Category: History
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I Caught The Eye Of The Groom In The Brussels City Hall.
[Only a part of the Grand Place.] Unaware Americans. Yes, that’s who we were when we arrived in Brussels. Yes, that’s how I felt when we arrived here. Mapless. I need to know the urban geography of any place I am in. But, I had no idea about this city. Changing the B&B we left…
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Bruges Makes Me Sad
[Mariam and her husband after dinner at the Market Square.] Occasionally, during your life you arrive at a destination that forces you to hold your breath, for too long, and then exhale with an audible gasp. Your heart can hold off on a beat and then give you an extra pump. And a part of…
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NASA Director Sends Wife To The Moon
[A rare photo of the then Mr. Kramden, with wife, Alice and neighbor, Edward Norton. (ca. late 1950’s). Source: Google search] Washington, D.C. The Chief of NASA, Dr. Ralph Kramden, has big plans to celebrate his wife’s birthday. He intends to send her, literally to the earth’s only satellite, the moon. A short time ago,…
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Joshua Tree Diary: Christmas in the Desert
[Desert view outside Joshua Tree. Photo is mine.] This is where it all began, right? I don’t mean California…I mean the desert. The Nativity story is set in the desert; much like the one I see from my bedroom window. Very much like it, except that desert, with the Star, is half a world away.…
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Fathers and Coffee
One more cup of coffee before I go… –Bob Dylan [My photo] This gray, almost monochromatic morning, I lounged in bed reading yesterday’s New York Times. It’s something we did every weekend for years while we lived in Manhattan. The…
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At The Museum…For Decades
[I loved this Alaskan canoe when you could see the people in it.] The more things change, the more they stay they stay the same… -Anon. I never understood the above quote, except to say that I think it means that history repeats itself. I certainly can get that…considering the Trump Era. You can figure…
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Confessions Of A Gravestone Photographer
[At work in St. Patrick’s Cemetery, Chateaugay, NY] I would strongly object to anyone who would dare call me morbid. It is not morbid, in any sense, to appreciate and love old (and new) cemeteries. It is not morbid to stand over a grave of a total stranger and contemplate his or her life. I…
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The Toboggan
When I enter our garage from the door that faces our house, I don’t often look up. What could be up there that I’m avoiding? Well, there is an old oak bed head-board and foot board that was mine when I grew up at 420 Front Street, Owego, NY. There are stickers of cowboys and…
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A Farewell Letter To Jimmy
Hey, Jimmy…I can’t bring myself to call you James. For most of my life you’ve been Jimmy, so there it is. Mariam and I were in Burlington just this past weekend. As I wandered up and down Church Street I kept wondering where the restaurant was that we met for the first time in over…
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The Night Of The Living AA’s: Report #3
I’m sitting on the sofa in our screened-in porch listening to the rain falling, heavily and with vigor, on our deck, roof and the new leaves of the maples. I want another mug of Dorset tea, but that would mean going into the kitchen one more time. I’m reluctant to do that. There is something…
patrickjegan 