Lew K. Cohn column

By Lew K. Cohn

Managing Editor

They say you can't go back home again, but this past weekend, I did.

I went back to Henry S. Jacobs Camp in Utica, Mississippi, this past Friday, March 17, for the first time in 30 years for my cousin Savannah Garst's Bat Mitzvah celebration. The last time I had been at Jacobs Camp, I was an awkward 16-year-old teenage counselor-in-training, or CIT.

Jacobs Camp was a formative place in my youth. It was a home away from home for four weeks every summer, from third grade to eighth grade, and again as a senior when I became a staff member.

By Lew K. Cohn

Managing Editor

The Highlander

The decision to put my dog down was the hardest decision I have ever had to make. My wife Betty came to my office Monday, Sept. 19, and told me that Sydney had been coughing and struggling to rest all night. That morning, she had coughed up some blood and things looked very bleak for her health.

Sydney, after all, was more than 13 years old. She suffered from cardiomegaly (an enlarged heart) and congestive heart failure. Just about six weeks ago, we had to rush her to Austin to the 24-hour emergency clinic because she was having a hard time breathing.