By Eric Le Roy
Sometimes a death in the family comes like grief poured over your head, a bucketful of black water. You can drown that way. Sometimes it feels like liberation. Often, it’s more of a handshake. That’s how it was with my Dad and me.
Earlier this week, a friend told me that his mother had passed. She was 93. My friend has also been subjected … Read the rest
By Eric Le Roy
First, I support no ideology under this shining sun. You don’t have to be wrong for me to be right, and vice versa. All my life, I have involved myself in civil discourse with all comers. Often it has seemed modestly productive, although rare is the occasion when I’ve noticed any radical shifts of opinion. Most people, including me, walk away with our convictions … Read the rest
Second part. First part is here.
On 28 August, 1963, I came home from somewhere one mid-afternoon. The new school year hadn't started, so the early part of the day remains a blank. Except that I was in Charleston, West Virginia, and we lived in a big ramshackle white house at the end of a dead-end street way up in the hills.
When I walked through the door, our … Read the rest
