us should be troubled by this question:  How does letting poor people starve to death help make America great again?

            Contact Keith at keithkappes@gmail.com.

By: Tommy Druen
Guest Columnist

In 1983, at six years old, I fell in love. That was when my Uncle Billy gave me a pack of Fleer baseball cards—my first.

At that point, I’d never watched a full baseball game. Maybe I’d caught bits and pieces when my dad or grandfather had one on, but that was it. Still, I devoured those cards as if I’d uncovered sacred texts. I studied every detail on the back, absorbing them like scripture.

That same year, I played t-ball for the first time. I remember my dad taking me to Heck’s department store to buy a glove. Whether by choice or fate, I came home with a Rawlings bearing the signature of Ryne Sandberg.

The name leapt out—I knew it as one of the 15 cards I now cherished. I already knew the essentials: 6’1”, 190 pounds, from Spokane, Washington. High school football standout. Third baseman for the Chicago Cubs.

I couldn’t have found Chicago on a map, and likely didn’t even know what a Cub was. But I had a favorite player—and therefore, a team.

I’d love to say I played like Sandberg. However, in my undistinguished athletic career, baseball may have been my weakest link. By age 11, I had moved on from playing and wouldn’t return until age 43. Still, my affection for the game endured. You don’t need to play something well to love it deeply.

Back then, rural Kentucky offered little in the way of television—usually just three channels. But at some point, WGRB, a small UHF station out of Campbellsville, joined the Reds television network. This led to many of my friends being Reds fans. Others, who lived in town and had cable, watched the Braves on TBS. And while I would sometimes tune in to WGRB on the black and white set in my room, my loyalty didn’t wane. I stuck with the Cubs.

I admired plenty of players—Andre Dawson, Mark Grace, Shawon Dunston—but it was always about Sandberg.

In 1991, the world opened up more: my parents bought a satellite dish. For a kid raised on a metaphorical diet of beans and rice, it felt I had discovered a buffet. That summer, I discovered Welcome Back, Kotter, Short Attention Span Theater, and Canadian television. But most importantly, I found WGN—the home of the Chicago Cubs.

I loved everything about it: the ivy-covered walls of Wrigley Field, the fans atop buildings on Waveland Avenue, and the always-inebriated Harry Caray gleefully mangling the names of Hispanic players. But above all, I loved watching my guy, Ryne Sandberg, playing second base with quiet excellence.

The Cubs were rarely contenders. But Sandberg was always steady. He wasn’t flashy. He wasn’t making SportsCenter’s top plays. But he was dependable, precise, and dignified.

He once said, “In baseball, there’s always the next day.” It’s a quote that speaks to the rhythm of the game—but also to life itself. Sandberg embodied that idea. He didn’t demand attention; he earned respect. Even when the team faltered, he was unshaken.

On September 21, 1997, two Cubs legends exited the stage. Sandberg retired, and Caray called his final game. Sandberg was 38—old for a ballplayer, though now I know, still a young man. I’ve enjoyed plenty of baseball since, but I can’t deny something within me dimmed that day.

Sandberg’s career didn’t end there. He managed in the minors for close to a decade. In 2010, when Lou Piniella stepped down, he was considered for the Cubs managerial job. I still think it was a mistake they passed him over. He later managed the Phillies for a few seasons, but it never seemed right seeing him in another uniform.

On July 28th, the man who unknowingly led me—and many of my generation—into a lifelong love of baseball died at 65 after a battle with prostate cancer. Just like when he retired, that age doesn’t feel far away anymore.

And just like in 1997, I feel like another small piece of me is gone.

Of course, Sandberg wasn’t perfect—none of us are. But to me, he was something close. He represented stability, discipline, and grace in an era of flash. I’ll always remember sitting on the floor as a six-year-old, flipping over that card, and being mesmerized. 

Rest in peace, Ryno. Thank you—for the game, the joy, and the memory of what it felt like to fall in love with baseball.

By Dr. Amit Arwindekar, Medical Director at UnitedHealthcare Global

With summer in full swing, many Kentuckians may be planning a vacation. While some prefer a staycation, 86% of Americans plan to travel out of state and 50% plan to travel internationally.

Everyone hopes their trip will go smoothly, but more than 1 in 4 Americans report getting sick or hurt on a vacation and 56% needed medical treatment as a result. To help you prioritize a healthy and safe trip, consider these tips:

Check-in with your primary care doctor before traveling. Schedule an appointment with your doctor prior to your vacation. During your visit, inform your doctor of your travel plans to see how best to support your health while traveling, including getting any recommended or required vaccinations. Before leaving, refill any prescriptions you might need while away and pack enough to last your entire trip. Check travel health information and recent travel notices for destinations abroad so you know what to expect when you arrive.

If you haven’t had an annual wellness exam and preventive screenings recently, this may be a good time to make sure you are on top of any health concerns. Health plans usually cover preventive care, which means you may pay $0 out of pocket for certain covered preventive services if you go to a network provider.

You may also consider options like virtual visits for non-emergency care. Virtual visits may be both cost-effective and more convenient. Talk to your health plan and doctor about virtual care options that might be available to you while traveling. Virtual care may help you quickly and affordably access needed care with a network provider while on the road.

Pack properly and make sure you have enough essentials. Prior to leaving home, check the weather at your destination and pack accordingly. Prepare a travel health kit with essentials like hand sanitizer, over-the-counter medications, sunscreen and bug spray. Remember to pack important items like prescription medications in your carry-on luggage in the event of an emergency, or if your checked bags get lost during travel.

Take care of your health during your vacation. Physical activity may help reduce stress and promote well-being. Plan to incorporate some form of activity during your vacation, such as sightseeing walks, bike rides or daytime hikes. To help avoid dehydration, carry a water bottle and refill it throughout the day. Also, make sure to wear and reapply sunscreen to protect your skin and use bug spray to keep yourself safe from bug bites.

Prepare for possible jet lag. Data shows that 60-70% of long-distance travelers may experience some form of jet lag. Preparing for time changes and getting good sleep prior to travel may help reduce symptoms of jet lag. Make sure to drink lots of water. At your destination, soak in the sunlight as this may help reset your internal clock to help promote better sleep, which may be key to reducing jet lag and supporting your immune system.

Consider travel medical insurance and travel protection. Accidents happen.That’s why it’s important to be prepared for the unexpected. That may include making sure you have health coverage while you’re away, which may help you avoid major costs in the event of an accident or sudden illness. If you plan to travel, check with your health plan to see what coverage you may have at your destination — especially if you’re traveling internationally as many health plans may not cover medical expenses while abroad.

These tips may help you stay on top of your health so you can enjoy a worry-free vacation and return home reenergized.

By: Keith Kappes
Columnist
Carter County Times

A terminally ill friend told me many years ago that the toughest part of dying was finding the courage to keep on living with a positive attitude while emotionally preparing for his own death.

            To be honest, at the time I wasn’t sure I understood what that statement really meant, and I might have teased my old Army buddy about becoming some kind of deathbed philosopher. 

But, in my heart of hearts, I wondered to myself if I could muster that kind of courage in the face of certain death within a specified timeframe.

Then and now, I couldn’t imagine anything more depressing that being told your illness or injury were incurable and it was time to put your legal affairs in order and prepare your friends and family for the inevitable parting.

My friend’s statement has resurfaced in my mind several times in the ensuing years as I’ve experienced the loss of family members, friends and even casual acquaintances.

Last week I went to the funeral of a man I had known and admired for several years because of his consistently positive outlook on life, his sunny, outgoing personality and the fact that he had lived in a nursing home for more than 25 years without wallowing in self-pity.

He lost his life to one of those degenerative muscle diseases that eventually destroys vital organs. It progressed slowly and surely, but he kept right on with his religious activities, with being thoughtful of others, and constantly advocating on behalf of his fellow patients.

He was only in his mid-50’s, but I suspect he got more personal satisfaction out of life on a daily basis than many of us who have lived much longer and been healthier.

In closing, I tip my hat to whomever said that we all should live our lives in such a manner that even the undertaker would be sad to see us go.

Contact Keith at keithkappes@gmail.com.

                                    ####

By Brandon LaVoie

I didn’t vote for Trump because I loved the man. I voted for him because I have a wife and three sons to protect. And last week, I found out the man who murdered a 15-year-old boy in Morehead had been working in a restaurant where my family ate.

That boy’s name was Luis Jocsan Nuñez Lopez. His mother was being attacked. Luis stepped in to protect her, and he was shot and killed. His mother was brutally assaulted. Both of them got pulled into something they never asked for, and their lives were shattered.

The man accused of doing it, Gildardo Amador‑Martinez, was in this country illegally. Not once. Not twice. Three times. According to federal reports, he crossed the border illegally, was deported, and came back. Then, he came back again. And still, he ended up here, in our state, serving food in a public business like nothing ever happened.

I’ve got three kids. My wife and I work long days trying to build something honest. We eat cheap meals when we can. We support local restaurants. We trust that if someone’s behind the counter, they were cleared to be there. We trusted that system.

That trust is gone.

This isn’t about race. This isn’t about politics. This is about a fifteen-year-old boy who should still be alive, and a mother who will never be the same. This is about our families getting exposed to danger because people in charge are more concerned with being called intolerant than being held accountable.

Let me be clear. We don’t need lectures on tolerance. We need accountability. We need action. And we need it now.

The people of eastern Kentucky are generous. If you come here hungry and honest, we’ll feed you. If you show up looking for work and you’re willing to earn your place, we’ll stand beside you. But if you sneak past the line, lie your way in, and hurt one of our own, we will not stay quiet.

Our town isn’t just mourning a boy. We’re mourning the truth that it took this incident for anyone to admit the system’s broken. How many others have come through the cracks? How many more families will sit down for dinner, unaware of the danger standing in the back of the kitchen?

I didn’t vote for a party. I voted for protection. I voted because this is personal. And now I’m writing because this is unforgivable.

We are done being told we’re hateful for wanting to know who’s walking into our communities. We are done pretending this is someone else’s problem. Luis wasn’t just a victim. He was us. He was what we fight for. And we’ll carry his name forward, not with hashtags, but with action.

And to every politician who looks the other way, your time is up. You’ll either protect our children, or you’ll be replaced by the ones who will.