Monthly Archives: August 2015

Housestory

A few months ago the house two doors down caught on fire. The flames spread quickly, and when I heard the gathering of sirens outside my door, I stopped writing and went upstairs to see what was going on. By … Continue reading

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Man with a Gun

The man wore a gun, and really, it was far too early in the morning to deal with something like that. My breakfast coffee shop, 6:45 a.m., and the guy is not a cop. I am waiting to order my … Continue reading

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My Father–Part 2

There are three mysteries surrounding my late father’s life. The first is what he was doing in the United States in 1943. He apparently came to America with a group of French pilots, possibly to translate as they trained at … Continue reading

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My Father–Part I

I was sorting through a sheaf of old papers I found in the back of a desk drawer when an envelope full of old photographs fell to the floor. There were shots of my parents in the South of France … Continue reading

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