I can still hear the rhythmic echoing thud of a heavy leather ball bouncing on hard maple wood. The floorboards in our neighborhood gymnasium always creaked in the corners. It was a humble place smelling faintly of floor wax, canvas sneakers, and winter sweat. Outside the wind would howl through the bare branches of the […]
I remember the smell of Sunday afternoons in the city when I was a very young boy. The air in our apartment building was always thick with roasting garlic, damp wool coats, and the sound of a dozen overlapping conversations echoing down the narrow hallways. It was the late nineteen forties. We lived with my […]
The Porch and The Promise I remember standing on the creaky wooden porch of my childhood home. It was a late Saturday afternoon in the spring. The dogwoods were just starting to bloom. My older sister was getting married. The entire neighborhood walked over. There were no rented limousines or professional lighting crews. My mother […]
The Rhythm of the American Autumn The air turns crisp. The leaves begin to brown. A familiar rhythm settles over our towns. You can smell woodsmoke in the evening breeze. You can feel a sudden chill that tells you summer has finally closed its doors. It happens every autumn. For as long as I can […]
The Disappearing Quiet I remember a time when the nights were truly silent. You could sit out on a front porch after the supper dishes were washed and hear nothing but the crickets calling to one another in the tall grass. There was a profound stillness in the air that settled deep into your bones […]
The morning light hits the porch differently these days. It is softer. It wraps around the old wooden pillars like a familiar friend stopping by for a quiet visit. I sit here with my black coffee and watch the neighborhood slowly wake up. A young family is moving in next door. They are busy painting […]
The Dawn of American Hospitality I still remember the familiar clinking of heavy ceramic mugs against the smooth Formica countertops at the local diner back in the late nineteen fifties. The morning air always smelled of strong black coffee and sizzling bacon. You would sit at the counter, read the morning paper, and leave a […]
The Quiet Promise of the Past I remember the steady hum of factories that used to echo across the river valley near my childhood home. The factory whistle would blow at five o clock every weekday. You could set your watch by it. Men would pour out of the large iron gates holding their metal […]
The Quiet Corners That Capture Our Spirit I have spent the better part of eight decades walking the streets, driving the country highways, and standing in the quiet shadows of this beautiful nation. I can still close my eyes and smell the sweet, damp earth of the Ohio Valley in the spring. I can still […]
The leaves begin to turn brilliant shades of gold, crimson, and amber. The sweltering heat of summer finally breaks. A familiar crisp bite fills the evening air. Across the country, you can hear a distinct sound echoing through small towns and big cities alike. It is the sharp whistle of a referee. It is the […]