Even though I used to find public speaking a nightmare, I consented to be the senior speaker at my Amherst College commencement. I say “consented” because I’d promised Andy, the friend who nominated me, that I would go ahead if elected, as I was.
That Friday afternoon last month, a Green-Wood Cemetery employee named Katie escorted Laura and me as we toured options for our future remains. We walked from buildings to open areas with ponds and vistas, on to another building, and then to yet
1 Bonnie and I were close my freshman year of college, her senior year at a neighboring women’s college. She came from a traditional military family and had traveled around the world, not just with her family—in fact, mostly on her own. My feelings
Note. I’m re-posting this reminiscence to include some minor revisions. After finishing the transcription of Grandma’s letters to me, I’ve updated the final paragraphs. I’m also adding a correction: Churchill’s funeral took place in 1965, not
Fifty years ago this month, my parents told my brother and me that we were to emigrate to the United States in November. Within weeks, our cat Monty, who had been on this earth two years longer than me, died. He didn’t die in order to become a symbol
Finally a novel has been given mainstream publication that has a principal blind character and is written by a blind author. Edward Hoagland’s In the Country of the Blind appeared late last year, but became available in audio only recently. Because I