Jeffrey Spitzer-Resnick — Last March, my wife and I decided to move into our vacation home in Central Wisconsin to stay safe from the pandemic. Our home is located in the Town of Jackson (unknown population as it is unincorporated), 5 miles from Oxford, where about 600 people live, in Adams County, where about 17,000 people reside in a large, sparsely populated area. Our closest … Continue reading Finding Common Ground
Jeffrey Spitzer-Resnick — A few weeks ago I spent the weekend visiting my family in the Detroit area where I grew up. As my parents’ memories fade, it was important for me to see them so I could have a better understanding of how much they can remember, and on a sadder note, what they have more difficulty remembering. In all likelihood, their ability to … Continue reading Preserving Memories
Jeffrey Spitzer-Resnick — There are many things that divide city life and rural life: digital access and politics are often discussed in the media, but access to repair and services in rural America is also vastly different than in our cities. When we need something repaired in the city that we cannot fix ourselves, we either call someone to come to our homes or we … Continue reading Rural Chainsaw Repair
DeWitt Clinton — All of us are hungry as dogs, though it’s not even noon, but our guide in green shoes wants us to stop at this grocery store, pick up some cheeses and breads so we won’t have to waste any time, so we can spend more time at Treblinka where we will wander around thousands of stones, each one a village which was … Continue reading Finding Nebuchadnezzar in Poland
Warren R. Johnson — Though it is not a particularly well-known fact, the “bunker” of the former concentration camp at Dachau was used after World War II as an American stockade. Until 1970, soldiers either awaiting trial or sentenced to less than a year’s confinement were imprisoned there. The “bunker,” a series of cells, is directly behind the former administration building that is now the … Continue reading Picking Up a Prisoner at Dachau
Warren R. Johnson — When our son Michael was very young, he had a very old friend. Everyone called his old friend Baba Levi. Not mister, not sir, but Baba. Baba is Persian for father, or even grandfather. He was so old that he remembered driving trucks from Baghdad to Tehran, before the First World War when trucks on the main roads joining the two … Continue reading Elegant Old Men
Warren R. Johnson — Having lived in Germany for many years, I’ve had the opportunity to get acquainted with hospitals from Landstuhl, the military’s largest hospital outside the United States, to Bad Aibling, where there never was a military hospital, only a civilian one. To outsiders, hospitals are almost always odd places. Patients themselves only get used to them because hospitals run on schedule. In the hospital … Continue reading The Ear is Quicker than the Eye: A Hospital Story
Warren R. Johnson — When you are really fast asleep, you can actually jog in your dreams. If you stumble, you regain your balance in an instant; if you fall, you are back on your feet in a flash. Sometimes, in your dreams, you just run for the joy of running, because in your dreams you can. When you get tired you walk for a … Continue reading Getting Along with MS
DeWitt Clinton — I still live in Shorewood, Wisconsin, not Sherwood, for there’s nothing foresty or Shakespearian about this tiny little add-on to Metro Milwaukee. We’re a bit too far inland to feel the fury of hurricanes, but often in the summer, parts of Wisconsin will feel like a wind tunnel coming out of Tornado Alley of the Midwest. I haven’t yet been sucked up … Continue reading Icarus Redux
Norma Gay Prewett — I had not noticed her the day before, but my husband said he had. A pudgy, blousy blonde, she perched on the cafe stool at the Seahorse, one of the few breakfast spots on the bay side of the narrow spit of sand that forms this fairly quiet Florida beach community. Because I had purposely left my hearing aids out—noisy restaurants … Continue reading The Lady of Pas a Grille
Judy Moore Hug — My mother is in the kitchen. She is trimming the stems off a dozen pink roses, a little past their prime. As she trims each stem, I notice the bruise on her wrist and a cut that’s beginning to heal. Her skin is a spotted beige curtain that moves back and forth as she places each pink rose in the white … Continue reading Ruth is 86
Les Guliasi — Point Isabel is the largest off-leash dog park in the country. The two sections of the 53 acre park are divided by Hoffman channel and connected by a wooden bridge that once served as a train crossing. Located on the eastern shore of the San Francisco Bay, a stone’s throw north of Berkeley, California, the park has sweeping views of the San … Continue reading The Sheriff of the Park
Richard Quinney — I am a witness to the ending of a family farm in Wisconsin. This is the farm that was started in 1868 by my great-grandparents and farmed by the generations that followed. My brother and I inherited the farm and tried to keep its 160 acres as a working farm, even as we moved to other places and pursued other ways of … Continue reading Witnessing the End of a Family Farm: Twenty-Five Ways to Say Goodbye
Jeff Berger — Saphire is my collie. For 33 years I have owned collies. Or to be more precise, collies have owned me. My collies have owned a house with a large backyard, hardwood floors and leather furniture. My collies have owned Subarus with leather seats in which I chauffeur them around. Saphire forces me to walk around the neighborhood at least twice a day. … Continue reading Saphire is Not a Dog
Mark Richardson — I came to baseball, or baseball came to me, as a very young boy. My dad was never much of a baseball fan, at least until he was in his 60s and he discovered the entertainment that was Harry Caray’s broadcasting, but my mom was an avid Chicago Cubs fan all her life. Her grandpa (my Great-grandpa Cashore), her dad (my Grandpa … Continue reading My Mom, Baseball, and Me
DeWitt Clinton — I’m having trouble remembering anything lately. Sure I know I’m here where you are too, wondering about what’s next, but who isn’t? I’ve had a serious memory problem all my life, even though I know I’m still here in this little room in this little house, in this little village, in this little metro area, but that’s not to say I don’t … Continue reading Trouble
Bill Powell — My wife and I recently discussed Pearl Buck’s classic novel The Good Earth and tried to recollect whether, and when, we might have read it as children. We are both “bookish” people and have been so since childhood. We also discussed our early reading habits, subject preferences, and how they have evolved and continue to this day. I mentioned that during one … Continue reading The Summer of Becoming Quasimodo
Charles Cottle — Snow was falling and I was tired. I was returning home to Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin after a day of teaching at the university. It was 5:30 in the afternoon in the middle of winter, so it had already been dark for about an hour. As I pulled into town, I started thinking about food. I was in no mood to start cooking … Continue reading Dining with the Colonel – No. 39
David Gillespie — It was Monday, June 20. This year. Celebrating a milestone wedding anniversary, we were in Rome. This would be a day for touring the Vatican under the care of a local guide. As we walked through the public area of the Papal Apartments on our way to the Sistine Chapel, the guide told us that we were about to go into the … Continue reading Twenty-five Selfies in the Raphael Room
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