The Quiet Streets of Morning When I look out the front window of my home in the early morning, the streets are wonderfully quiet. I see paved driveways and closed garage doors. A few birds chirp in the oak trees. It is a beautiful and peaceful sight. Yet, something profound is missing from this picture […]
Author Archives: The50 Store
The Scent of an American Weekend The scent hits you before you even turn the corner. It is a sweet, woody perfume hanging heavy in the late afternoon air. Hickory, maybe oak, mixed with the unmistakable aroma of rendering fat and spices. You hear the screen door slam. You hear the laughter of children running […]
I often find myself standing near the shores of New York Harbor, feeling the cold salt breeze coming off the water. The seagulls cry out overhead, diving toward the green ferries that churn the dark water into white foam. The scent of roasted peanuts from street vendors mixes with the heavy smell of the sea. […]
The Early Days of the Open Road I remember the morning air feeling different when I was a boy. It smelled of morning dew mixed with the faint, sharp scent of gasoline. We lived near Woodward Avenue in Detroit. Back then, getting from one place to another was an event. A grand journey. The automobile […]
A Window Down on the Open Road Sometimes I close my eyes and I can still smell the warm summer air of 1955. The scent of fresh cut grass mixed with the rich aroma of grilled onions and engine oil. The country was waking up and the sun was shining on a new era. Neighborhoods […]
The Quiet Morning Reflections The morning air always carries a special kind of quiet before the rest of the world wakes up. I like to sit out on my front porch with a hot cup of black coffee and watch the sky turn from a deep violet to a soft hopeful pink. I have lived […]
The Call of the Last Frontier I have lived in this great country my entire life. Over the decades, I have been blessed to see the sun rise over the Atlantic and set over the Pacific. I have walked through the golden wheat fields of the Midwest and hiked the ancient, rolling Appalachian trails. There […]
The Horizon That Stretches Forever The morning sun does not just rise here. It spills across the land like a bucket of golden paint, waking up the tallgrass and casting long shadows over the earth. You can see weather coming from fifty miles away. I have spent my entire life standing on this soil, watching […]
The Scent of November Air I remember the exact smell of roasting turkey hitting the cold November air before we even reached the front porch of my childhood home. The wood planks creaked under my boots. Inside, the heat of the oven mixed with loud laughter and the clinking of real silver against china plates. […]
The Dust on Our Boots and the Open Horizon I have spent many a quiet evening sitting on the porch, watching the sun dip below the trees, and thinking about the folks who came before us. We Americans have always been a people looking toward the horizon. There is a restlessness in our bones. We […]










