I know this kid named Oz. He’s from Honduras. One of the finest young men I’ve ever known. A good, solid, honest and decent and trustworthy man. At one point in his life he was “illegal,” he’s now … [Read more...] about Immigrants
Author Notes
Time…
Abandoned train stations, old barns, houses like this write their own stories. How fast did the fall come. On one hour, on one day, did one single event cause everything that once was solid and … [Read more...] about Time…
Time…
There is no laughter like the laughter shared with an old friend, with your oldest and longest running friend. The guy that's been there with you through it all, with you and for you every step of the … [Read more...] about Time…
The Myth and the Underbelly
This is not to diminish the horrible story of that twenty-two year old woman whose death has become something of a national obsession; I’m in offices all day, many have cable news on wall-mounted TVs. … [Read more...] about The Myth and the Underbelly
My Hometown
My hometown was a small city in the north and it always felt like mid-October. A place in-between, like summer just passed and winter not quite yet come, an odd and often uncomfortable twilight. A … [Read more...] about My Hometown
Trainsmoke
The summer always ended on his porch, the neighbor, Harry McCabe, down the dirt path dead-end by the water. Feet up on the surrounding stone and cement wall, leaning back in the kitchen chairs we’d … [Read more...] about Trainsmoke
I’m watching the talking heads justifying everything about Afghanistan. Words about war and deaths and trillions spent and the twin towers and September 11, and Osama Bin-Ladin, and the Soviets, and … [Read more...] about
Weeds
It’s the way the rain dripped off the leaves on the summer morning after the evening’s thunderstorm, and the big and small puddles filled with worms and the way the air smelled clean again. The early … [Read more...] about Weeds
