Fifteen years ago, I wrote a column that I came to regret as soon as it was published.

Whenever I hear someone say proudly that he has no regrets in life, a string of regrets run through my heart and quickly humbles me (‘umbles as we say in the mountains).

What I wrote, hurt at least a couple of people and angered others. “Pride goeth before destruction,” saith the good book so all I need to do is think of that column and all pride slithers out of my body.

It is never my intent to hurt someone with my words. I view this column as an opportunity to uplift a fallen and saddened world. It’s a privilege I take seriously. For most 21 years, I have succeeded. But that column, meant to be funny, fell short.

I wrote it after a couple of months in which I had met movie star, Tom Cruise, country

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