I was eighteen years old the first time I visited Old Joe, Arkansas. I was a guest of our pastor’s family, whose son had caught… ( Read More )
’till death (or diving) do us part…
Thirty years ago today, at precisely eleven o’clock, I stood next to my father at the back of a small country chapel. We walked the… ( Read More )
what we leave within….
“I wish I could talk to your Dad.” This as we watched the History Channel, eating a late dinner. Â The program topic was the Vietnam… ( Read More )