As a Canadian who has only lived in the U.S for the past ten years, I confess it took me a while to get my head around the significance of Memorial Day.
My first Memorial Day story is this: I was walking through a small suburban mall-plaza type area in Anaheim. I turn a corner, and whammo! coming towards me is a platoon of immaculately dressed soldiers. In formation, marching precisely along. Continue reading
When my grandmother died, I was in law school.
And I was busy: My first trial (really an administrative hearing) was scheduled for the following week. I had to make a decision about whether to stay at school and file the necessary court briefs on time — or else go to the funeral and file late. I decided to file late. This was not the ideal way to represent my client. But I had the blessing of my clinic instructor because of the circumstances. And of course I had everyone’s sympathy too. Continue reading
On a night in Corpus Christi, along the old Gulf Coast, I came up from quiet water to see the Nehi moon. It was orange, the color of soda, but instead of effervescence it hinted at airborne filth, a heavenly stain turned loose by an earth so long ignored by the selfsame sky. Rain had forsaken the land. Continue reading