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David Cook

Stories by David

One of the most powerful rituals in our society is the burial ceremony of a veteran.

My son has his own houndstooth hat, for crying out loud.

Somewhere inside the Central Office, there is a multiyear strategy to alter — dramatically — the health insurance plans for all Hamilton County public school teachers and employees.

This morning, there's no breakfast.

During an otherwise pleasant evening, we stood up from the kitchen table, took our plates to the sink, walked outside and then -- as if this sort of thing was normal -- dumped five-gallon buckets of ice water all over our heads.

On the morning school was canceled, Henry Webb's mom did not tell him the whole truth.

Aaron Roden broke so much.

It was too soon for him to die.

TCAP scores arrived in the mailbox this week, so now I'm doing the only reasonable thing a parent can do.

The future ain't what it used to be. — Yogi Berra

By now, you’ve probably heard of Helen Burns Sharp. Lots of folks have.

But don’t you understand?

You know, this is how "The Walking Dead" started.

Thursday, when so many things merge together.

Here's a lawyer joke you haven't heard.

Two years ago this week, an 84-year-old nun, a carpenter and a Vietnam veteran committed an act of civil disobedience so jarring that history may one day judge it as the most compellingly influential since Rosa Parks.

On Tuesday, we had the fastest Internet on the planet. We were Dale Jr. on fiber optics; everybody else, the Ingalls family.

Pardon me boys, is that a new Chattanooga Choo Choo?

You're ordering the banana pancakes, and the guy out in the parking lot is ordering two ounces of cocaine.

My little girl was nervous. Like two outs, Game 7 nervous.

The good news is that VW will build its SUV here, adding an estimated 5,600 more jobs -- direct and indirect -- to the region.

It is one thing for me to criticize Tennessee's new gun law, which allows almost anyone and everyone to now carry a loaded firearm -- shotgun, rifle or handgun -- in their car.

I don't like resignation letters. Never have.

Forget Argentina. You want somebody to root for?

It's been almost a year and City Hall still cannot produce any official report on the $7 million spent on its budgeting for outcomes pilot program.

Dirtiest city.

Here's the version of the question that the city wants to appear on the Aug. 7 ballot.

Nine weeks ago, Brother Ron Fender and I drove out to Ruth Cofer Cemetery, the 42-acre plot off Jenkins Road where our county buries its poor and homeless.

It's been nearly a month since the arrest of Richard Bennett, the founder of A Better Tomorrow.

Watching World Cup soccer feels like a third date.

They called her a sweathog pig.

Coty Allen wasn't at the ceremony on Thursday, when the doctors and nurses cheered for him, saying to anyone who would listen: We've never had a patient like him.

Earlier this month, Mayor Andy Berke proclaimed June 2014 as Gun Violence Awareness Month. As far as proclamations go, this one's a jewel.

Inside her Koch's Bakery, Barbara Davis has a petition with 500 signatures on it. The thing is 35 pages long.

As he got out of the car, Tom Kunesh's heart was pounding, and he wondered to himself: Am I about to die?

Barbara Davis was behind the glass counter at Koch's Bakery earlier this week when the city government's sign inspector walked in. He wasn't there for eclairs. As Davis remembers it, their conversation went like this:

OBEY YOUR CONSCIENCE. -- Bob Bergdahl, in an email to his son.

Somewhere in the tallest trees in the greenest forests within our very own Tennessee River Gorge, there lives a most magnificent bird: the Cerulean warbler.

Let's begin with a few numbers.

Evil is unspectacular and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our own table. -- W. H. Auden

If I owned the Lookouts, the first thing I'd do would be to have Frank Burke Night.

Not Richard Bennett.

Let sincere white individuals find all other white people they can who feel as they do.

This woman named Donna doesn't have two nickels to rub together, but all she can talk about is her friend Carl, who doesn't even have one.

The story goes that a cleaning lady in Italy was tidying up the modern art museum and spotted what she thought were pieces of rubbish on the floor. So she sweeps them up and tosses them out.

Never again will I refer to Chris Anderson as our city’s first openly gay councilman.

This is not about alcohol.

In August 2013, the city dipped its toes in the water, reserving a smidgen from last year's budget — $7 million — for a pilot, practice-run at budgeting for outcomes.

One evening not long ago, eight of us -- strangers, mostly -- sat down together to discuss one of the most confused and emotional topics of our time: guns.

Pretend you're a nurse at Erlanger.

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