When I was a kid, I would sometimes spend the night at the firehouse where my dad worked — station 9, which is up a steep hill from my house.
You may also like
Our seedy past
Here’s some history that I was completely unaware of, and it happened right in my hometown 37 years ago today. The leader of the American Nazi party, George Lincoln Rockwell, has been shot and killed by a sniper [more...]
August 24, 2004
Alone and scared on the exit ramp
Every morning I make that fateful decision – whether or not to take route 101 to work. It’s possibly the most stressful road around, and yet I still take it sometimes to make up lost time in the morning [more...]
March 23, 2009
Take a breath
Yesterday morning, my brother called me. Toward the end of our conversation, he noted that my Dad–who’s had some kind of respiratory virus lately–was not bouncing back like he used to. “Well, he [more...]
August 10, 2004