
It’s a jungle out there
It’s not a particularly good picture, but it’ll have to do. That’s our house up at the top, maybe fifty yards or so away from
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It’s not a particularly good picture, but it’ll have to do. That’s our house up at the top, maybe fifty yards or so away from
I don’t know how exactly–or who–told me I had to read Beloved. I do remember having a single copy of three Toni Morrison novels–one of them
Hattie says that just before her mother got married, she’d left the farm to start working in a grocery in Springfield, SD, where some young
Let me tell you a story: Fifteen years ago, I was in line at a grocery store, behind two Hispanic men checking out. The clerk—a
Could be an early 20th century shot from a lot of places on the map. There’s a hill up the street, but the place looks
After just about forty years of teaching students from all over the continent, I came to believe, grudgingly, that no geographic group adored their “homeland”
I didn’t know him–couldn’t have. He was killed four years before I was born. For years I wouldn’t have known his story any more fully
Last night I couldn’t help thinking of an old story told to me long, long ago by an organist–the organist, the very one who’d been asked
Job’s friends had his health in mind, but none of them, nor their arguments, could satisfy the emptiness in his soul. He’d lost everything, his
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