Murder and Fire: A Dark Night

My dad walked into the house on the evening of January 10, 1983. The week before, I turned seven years old. I don’t recall what I did on my birthday, only that I had cake and ice cream while watching the Rose Bowl. It was a yearly tradition for me. Dad came through the garage…

Nobody Won. Stop Acting Like We’ve Won.

I have watched, from afar, the outrage over sexual harassment in America. And, par for the course, the real message got lost in the silliness. I have a few things to say and I’ll go back to reading a book about baseball. First of all, the people who are celebrating Roy Moore’s defeat in Alabama…