
When we lived on Green Street, I had a five-mile walking course laid out that took me up to Foothill then back down Towne to home. I would often do this route after dark. One evening as I was heading…
Read MoreWhen I was a callow youth, my sights were pretty low. I thought that I would have made it if I had a 57 Chevy – you know the one, with the fins and all that chrome. That and a…
Read MoreIn most dysfunctional families, various members fill different functions. There is the identified “problem,” the drama revolves around. A supportive cast is the enablers, the deniers, a co-addict, maybe a family clown, and if fortunate for all, a realist. I…
Read MoreHow many of us boys early on got the message that big boys don’t cry? And just who told us that? In our house feelings were not allowed, certainly not tears. I still vividly remember the time Grandpa died. He…
Read MoreThere’s a story told of several monks at evening vespers that gives insight into the spirituality of each order they represent. One is a Franciscan, another Dominican and finally, a Jesuit. As they begin, the lights go out. In darkness…
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