Posted inTelling Our Stories

Making Rags

In every house I’ve lived in, there is a drawer filled with neatly folded rectangles of soft cloth: torn up sheets and pillowcases, dismembered tee shirts. Often their patterns are familiar. A favorite dress or comfortable shirt has slowly faded with use, until it no longer serves its original purpose…

Posted inTelling Our Stories

Big, Bigger, Best

A group of athletes runs competitively and proudly to a slogan that strikes a familiar chord with me because of my rather “full-ish” figure. You don’t have to be thin to be fit. This group is Team Clydesdale USA, and they gallop to this mantra via a weight class that specifically recognizes big, heavyweight people who race – not fat people (though of course they’re not excluded) – but big.

Posted inTelling Our Stories

smalltown, USA

1951. I was in my fourteenth summer in smalltown, U.S.A. Somewhere in the future an H-Bomb would explode in The Pacific, George Jorgensen would morph to Christine, and Elizabeth would be crowned England’s queen. The wars Korean, Viet Nam, and Desert storm were yet to be fought. The Twin Towers, Mad Cow disease, and the beheading of a man named Berg were as yet unthought. Reagan was still among the living…

Posted inTelling Our Stories

A Black Secret Service Bodyguard’s Take on President Reagan

When I was a youngster, I was taught: “If you’ve nothing nice to say about another, then don’t say anything.”

But over the years I have amended those teachings. Much has written about the late President Reagan, characterizing him as “father figure,” “humble boy from the Midwest,” “conscience of the ordinary citizen,” etc. As a Secret Service Agent (SA) under several presidents, I admit that former President Reagan was hardly my favorite — not even close!