“Be cautious especially when you cross Seventh Street,” she said holding my hands while looking directly into my eyes. “Choose a book and come straight home,” she admonished. I didn’t understand Mom’s trepidation at letting me walk the half mile to the Dixon Public Library. I’d done it a million times; this was the first … Continue reading Reagan’s Library
America, 1914, destination Ellis Island. June 29 marked the beginning of my Italian family in the United States; the day Paul Vittori married Nina. Odd to outsiders, our Italian culture is constructed of a peculiar menagerie of food, jokes, and discipline. Experiencing a life-long food romance, Italians know there is nothing quite like waking up … Continue reading American- Italian
“Become one with the sky!” Bruce, the aeronaut, exclaimed as the multi-colored hot air balloon we were attached to vaulted off the ground. The sensation was akin to cresting the top of a Ferris wheel. Not quite the mind-blowing fear, hair flying adrenaline rush I anticipated. I felt embarrassed for Bruce though he held our lives … Continue reading Balloon Ride
Everybody must get stoned ... a most invasive earworm. Bob Dylan’s quirky song Rainy Day Women #12 and 35 topped the 1966 pop charts. I was a toddler. Listening to the raucous circus tune I'm transported to my aunt’s 1966 living room. Harvest gold carpet, a huge console that kept the record player, my teenage … Continue reading Everybody must get stoned …
I'm very excited to announce I was a prize winner for a local writing competition The Phidian Art Club of Dixon, Illinois Literary Competition. A very special friend encouraged me to submit a story - I hesitated but decided to give it a shot. I was very excited and humbled to place in my first … Continue reading A Season of Angels – edited
“Any concerns?” I hear unease in Dr. Marc’s voice. Sitting in Walgreen’s parking lot I stare through the rain-smeared windshield, evening traffic rambles by.
I’m lobbying to protest a Tax Bill proposing public dollars pay for elective abortions.
Imitated each step. Followed every instruction. I struggle to prepare a meal to her perfection. I don’t possess the patience or skill to achieve mom’s cooking precision. She didn’t leave me her magic wand. Mom prepared recipes mostly from recollection. When she tried a new recipe, it was soon transformed and committed to memory. … Continue reading The Magic Wand
Journalism class taught me to hunt for 5 W’s & H. Who. What. When. Where. Why. How. That’s it. Just the FACTS. Professors placed a huge red ‘F’ on an article containing a modicum of my opinion. They did it for the sanctity of Journalism – unbiased reporting to the public of events impacting daily … Continue reading Where have all the Brokaws gone?
The view from where I’m standing would be impressive if I could open my eyes. ‘Why am I here? I must be crazy,’ I argue with myself. I shiver in the slight breeze even though the temperature is in the high 80s. Sound is muffled like I’m under water, but I’m not there yet. … Continue reading The View