As Father’s Day approaches, and as my last column in this newspaper before I change careers, I’d like to share one of my favorite poems by Dee Groberg.

“Man is a creature of hope and invention, both of which belie the idea that things cannot be changed.” — Author Tom Clancy

Under command of Captain Briggs, the ship Mary Celeste docked on New York City’s East River on November 5, 1872, and took on board a cargo of 1,701 barrels of commercial alcohol. The spirits were intended for fortifying wine in Italy.

May 14, 1988, marks the anniversary of the Carrollton bus crash that killed 27 people when a drunk driver went the wrong way down Interstate 71 and struck a church bus. Twenty-four of the victims were children.

I was recently shopping at a local small business where the owners have a sign posted that says, “Masks required,” with a footnote explaining that they are trying to protect at-risk staff and customers.

On a windy, rainy day a few years ago my wife and I found paper money smearing across the windshield of our vehicle.

In 2002, American writer Margaret J. Wheatley wrote, “There is no power for change greater than a community discovering what it cares about... In our daily life, we encounter people who are angry, deceitful, intent only on satisfying their own needs. There is so much anger, distrust, greed and pettiness that we are losing our capacity to work well together.”

When I was young, an author named L. Tom Perry shared a story that later played a role in my choices about giving and taking offense.

On this Easter morning Christians around the world celebrate what some hoped would be forgotten.

Two men were out on the ocean in a boat.

I’d like to personally congratulate Prescott fifth-grader Aliyah Alpert for winning the 75th annual Yavapai County Spelling Bee for the third year in a row.

A number of years ago there was a man who worked at my office that everyone loved. For this story I’ll call him James.

I was recently asked why I do not write columns about politics or politicians. The fact is I do, but not in a traditional manner.

Thanksgiving 2020 may taste bittersweet for many of us who have been impacted by the pandemic or felt distressed by violence, racism, political tensions and what feels like a growing lack of civility.

When I was a young boy my grandfather Ralph told me a story — a story he had told my mother when she was young, which my mother also repeated to me on several occasions.

When I was a young man, I joined the military a few years after high school.

I recently came across a screenshot of a social media post that told of an interesting high school classroom teaching experience.

A man feared his wife wasn’t hearing as well as she used to, and he thought she might need a hearing aid. Not quite sure how to approach her, he called the family doctor to discuss the problem. The doctor told him there is a simple, informal test the husband could perform to give the doctor a better idea about her hearing loss.

During this election cycle there has been an increase in the propagation of conspiracy theories designed to embed doubt, spread fear and influence voters.

The story is told of Samuel Shapira, a distinguished rabbi who lived in the Polish village of Prochnik in the 1930s. Rabbi Shapira was in the habit of taking long walks into the countryside each morning. Throughout his life, the rabbi tried to be loving and compassionate. He made it a point to greet everyone he met with a kind “hello,” “good morning” or “good evening.”

Like many of you, I am growing ever more disappointed by the divisiveness that permeates our society, elevated by bad behavior from certain politicians, commentators, leaders and the people who support them.

On Saturday, Aug. 1, my wife and I attended a virtual, live-streamed funeral of a friend, a lovely older woman from Dewey who died from COVID-19.

In the grim darkness of the night, during a heavy rainstorm many years ago, a ship was discovered in distress just off the coast of Holland. A rowboat went out to rescue the crew. The waves were enormous, and each of the men at the oars had to give all his strength and energy to reach the unfortunate sailors.

Last week I received a letter from a retired caregiver who lives in Prescott. She was a practicing, registered nurse for 50 years. Oh, the stories she could tell.

The story is told of a Hindu merchant who dreamed one night that he had died. To his bewilderment, he found himself standing in a large room, entirely bare of furnishings.

Years ago, when I was running another Arizona newspaper, we published a story about a boy who lost half his hand playing with fireworks.

When I was young I met a girl who told me I used the word “hate” far too often in my everyday conversations.

Almost everywhere I turn, I see young mothers struggling to raise their children alone.

This column is about four words I hope my children will never use.

I remember watching the 1999 MTV Music Video Awards when something surprising happened that has left a memory more than 18 years later – something I didn’t expect to ever see on anything associated with MTV.

At the airport after a grueling business trip a woman’s return flight was delayed.

View additional Ability and Accountability blog entries and columns by Richard Haddad.