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…
Telling Our Stories
Stories from our regular writers.
Posted inTelling Our Stories
On Doilies and Meatgrinders
What I sorted through that day was not just the contents of one woman’s household, but the inventory of a largely by-gone way of life. That estate sale was like a museum exhibit…
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!
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Eye Witness: A Short Tale of the Uninsured
What happens when an uninsured person needs minor medical treatment? If one lacks a “family” physician, what are his or her options? I am not indigent but I don’t have health insurance. Here’s my story.
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Searching for a Stolen Car
The five hulking bags of groceries are in the trunk, and I’ve got twenty minutes before I have to clock in at work. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem, but this day finds me hunkered over the duct-taped steering column fighting with a screwdriver to get my rig fired up. Sure, the keys are in my right pocket next to my wallet, but for the last couple of weeks, this has been the modus operandi for getting the thing started…
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