Max McCoy

2 months ago | kansasreflector.com | Max McCoy

On Kansas Day in 1925, a 19-year-old farm girl named Vada Watson was whisked to the White House to present President Calvin Coolidge with a tiny sack of wheat. Her mission? To proclaim Kansas wheat the best in the world. Kansas Day is just around the corner — Wednesday, Jan. 29, the date in 1861 Kansas was admitted to the Union — so let me turn your attention from the cacophony of current events and dwell, if only for a little while, with Vada’s story.

Jan 19, 2025 | kansasreflector.com | Max McCoy

While we’ve been distracted by the shambles that is American presidential politics, there’s been a change happening in our own backyards that may have a more lasting effect than who is sworn into the Oval Office on Monday. That change is the partisanship leaching into local elections from the open-air market of national party politics. The politicization of school boards began by 2020, when some parents became activists against pandemic-era remote classes and mask mandates.

Jan 12, 2025 | kansasreflector.com | Max McCoy

by Max McCoy, Kansas Reflector January 12, 2025 You know when the winter country has arrived in Kansas because the sky at midday is a shade of blue that throbs with light but no warmth. The shameless trees are studded with diamonds that flare in the sunlight, the long grass is matted with snow, and the geese are lords of the frozen fields. The very ground sends a chill right up through your boots to squeeze your spirit in a grip that makes you long for the golden days of summer.

Jan 5, 2025 | kansasreflector.com | Max McCoy

When Peter Ninemire was freed by presidential clemency from a federal prison where he was serving a 27-year sentence on drug charges, it was widely hailed as just the way such executive actions should work. If anybody deserved the presidential “prerogative of mercy,” as defined by the Supreme Court, it was Ninemire.

Dec 22, 2024 | kansasreflector.com | Max McCoy

WICHITA — James Murray sits cross-legged on the sidewalk and regards his surroundings with piercing blue eyes set in a face scrubbed by the elements. He blinks and ponders the question I’ve just asked. Where are you going to sleep tonight? It’s Sunday afternoon, a week and a half before Christmas, and although the temperature has climbed into the 60s, the cold of the night before clings to the sidewalk and the buildings like a bad dream.