Thoughts from the Blue Ridge

Thoughts from the Blue Ridge

The time, the Walrus said, to speak of many things. I write more than I speak and most of what I have written about for more than five decades concerns politics, most often about the failure of the political system that drives and — I believe — is...
Dad

Dad

Father’s Day is always bittersweet. My father died when I was nine months old, a victim of an industrial accident where he worked in Tampa, Florida. My only memories of my father came from a box of photos and stories told by my mother. My father existed as an...