From the slave trade to the evils of the men we’ve put on pedestals to the Civil War, the Ku Klux Klan, Jim Crow, Rodney King and on to George Floyd how can we possibly say with a national straight face that “We are better than this?” No we are not better than this. This is who we are.
Mid-May is past and we’re plunging right into the heart of summer, that time when a schoolboy’s thoughts, in this case grandson Jackson, turns to summer vacation. He hasn’t seen the inside of a classroom in a little over two months but he’s still looking forward to the end of the Zoom Meetings; 45 minutes …
It was called Decoration Day when I was a child. When first coined, the name reflected the day’s original purpose as stated by General John A. Logan, who led an organization for Northern Civil War Veterans. “The 30th of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers, or otherwise decorating the graves …
We don’t know when we can get off the ropes or what our counterpunch is going to be. We have capable, dedicated men and women working on that counterpunch.
We’re just beginning week four in lockdownland in the Bay Area. The imminent Doctor Brix, one of the few rational voices on the Trump coronavirus team has strongly advised people to stay away from the grocery store and pharmacy over the next two weeks and I’ve taken it to heart. I’m limiting trips from the …
Another breath of viral free air to celebrate the beauty of America with some favorite images of mine (some previously posted in earlier pieces). Maine. Our time in Maine last summer was unfortunately cut short when Cora became seriously ill and we had to fly home. During the few days that we spent in Maine …
While the shock is mostly over, for some the dust will never settle. For some January 26, 2020 will be with them forever, a lifelong remembering of where they were when they heard the news.
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.
With the approach of Thanksgiving dad’s combativeness withdrew, replaced by a light in his eye and a spark in his spirit.
The Life in My Years 