New England Stories
My Red Sox hat sits in a position of honor above the microwave in the kitchen. Photos of five generations of my matrilineal line hang in the hallways, photos from New England stretching to the early 1800. An fifty-year-old B&W sketch of the USS Constitution hangs above another sketch done of a drummer boy with Revolutionary War longcoat and knee britches.
I wrote Echoes of a Lincoln Song for my mother. She was putting together a book to celebrate the 250th year of the town’s origins. We fussed and argued, as we did, over each word. An early draft carried a different title and rather different language.
Once, a gent who had a funny accent, funny glasses, and a lot of degrees asked me to name all of the nations of North America. I recognized the trap and said, “How do you want me to name the four?… Read More about “North to France”