The Life in My Years

An anthology of life

The City doesn’t beckon us back; we simply waiver and then cave.  And so a few short months later I’d fallen in love again.  That’s how it goes.  It’s love/hate/love. 

You passed them by as they left and you looked the other way, awkward, nothing to say.  They were already gone, ghosts who’s memories haunted the productions lines.

In April of 1869 a fire broke out at the 800 foot level of the Yellow Jacket Mine killing at least 35 miners

The American West had a mind to be heartless; a place, a time and a life that didn’t discriminate when it came to the taking of life.

In life they lived hard and in death they repose in the hard land.

A lucky miner won what was apparently the sum of a saloon keeper’s worldly possessions. As a result the saloon keeper reportedly opted for the next world.

Once you step through the gates of the cemetery you enter a different world. It’s a stark place populated with monuments colored in doleful shades of gray, many cracked, broken and in varying stages of disrepair.

In the midst of the gaiety of Quebec City’s Rue St. Jean sits a historic old cemetery in the shadow of an old Anglican Church.

Every September the crack of the bat and pop of ball on leather are replaced by the hawking of chili and the admiring murmurs of car aficionados; it’s the annual Chili Cook Off and Car Show.

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