Every Father’s Day since my father passed away in 2009, I reflect about his love of reading. Typically a football, basketball or baseball game blared on the television as a sort of background music while he was deeply immersed in either a paperback mystery or, more likely, a thick historical novel or biography. It was
I don’t want to write about death. I especially don’t want to write about the violent shooting deaths of two teens. I’d rather not meditate on the grief of those teens’ parents, or step into the thoughts and questions I can only guess are spinning through their minds. The what-ifs and whys. Particularly the whys.
As we prepare for the long holiday weekend, I am eager to erase from memory the pictures of violence from this week’s local, national and international news. Yet I can’t stop thinking about the fatal stabbing of a 23-year-old African American Bowie State University student by a 22-year-old white University of Maryland student in what
My client sat back, her eyes fixed on a corner of the room but her mind fixed on the past as she described walking through a pasture and quietly contemplating how to support her family after her husband’s progressing illness forced him to quit work. “I thought to myself, What would Annie Mauk do?” –