Christmas that particular year occurred during a strange period in our lives. Unlike with my father back when I was a teenager—my father who died of a lingering cancer four years after he separated from my Mother and left us… Read More ›
Memoir
Charley and the Movie Theater Hoods
As a kid, I had a love-hate relationship with the Somerset movie theater: I loved the movies but hated the hoods hanging out there. The old movie theater was located on our side of Somerset and took only twenty minutes… Read More ›
Tuna for Christmas
Suzie couldn’t believe all the plans we had in store for her. She cocked her ears back when we told her everything, but she didn’t move when we reached out to touch her, and she even let Jerry, Allison, and… Read More ›
Old Ironsides, A Poem of the Modern Family
Somehow I knew they were fighting over which one would hold sway – no, not Mother and Daddy, but rather, Mrs. Daniels or Mrs. Gosling, my two third grade teachers. They must have decided, perhaps unconsciously, that I was the… Read More ›
Goner
The small plane was above us, loud and sputtering. We kids, Holly, Charley, Allison and I, heard it immediately upon getting off the school bus. We raced across the highway and ran down our lane to the house. Something was… Read More ›
Holly’s Horse Ginger
The farmer backed the horse out of the trailer. I stood beside Mother and Allison as it loomed larger and larger before us, a big reddish-brown rump of a horse. I wondered what we were going to do with it…. Read More ›
Mean Old Willie
No, I wasn’t the bumbler in the family. Even though Mother said I was – I wasn’t. We all knew, actually, who was the bumbler in our family. On our farm, deep in the heart of the Allegheny Mountains, Daddy… Read More ›
The Box
It’s a rainy day and we are dressing and undressing Barbies in Allison’s room. I am seven or eight and am sitting at the foot of Allison’s bed. Allison is nine or ten and is happy I am with her…. Read More ›
Branded
My brother was mean. If I was willing to play baseball or football, Charley could be a wonderful older brother. The two of us would ride our bikes for miles to other farms in the area for pick-up games, and,… Read More ›
Albert from Hell
Sitting in my old jeep in a brightly paved parking lot outside a boxing gym located in a new, brick-and-glass storefront building – one of many, mostly-empty storefronts – within a large, postage stamp of a shopping center that has… Read More ›
Reflections on a Friend’s Headstone
I saw the picture of M’s headstone posted on Facebook. A friend had been walking around the cemetery, saw her grave, and took the photograph. It was the first time I had seen her headstone in all these years, and… Read More ›
Woodstock and the Wild Bunch
Friday nights are a great time to write as the work-week is over. I like drinking on Friday nights, so do indulge me. Luckily, I turned on the television and bumped into “Woodstock.” I have been enjoying the film immensely… Read More ›
Tootsie Rolls
It is late Sunday night and I am standing in the kitchen with a mouthful of tootsie rolls. I have jammed eight, bite-size tootsie rolls into my mouth and now am having problems breathing. I should have blown my nose first –… Read More ›
The Lobster Lady of the Meyersdale Fair
The Firemen’s Carnival at Colt Park was one of the highlights of growing up in Gettysburg, but, in looking back, nothing compares to my first visit to the Meyersdale Fair in Somerset County. Meyersdale is tucked away in a deep river… Read More ›
I Can’t Sing or Play an Instrument
I can’t sing or play an instrument. In tenth grade the music teacher, Mr. Parcells, kicked me out of chorus and band within a week of each other. I can’t remember why in chorus, but it would be fair to say… Read More ›
Reflections on Palo Verde and Nicaragua
It was one of those old timey airports that you used to see in the Martin and Lewis or Tony Curtis movies, where the stewardesses were all young and busty with tight uniforms and little caps and the idea of… Read More ›
The Road West was Invigorating
The road west was invigorating. I felt like a 21st century Daniel Boone. How nice, for once, to be heading west away from Interstate 95, away from the suffocating traffic and the grinding slowdowns, away from the endless progression of mega-cities, formidable in… Read More ›
jonathan giles 