-XXXVI- FATHERS AND SONS I have in my wallet a Red Cross card, my blood donor card, and the record and the total amount of my donations over time. Spots of time. Squeezing a rubber ball, cookies and orange juice. It’s two...Read More
At the present moment, I am in-between projects – – stories that I write. The in-between time when I was younger, say seventy was much shorter than it is now that I’m ninety years old. Then, in retrospect, ideas...Read More
Standing in the Rathskellar with a tray in her hands, Patti Henderson was a 1964 Life Magazine vision of a college coed: red Wisconsin sweatshirt, red plaid slacks, red Keds. She was also drop dead gorgeous: sculpted face, long...Read More
My German cousin, Thomas stares at me, mouth opening and closing silently as he organizes English words in his head, “You are quite unusual. I think you live comfortably with two feet firmly hovering over two continents,” he...Read More
I live in Columbia, S.C. where my family has been actively involved in Jewish life for several generations. Thirty-two years ago, when I told them about my Christian resolve, they reacted with swift antagonism. I had crossed an...Read More
Freezing, I removed one glove, then
the other to grip the metal.
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